I live in the West Village. It's Jane Jacobs territory, still. When she died this spring, the neighborhood felt infinitely diminished by her loss. But her death was also a keen reminder that words can alter the course of history. And alter it she did. She saved my community and many others from ill-conceived renewal efforts by indelicate hands. She opened many eyes to the inherent integrity—the genius loci—of human-scaled row houses and storefront commerce, short blocks and heterogeneous community. She wasn't an architect or an urban planner, but she understood in her boots why design matters, and she taught us how to see without the bias of one ideology or another blinding the view.
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