Transcript

Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75

From This American Life · Episode page · Watch on YouTube

· 59 min · 10,112 words · 122 timestamped sections

This is the full, timestamped transcript of "Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75", an episode of This American Life published February 9, 2026 (59 min, about 10,112 words). It mentions 51 people, works and ideas, including New York City, New York, Ira Glass, This American Life, Canada Lee, Jack Guyger.

What this episode is about

The main topic centers on the concept of kindness displayed by strangers in everyday situations, highlighting a particular instance at a subway platform where a man arbitrarily determines who can "stay" or "go" among commuters. This exploration delves into the judgments we encounter from strangers and the impact of their perceptions on our self-worth and social interactions.

Key takeaways

  • In a crowded subway, a stranger's judgment felt strangely like a litmus test for our social worth.
  • Kindness is paradoxical; a casual approval from a stranger can elevate or devastate, revealing our hidden insecurities.
  • The 'can I stay?' moment reminds us of our desperate craving for acceptance—even when it’s utterly unimportant.
  • New Yorkers may be deemed unkind, yet often, it's in the city’s chaos where unexpected kindness flourishes.
  • Ultimately, life isn’t fair—yet acts of kindness, no matter how trivial, can spark unexpected joy in others.

Who speaks in this episode?

What is discussed, and when

  1. – 5:00: Ira Glass, Brett News, New York City, New York, This American Life
  2. – 10:00: New York City, New York, This American Life, Joel Kosman, Joel Kman
  3. – 20:00: Curtis Wayne Wright, New York City, New York, Canada Lee, Jack Guyger
  4. – 25:00: Harlem, Canada Lee, Langston Hughes, New York City, New York
  5. – 30:00: Canada Lee, Jack Guyger, Harlem, Physicians for Human Rights
  6. – 35:00: New York City, New York, Ira Glass, Canada Lee, Jack Guyger
  7. – 45:00: Mystery Show, The Inequality Machine
  8. – 50:00: Fourth Street, Lorraine Goodman, Nick Traitus, Blake Eskin
  9. – 55:00: New York City, New York, Nick Traitus, Lorraine Goodman, 124 East 4th Street
  10. – 58:42: New York City, New York, This American Life, Ira Glass, Nick Traitus

Notable quotes from "Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75"

  • Show, stories of the kindness of strangers and what it leads to. And for the best perspective on the subject, all of our stories today take place in the city that has the…
    about New York City, New York · at
  • This true story of a good deed that somebody tries to do for a stranger comes from Joel Kman, a locksmith in New York. It's a little past midnight and I've just returned home from dropping my girlfriend Deborah off at the airport.
    about Joel Kosman · at
  • Act two, run away. When you commit an act of kindness for a stranger, where can it lead? In 1940, Jack Guyger was 14 years old, not getting along with his parents. Because of…
    about Jack Guyger · at
  • Through that apartment over that year that I remember came the kind of the cream of the Harlem theatrical, sporting, civil rights, political and intellectual world. And I had.
    about Harlem · at
  • It turned out, although I didn't know it at the time, that Canada Lee himself had grown up in a pretty strict middle-class West Indian family.
    about Canada Lee · at
  • Small act of kindness leading somewhere completely unexpected. A resident of the neighborhood, Blake Eskin, tells the story. About a month ago, I went out one Friday evening…
    about Blake Eskin · at
  • Fate, the show outside 124 East 4th Street has happened five Fridays in a row. The singer Nick Traitus lives on the first floor of the building and the tap dancer Lorraine…
    about Nick Traitus · at
  • So much better with her reporting and her thoughts. We will miss her and her many skills. This American life is delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio…
    about This American Life · at

Who and what is mentioned in this episode?

People

  • Ira Glass — Person · Host · 4 mentions · first at
    Introduces the rerun episode, frames the theme (kindness of strangers), and narrates transitions between acts.
    Which brings us to today's radio program. From WBZ Chicago, it is This American Life, Ira Glass. Today on our show, stories of the kindness of strangers and what it leads to. And for the best perspective on the subject, all.
  • Canada Lee — Person · Referenced central figure (Act two benefactor) · 7 mentions · first at
    Broadway actor who befriends and houses Jack Guyger; portrayed as an exemplar of kindness that changes a life trajectory.
  • Jack Guyger — Person · Main subject (Act two interviewee) · 3 mentions · first at
    Tells the central Act Two story about being taken in by Canada Lee as a teenager and how that shaped his later civil/human-rights career.
  • Nick Traitus — Person · Main subject (Act four performer) · 3 mentions · first at
    Neighbor who turns a small act of kindness into a recurring block performance, singing Sinatra with a PA and backing tracks.
  • Lorraine Goodman — Person · Main subject (Act four co-performer) · 4 mentions · first at
    Tap-dancing neighbor whose request for music catalyzes Nick Tritus' stoop show; described as the 'brains' behind the event.
    Row. The singer Nick Traitus lives on the first floor of the building and the tap dancer Lorraine Goodman lives on four. Gary and Wanda who run the garden level thrift shop put…
  • Paul Tu — Person · Reporter (Act three) · 2 mentions · first at
    Reports and narrates the Helga–Starly neighbor conflict story; also credited as senior editor for the episode.
    Produced by Nancy Updike and myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's…
  • Blake Eskin — Person · Main speaker (Act four narrator) · 2 mentions · first at
    Narrates and contextualizes the 'chairman of the block' story, describing the neighborhood performance phenomenon.
  • Joel Kosman — Person · Referenced storyteller (Act one author/narrator) · 2 mentions · first at
    Credited as the source of Act One story about helping a stranded woman and the Tarzan-caller; later identified as author of a locksmith memoir.
  • Curtis Wayne Wright — Person · Referenced author (Act two source material) · 3 mentions · first at
    Author of the novel Native Son, which Jack Guyger sees adapted on stage; also named among visitors in Canada Lee's circle.
    He went to see a play, Native Son, Orson Wells's Mercury Theater production of the Richard Wright novel, which starred a black actor named Canada Lee. And I was very moved by that. And with the.
  • Langston Hughes — Person · Referenced notable figure (Act two visitor) · 2 mentions · first at
    Named as part of the Harlem intellectual circle Jack encountered through Canada Lee; also appears in an anecdote with Jack's mother.
    The chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger…
  • Rudolph Giuliani — Person · Referenced person · 3 mentions
    Mayor of New York City mentioned in the context of quality of life rules.
  • Joel Kman — Person · Referenced storyteller (duplicate/variant of Joel Kosman) · 1 mention · first at
    Appears to be a misspelling/shortened extraction of 'Joel Kosman' from Act One; same locksmith narrator.
    This American Life Today's Show is a rerun. Act one, Tarzan finds a mate. So, this true story of a good deed that somebody tries to do for a stranger comes from Joel Kman, a…
  • Orson Wells — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    Director of the Mercury Theater production of Native Son.
    Fought with them all the time, and then he went to see a play, Native Son, Orson Wells's Mercury Theater production of the Richard Wright novel, which starred a black actor named Canada Lee. And I.
  • William Syan — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    One of the intellectuals Jack Guyger met at Canada Lee's apartment.
    The chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger…
  • Adam Clayton Powell — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    One of the intellectuals Jack Guyger met at Canada Lee's apartment.
    The chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger…
  • Billy Strayhorn — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    One of the intellectuals Jack Guyger met at Canada Lee's apartment.
    The chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger…
  • Duke Ellington — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    One of the intellectuals Jack Guyger met at Canada Lee's apartment.
    The chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger…
  • Cindy Adams — Person · Referenced person · 1 mention · first at
    Gossip columnist mentioned in the context of the Nick and Lorraine show.
    There's a gossip columnist in the New York Post named Cindy Adams and it is tempting to resort to her mantra only in New York folks only in New York to explain this phenomenon.
  • Nancy Updike — Person · Producer · 1 mention · first at
    Producer of the episode.
    Go looking for it, but the duo does occasionally perform reunion shows around the city. This episode was produced by Nancy Updike and myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie…
  • Elise Spiegel — Person · Producer · 1 mention · first at
    Producer of the episode.
    Go looking for it, but the duo does occasionally perform reunion shows around the city. This episode was produced by Nancy Updike and myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie…
  • Julie Snider — Person · Producer · 1 mention · first at
    Producer of the episode.
    Go looking for it, but the duo does occasionally perform reunion shows around the city. This episode was produced by Nancy Updike and myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie…
  • Jerry Row — Person · Contributor · 1 mention · first at
    Person who helped with the rerun of the episode.
    Myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate…
  • Kimberly Kate — Person · Contributor · 1 mention · first at
    Person who helped with the rerun of the episode.
    Myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate…
  • Suzanne Gabber — Person · Production staff (fellow; credited) · 1 mention · first at
    Credited in the episode outro as a fellow whose work improved stories; noted as finishing a six-month fellowship.
    Episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate, Suzanne Gabber, Molly Marcelo, Katherine Ray Mondo, and Stone Nelson. This…
  • Katherine Ray Mondo — Person · Contributor · 1 mention · first at
    Person who helped with the rerun of the episode.
    Myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate…
  • Molly Marcelo — Person · Contributor · 1 mention · first at
    Person who helped with the rerun of the episode.
    Myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate…
  • Laura Anne Nelson — Person · Contributor · 1 mention · first at
    Person who helped with the rerun of the episode.
    Myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate…
  • Tory Melatio — Person · Program Co-founder · 1 mention · first at
    Co-founder of This American Life.
    Many skills. This American life is delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio exchange. That is always to program co-founder, Mr. Tory Melatio, who says, No, no, no, no, no.
  • Brett News — Person · Ambiguous mention (likely a website name mis-extracted as person) · 2 mentions · first at
    In the transcript, 'Brett News' is explicitly described as Brett's personal website; the entity appears to be a site title rather than a person.
    No one argued with him. Brett wrote about the incident on his personal website, Brett News. Let me ask you to read a little bit of your account of this from your website. you write about the who he decided to keep and.

Books & papers

  • Native Son — Book · Referenced work · 2 mentions · first at
    Play that Jack Guyger saw, leading to his friendship with Canada Lee.
    Fought with them all the time, and then he went to see a play, Native Son, Orson Wells's Mercury Theater production of the Richard Wright novel, which starred a black actor named Canada Lee. And I.
  • Keys to the City — Book · Referenced work · 1 mention · first at
    Book by Joel Kosman about his life as a locksmith.
    Joel Kosman's stories of his life as a locksmith are in his book Keys to the City. Well, she talks like a bullet and she looks like a goddess. Says she's a.
  • The Inequality Machine — Book · Referenced work · 1 mention · first at
    Book by Paul Tough, who reported part of the episode.
    Paul tough with Starly K. Paul's latest book is called The Inequality Machine. Years after we first broadcast this story, Starly went on to make a legendary and wonderful podcast.

Companies & orgs

  • This American Life — Company · Host · 4 mentions · first at
    The podcast/show where the stories are being broadcasted.
  • 9th Precinct — Company · Referenced organization · 3 mentions · first at
    Local police precinct mentioned in the context of the Nick and Lorraine show.
    The ninth precinct is a block away, and New Yorkers are quick to complain about noise. And Mayor Rudolph Giuliani has made it a priority for the police to crack down on what he calls.
  • Physicians for Social Responsibility — Company · Affiliation · 3 mentions
    Organization founded by Jack Guyger.
  • Starlight Orchestra — Company · Affiliation · 2 mentions · first at
    Orchestra that Nick Tritus performs with.
    Orchestra, a 16piece band that performs at high society weddings and corporate events. The Starlight Orchestra has five vocalists, and Nick is their Sinatra specialist.
  • SS Booker T. Washington — Company · Affiliation · 1 mention · first at
    Ship where Jack Guyger served during World War II.
    There, too. Jack went to college, enlisted in the merchant marines during World War II, serving on the only ship with a black captain and integrated crew of officers, the SS…
  • Physicians for Human Rights — Company · Affiliation · 1 mention · first at
    Organization founded by Jack Guyger.
    Workers in the early 60s, was a founder of Physicians for Social Responsibility and later Physicians for Human Rights, started community health centers in Mississippi and in…
  • New York Post — Company · Referenced organization · 3 mentions
    Newspaper where Cindy Adams works.
    There's a gossip columnist in the New York Post named Cindy Adams and it is tempting to resort to her mantra only in New York folks only in New York to explain this phenomenon.
  • PRX — Company · Affiliation · 3 mentions
    Organization that delivers This American Life to public radio stations.
    So much better with her reporting and her thoughts. We will miss her and her many skills. This American life is delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio…

Products & tech

  • Pocket Songs — Product · Performance aid (backing-track media used in Act four) · 1 mention · first at
    Named as the series of discs providing Sinatra arrangements without vocals that Nick uses to perform on the stoop.
    Watching Lorraine tap dance when Nick went outside with his instant Sinatra kit, which includes a few CDs from a series called Pocket Songs. The discs have the full Sinatra…

Places & events

  • New York City, New York — Place · Setting · 9 mentions · first at
    Primary location where all the stories in the episode take place.
  • Harlem — Place · Setting · 5 mentions · first at
    Location where Jack Guyger lived with Canada Lee.
  • Fourth Street — Place · Setting · 5 mentions · first at
    Location where the Nick and Lorraine show took place.
    As we reached Fourth Street, I saw 100 people huddled around the stoop of a sixth floor tenement. Most of them were postcol pre-childbearing types. Plus, there were some older people who.
  • 124 East 4th Street — Place · Setting · 3 mentions · first at
    Specific address where the Nick and Lorraine show took place.
    Street, everything was copathetic, and it still is. Somehow, by some quirk of fate, the show outside 124 East 4th Street has happened five Fridays in a row. The singer Nick…
  • East Village — Place · Setting · 1 mention · first at
    Neighborhood where the Nick and Lorraine show took place.
    Somewhere completely unexpected. A resident of the neighborhood, Blake Eskin, tells the story. About a month ago, I went out one Friday evening with a friend in the East…
  • Sugar Hill — Place · Setting · 1 mention · first at
    Area in Harlem where Canada Lee lived.
    Till a Sunday when I knew there was no performance of Native Sun and my folks were out and I packed a bag and I took a subway up to the top of Sugar Hill and Harlem 555 Edgecom…
  • 555 Edgecombe Avenue — Place · Setting · 1 mention · first at
    Address where Canada Lee lived.
    Till a Sunday when I knew there was no performance of Native Sun and my folks were out and I packed a bag and I took a subway up to the top of Sugar Hill and Harlem 555 Edgecom…

Media & podcasts

  • Lost Boundaries — Media · Referenced work · 1 mention · first at
    Movie where Canada Lee played a role similar to his real-life friendship with Jack Guyger.
    In 1949, just a few years after he befriended Jack Guyger, Canada Lee was in a movie where he did more or less the same thing. The film was Lost Boundaries. He played an.
  • Mystery Show — Media · Affiliation · 1 mention · first at
    Podcast made by Starly after the events in the episode.
    This story, Starly went on to make a legendary and wonderful podcast called Mystery Show. If you have never heard the show, seriously check it out.
  • Metropolitan Faces — Media · Affiliation · 1 mention · first at
    Podcast made by Blake Eskin about subway photography.
    Blake Eskin in New York. Well, this episode of our show was first broadcast years ago. As I've said these days, Blake makes a podcast about subway photography called Metropolitan Faces.

Full transcript with timestamps

Hey everybody, it's Ira Glass. Um, today's show is a rerun from the early years of our program. This is from back in the 1990s. Uh, it's on a subject that just felt like it might feel good to talk about today, which is kindness, specifically the kindness of strangers. Brett was standing at a subway platform, afternoon rush hour. It was crowded. and he noticed this guy. Didn't seem homeless, decent clothes, stopping in front of each person, looking into his or her eyes, saying something and moving on to the next person. Turns out the guy was telling people

they could stay or or they had to go or they were in or they were out. Well, literally, what would he say?

Well, literally it would be it would be um you you're out, you're gone, you're gone, you're okay, you can stay.

And then do people leave? No, not at all. by me and and no one argued with him.

Brett wrote about the incident on his personal website, Brett News. Let me ask you to read a little bit of of your account of this from your website. Uh you you write about uh the who he decided to keep and who he decided to to go.

Right. These are the last few people before he reaches me. Uh the 50-ish woman in the business suit and thick glasses is sumearily dismissed. The homie in the baggy shorts in Chicago Bulls jersey makes the cut. The young immigrant mother who seems not to grasp the import of this moment is given the okay.

Oh, versus you who's grasping just how important this, right? The bookish man in the maroon cardigan sweater with balding head and red face is cut loose with particular relish.

There is something about the judgment of strangers. When the clerk in the record store seems unimpressed by your choice of CDs. When the one cute person on the bus gives you a look like, "Out of my way." It's as if by their status as strangers. They have some special instantaneous insight into who we are. Their vision isn't clouded by our feeble attempts to charm our friends and uh the people we work with. The guy got closer to Brett

and I'm starting to feel a little nervous and and aware of the fact aware of the fact

will I make the cut? You can't. It's it sounds so silly. I mean, we all like to think that we're evolved enough or mature enough. Uh but when push comes to shove and a guy guy's going down the line waiting, uh I found that you can't help but kind of hope that he he gives you the thumbs up when your turn comes.

But Brett, he's not choosing you for anything. No, he's not. And he didn't even look like anyone I particularly wanted to uh to hang with, you know. Uh I mean, as much as one can tell can tell from someone's appearance,

you didn't really feel any need to impress this guy. No. No. I mean, to me, it's like I think you're right because this is the purest case I've ever heard of. Literally, he's picking you for nothing.

Right. And yet, you want to be chosen. Exactly. So the guy walks up to Brett, stands actually a little too close to him, looks in his eyes, and says, "You can stay." And Brett felt euphoria. A small euphoria, sure, in his mind, he knew there's no reason to feel so good about this, but in his heart, it made him feel really, really happy. It was like, "All right."

You wrote in your account of this, "I find myself against my own better judgment, now looking with some disdain and perhaps a tinge of pity upon those who didn't make the cut."

Sure. I mean, if you can't if you can't make this guy's cut, come on. How terrible, you write, to be excluded, to be found unworthy.

But no one has ever claimed life to be fair. No, they haven't. In a sense, this guy on the subway was committing a perfect act of kindness. The people who he gave the thumbs up to felt good. The people who he told to get lost simply ignored him. No one was hurt. It was a simple act of kindness from a stranger. Which brings us to today's radio program. From WBZ Chicago, it is This American Life, Ira Glass. Today on our show, stories of the kindness of strangers and what it leads to. And for the best perspective on the subject, all of our stories today take place in the city that has the reputation for being the unkindest city in America, New York City. Act one of our show, Tarzan finds a mate, in which a good deed is done with the hope of a small reward.

Act two, Runaway, in which a small good deed leads to much bigger things. Act three, the unkindness of strangers. A story about a neighbor who tries to make life hell for the person next door. Act four, chairman in the block. A story of 150 people who don't know each other. A tap dancer, New York cops, and Frank Sinatra. Stay with us.

This American Life Today's Show is a rerun. Act one, Tarzan finds a mate. So, this true story of a good deed that somebody tries to do for a stranger comes from Joel Kman, a locksmith in New York. It's a little past midnight and I've just returned home from dropping my girlfriend Deborah off at the airport. Late at night is the only time of day I like the way my block looks. There are no pan handlers. The parking lots are all empty. And the constant noise you hear in the daytime from the exiting Lincoln Tunnel traffic is minimized.

It almost looks like a real street, a place where people live. Remarkably, I find a parking space right in front of my building. I sit in the car with the motor running, listening to the radio, and thinking about Deborah. We live together. This morning, I thought we were in love. Tonight, I'm not sure if I'm ever going to see her again. The DJ plays a Freddy and the Dreamers tune. I'm telling you now. Suddenly, I hear someone across the street yell something. I look up and a young woman is standing next to a red sports car, her head resting on the roof. Damn, damn. Damn, she moans, pounding an alternate fist down with each word. She steps back, her hands on her hips, and looks around as if we're a lost child.

She has straight blonde hair which hangs down to her shoulders. She's wearing tight blue jeans, a yellow shirt unbuttoned down to her cleavage, and black spike heels. She's got on bright red lipstick and gold interlocking circles for earrings. They jangle when she turns her head. "Oh, damn," she says again and throws her bag at the car. It's a Porsche. I shut off my engine and get out. I don't want to scare her, so I call from across the street. Excuse me. You need some help? She's bending down on the sidewalk, picking up some things that fell out of her bag. She looks up and for a second, I think she's going to scream.

Then she smiles. "I lock my keys in the car," she says as she stands up. "I can't believe I did this." Her hands do a kind of Betty boop thing. I decide that she's Jersey here for a concert at the garden. She just has that Jersey feel. You're in luck, I say, still from across the street. She purses her lips and nods. Why? You going to take me out for a drink till the tow truck gets here? She laughs, but starts coughing in the middle. I go to my trunk and remove my car lockout stuff. a pretty stranded Jersey girl with a sense of humor, no less, I say to myself.

There's something in her face that reminds me of a young Jessica Lang. I cross the street with my slim gym in one hand. It's a thin silvery piece of metal about 2 feet long with some notches cut out at the bottom used to open car doors. I carry it at my side like a sword, like a knight would. In my other hand, I grasp my toolkit. In my shirt pocket is the little leather case that contains my picks, which I bring just in case I run into any trouble. I step up on the sidewalk next to her. I'm a locksmith, I announce.

I love these moments when I get to play the hero. She has a loopy smile on her face which stays there even as her expression slowly changes. I can smell the alcohol in her breath. She looks at the slim gym and then back at my face. No, she says. Well, I guess it's my lucky day. She lays a hand on my shoulder like we're old pals. She squeezes and then leans on me a little. Her head floats around in front of my face. "You open it up and the drinks are on me," she says in a kind of half growl. I peer into the car window and see the keys dangling from the ignition. There are a couple of empty beer bottles on the floor on the passenger side. I look back at the woman. She's got a cigarette going now.

At that moment, from behind us, we hear a long, clear Tarzan call. It's a perfect imitation lasting about 10 seconds, complete with the jungle yodals in the middle. What the hell was that? The woman asks. She steps out toward the street and leans her head way back. She looks up at the parking structure that's a block north on 31st Street. I get a real good look at her then. That's Tarzan, I say. She tilts her head to the side, half closes her right eye, and raises her left eyebrow. Friend of yours? She asks. I think he works in the parking structure, I say. Oh, she says with a look on her face that says that explains everything.

She puts her hands behind her and leans back. I momentarily think about Deborah. The woman in front of me couldn't be more different in appearance. She's as tall as I am with an accent out of a Stallone movie. She looks like a wild, fun-loving gal. Good workingclass stock. I wonder what she's like when she's sober. So, you going to do your thing or what? The woman asks. I hold up my slim gym. Action? She says. I dip my slim gym into the car door, feeling around. I try different angles, different depths. Nothing happens. She hops off the hood of the car and stands next to me. "No luck," she asks. "Not yet.

It's a hot night." She takes a tissue from her bag and says, "Here, you're sweating buckets." I wipe my forehead. The tissue smells like perfume. She removes another one and dabs at her neck and chest. She flaps her hand in front of her face like a fan. I've got air conditioning in there once you get it open, she says. "I'll have it open in a minute," I say. I start thinking about her behind the wheel of the car and where we'll go. She rummages around in the bag again and produces a pack of cigarettes. She lights one up, takes a drag, and blows the smoke up toward the sky. I haven't smoked in 10 years, but it still resonates for me. How it feels, how sexy it looks, which is why I think people do it. She offers me one. No thanks, I say.

Sorry I don't have anything stronger. She smiles. I smile back. She strikes a pose that smokers do. Right arm bent at the elbow, forearm across the body. The left elbow rests on the right wrist and the forearm goes straight up, the fingers at the lips. I pull the slim gym out. Harder than you thought, huh? She says. Some foreign cars are tough. I say. Can I try? You want to try? Yeah, who knows? Maybe it'll be like beginner's luck. It looks like fun. I don't know why, but I say, "Sure." I slide the slim gym through the space between the window and the rubber stripping. She takes the end of it.

"Like this?" she asks, moving it back and forth like a slot machine handle. "No," I say. "Actually, you kind of go like this." I take her hand, move it up and down slowly, bobbing the end of the tool slightly from side to side. We're doing a kind of slim gym tango, dipping in and out and up and down. The car door won't open, but she doesn't even seem perturbed. It's like we're playing a game. I'm going to try to pick it, I say. Can I still do this? She asks. Sure, I'll work on the other door. As I step away, we suddenly hear Tarzan again. It's louder this time. He must be on a lower floor. It's a particularly beautiful call, and he really trails out the last note.

The woman bends over double and slaps her thighs in rapid fashion. I love that, she cries. That is just fabulous. Local color, I say. I take my can of WD40 and lubricate the cylinder. That guy should be on TV or something. I squat by the other side of the car. I insert the tension bar in the cylinder and hold it down with my thumb. Then I work the rake through several times. After a couple of minutes, I'm starting to get frustrated. I say, "I'll be right back. I'm going to get something else." I run to my car and remove the metal dowling I bought on Canal Street for this very situation. It's long and sturdy, but pliable. I bring it back across the street. Here, I say, "You hold this." She lays the slim gym down on the sidewalk. I insert a large screwdriver between the door and the body of the car. Just put a little pressure on it like this, I say as I push back. That'll give me room to maneuver.

She stands behind me and pushes back on the screwdriver. I bend the end of the dowel into an L and slide it in. I push it toward the button, which is in an impossible spot on the door panel just behind the handle. I'm thinking, "This car really is a pain in the ass." I wiggle my end of the dowel and poke at the area of the button, but I keep missing. "How does that button work?" I ask. "Do you push it forward or in or what?" "Geez," she says. "I don't know. Let me think." She bobs her head slowly side to side, and finally says, "In, I think." I think. I keep poking at the button. Once I hit it square on and let out a whoop, but when I try the door, it doesn't open. "Damn," I yell and slam my fist down on top of the Porsche. "Hey," she says. "Come on, we'll get it." She puts her hand on my arm. "You know, you're really a sweet guy for helping me out.

She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek." When Deborah said goodbye to me at the airport, she said, "Maybe you and I should take the next few days to re-evaluate." Then she put her hand on my upper arm and kissed me on the cheek. "Let's try it again," the woman says. "Listen," I say. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated. I usually don't have this much trouble." "It's okay," she says. "I know we're going to get it this time." She punches the air like a cheerleader. We try again. I twist the dowel around to get it in just the right position and then push it forward with my hand so it will come smashing into the button. The door doesn't open. I do it again and again. As my body bumps into the woman's and rubs up against her, I get more and more crazy. I can feel my hero status evaporating. Finally, after about 15 minutes, she says, "You know, I think if I push this way with the screwdriver,

it'll make more room. I think it'll be a lot easier for you." Before I can stop her, she leans against the car and pushes. There's a loud crack. The window shatters into pieces, which fall on the sidewalk at our feet. I look at her face. Her mouth is wide open, her shoulders raised in embarrassment. Then suddenly she opens the door, brushes the glass off the seat with her bag, and gets in. "Well, I got to go," she says. She starts the car. "I don't know how to thank you," she speeds off toward 8th Avenue. "Goodbye," she calls out.

I am stunned by the swiftness of her departure as I watch her drive off, her hand waving out the window. Tarzhan gives his grand finale. His voice is so strong that it sounds like he's right behind me. His call begins with one beautiful long sustained note. He holds it longer than I have ever heard before. Then he leaps into a spectacular trill which ends with another gorgeous full note and follows this with the second trill which trails off into a final eerie haunting tone. I turn to face the parking structure. I'm standing in the middle of a pile of my discarded tools and broken glass. I lean my head way back, looking up at the sky. I cup my hands around my mouth, take the deepest possible breath, and yell at the top of my lungs, "Shut the hell up."

Joel Kosman's stories of his life as a locksmith are in his book Keys to the City.

Well, she talks like a bullet and she looks like a goddess. Says she's a traveler. [singing] She knows where she's going. Dresses like a model. Talks like a liar. She sounds like a bimbo, but she thinks like a scholar. She's got me. She's lost. She's got me on my knees and all she took me. She me and now I want her. Although I'm straight to her and I know she's not listening.

Act two, run away. When you commit an act of kindness for a stranger, where can it lead? In 1940, Jack Guyger was 14 years old, not getting along with his parents. Because of the odd rules of the New York City schools at that time, he had actually finished high school, but no college will gun him in so young. He wasn't getting along with his parents, fought with them all the time, and then he went to see a play,

Native Son, Orson Wells's Mercury Theater production of the Richard Wright novel,

uh, which starred a black actor named Canada Lee. And I was very moved by that. And with the brashness of a 14-year-old, I went backstage afterwards and found Canada Lee and hung around and talked with him a while. And I like that so much that I did that three or four more times.

Do do you recall what it is that that you were talking to him about? What you wanted to talk to him about?

Well, we started out talking about the play and Richard Wright and the main character Bigger Thomas and race relations in the United States. And pretty soon we got around to by the second or third conversation at least u what was going on in my life and what I wanted to do and my conflicts and so on. And he learned a lot more about me than I did about him, I think, at that point in those conversations.

And then one day when the conflict at home just got a lot tougher, I waited till a Sunday when I knew there was no performance of Native Sun and my folks were out and I packed a bag and I took a subway up to the top of Sugar Hill and Harlem uh 555 Edgecom Avenue where I knew that Canada had a penthouse and I went up and rang the doorbell and he was home and opened the door and I said "Lee the stuff at home is just getting too much. And I thought maybe I could stay here for a while. Cold just like that. And he kind of looked around and uh pointed to a couch in the living room and said, "Well, I guess you could sleep over there."

After I had gone to sleep that evening, I later learned he called my folks and said, "Look, I'll send him back in the morning, but why don't you let him stay here because I'm not sure where he's going to land the next time." And my parents must have been so exhausted by all of this that uh they agreed at least tentatively. And that was the beginning of a whole year that I really lived there and had one of the great educational experiences of my life. through that apartment over that year that I remember came the kind of the cream of the Harlem theatrical, sporting, civil rights, political and intellectual world. And I had the chance to sit around evening after evening, many weekends listening to Langston Hughes, William Syan, Adam Clayton Powell, Billy Strayhorn, Duke Ellington's arranger, Richard Wright who came back once from exile and stopped in. And what I remember most is listening to

people, listening to the conversations about World War II and race and democracy, segregation in the armed forces, what was happening in the South, what was happening in New York City.

Let me ask you to assess what what do you think your parents reaction was when they got this first call from Canada Lee uh to have to have their white Jewish middle-ass son suddenly up living with a black man in Harlem in the early 40s. Well, I think they were exhausted. We had had so much struggle. A little later, I remember further on when we were talking to each other again, uh Lee was giving a party and invited my parents who with great trepidation uh came up to Harlem at night. I don't think they had ever done that before.

Mhm. And came to this party and Canada, I remember, turned to my mother and said, "Hey, uh I'm a bachelor. do you think you could help us out in the kitchen? It was a big party. And my mother said, "Sure." Next day, I talked to my mother on the phone. And she said, "She had had the most wonderful time. Had spent a couple of hours in the kitchen with this wonderful man and they'd had all this conversation." I said, "Who was it?" She said, "Well," she didn't know. She'd never gotten the name. And I said, "Well, describe him." and she discovered that she had spent two hours chatting with Langston Hughes and was mortified that she had never realized it.

What did they talk about? Um, you had to have met Langston Hughes to know he was as comfortable as an old shoe.

And I'm sure they talked about cooking and I'm sure they talked about whatever else my mother wanted to talk about. Uh, and she never quite got over it. Still recalled it. During that year, he was kind of an informal surrogate father. And I was in that stage where I wasn't going to take anything from the parents I was fighting with. So he staked me to a good bit of my first year at college when I found a place that would finally let me in. And uh

So he paid for your school. Well, he loaned me the money instead of your parents.

Yeah. It wasn't until a little later that I figured out uh why unconsciously maybe I had made the choice that I did. It turned out, although I didn't know it at the time, that Canada Lee himself had grown up in a pretty strict middle-class West Indian family. And he had he told me the same kind of dissatisfactions and mixed up feelings that I'd had about uh his relationship with his family and what he wanted to do. And he ran away. And uh I think that experience may have had something to do with his kindness in in taking this strange kid in and making a sort of second home for him.

The thing I've thought about is a lot without ever really finding an answer is what kind of clues did I have that said, hey, this is a guy that I can approach in this way, a scrawny kid with a suitcase on a Sunday night and have some kind of shot at getting taken in. I was either very insightful or very lucky. And I think it was mostly luck.

Uh, do you think there were uh clues that you were given though? I think there must have been clues just in the fact that here was a Broadway star who was hanging around backstage talking with a kid uh about life and about his troubles. That's a signal that I don't think anybody could have missed.

Jack lived with Canada Lee for a year. Sometimes Lee's teenage son would be there, too. Jack went to college, enlisted in the merchant marines during World War II, serving on the only ship with a black captain and integrated crew of officers, the SS Booker T. Washington. When Jack would come home to New York on school break or from the Merchant Marines, he would stay with Canada Lee. Then on one of Jack's trips home, Kennedy told Jack that he was pressed for cash, asked if he could borrow $1,000.

And I said, "Sure." And uh I loaned it to him, and I came back for the next trip, and he paid me back. And it took me a while in retrospect to figure out that he didn't need the $1,000. He was just changing the nature of the relationship between us and saying, "Hey, now you're grown up. Uh, and now you're an adult and I'm not your dad anymore. We're partners. I can borrow money from you just the way you borrowed money from me.

There's a way of evening the scales. Yeah. As he got older, Jack became a journalist, then a doctor, active in the civil rights movement. went to Mississippi with the civil rights workers in the early 60s, was a founder of Physicians for Social Responsibility and later Physicians for Human Rights, started community health centers in Mississippi and in South Africa. In this country, that eventually led to more than 12,200 community health centers. They now provide primary care for more than 22 million low-income people across the country. Czech Ger says he'd never have moved so deeply into these worlds so quickly if not for his experience with Canada Lee. It's a relationship very obviously that has stayed with me ever since. Most of my life and work has one way or another involved civil rights and human rights. Must be one of the reasons why I became a physician of wanting to look out for people who were in trouble.

Was it your impression that other people had extended this kind of act of kindness to him that he then extended to you or that he had yearned for for some that someone would have taken him in the way that he took you in? I you know what what occurs to me now is that something I learned in the Harlem community and in a lot of other work there was a lot more experience in uh the black community of extended families

and I don't think um in that context from that side of the divide it felt like such a big deal. Well, you're saying in a way that that that black culture at that time uh was more uh conducive to extending kindness to strangers than white culture. I think so. And maybe still

Dr. Jack Guyer in New York. He died in 2020 at the age of 95. An interesting footnote to this story. In 1949, just a few years after he befriended Jack Guyger, Canada Lee was in a movie where he did more or less the same thing. The film was Lost Boundaries. He played an African-American police officer who befriends a confused white teenager, takes him under his wing, shows him the kindness of strangers. Coming up, good neighbors and bad neighbors in the same neighborhood. A street mob, a tap dancer, a PA system, and the chairman of the board. That's in a minute when our program continues.

This is American Life. I'm Myra Glass. Each week in our program, of course, we choose a theme, bring you a variety of different kinds of stories on that theme. Today's show is a rerun from the early years of our program, the kindness of strangers and where the kindness might lead. All our stories in today's show are from the supposedly least kind city in America, New York City. And we have arrived at act three of our program. And for this act, we figured nice, nice, nice, nice, nice. We figured we would need a change of pace after all this kindness and attempted kindness.

And this is a story about the flatout unkindness of strangers and how it could take two people who do not know each other and make them completely obsessed with each other. Our senior editor Paul Tu reports some names in this story have been changed. Helga's neighborhood used to be entirely Ukrainian, respectable, with an Orthodox church and a community center. And then things changed. young people started arriving and now the place is full of record stores and cafes and body piercing parlors. Star is one of the newcomers. She moved in 2 years ago right next door to Helga and the trouble between them started right away.

Starly says that at first it was just regular New York apartment stuff. She would like come and kind of tell me that like not to like make noise in the apartment and she would like I wear slippers at night so like you should be wearing slippers too and

and she'd come and just knock on your door and tell you no she would tell me like downstairs in a hall like I'd see her like in passing and she was actually really calm about it and she and she looked like a helpless old woman back then and I'd try to like be quieter because of it and then and I think I even helped her carry like her groceries up the stairs once. I think I actually did do that

from Starly's point of view. She tried to be quiet. She tried to be nice. But she was a college student at the time and she had a lot of friends and people would drop by late at night. So it was hard to be quiet all the time. From Helga's point of view, Starly was a terrible neighbor, the worst. And Helga made sure that Starly knew exactly how she felt.

Like she would occasionally sit in a hallway and talk to people about us, but there would not be anyone out there to talk to. She would just kind of like make up conversations and gossip about us, but we'd like open the door and she'd be like, "They all went they all ran upstairs really quick." And she wasn't talking to anyone about us just so we know that she didn't like us.

And so what sorts of things was she saying at that point? Just that we were we were loud bad kids. Like just we were loud and irresponsible and she didn't know she didn't believe any of us ever went to school. Like she refused to believe that. So she just didn't like I think she didn't like we were young.

Helga wanted everyone else in the building to see the Starly that she saw. So she started throwing garbage out into the little landing that they shared apparently to try to make everyone think that it was people in Starly's apartment number three who were responsible.

Cigarette butts and like just crumpled piece of paper and like orange juice carts and stuff like that. And it started off really small and it just got huge and like it just became like so much trash in the hallway and people smoke here so it looked like we were doing it. And also like her the type of type of trash she picked. She like tried to go out of her way to find like kid trash like Hostess doughnut wrappers and like candy bar things and just like the most creative garbage you've ever seen. And so then so people at first thought we were doing it and they would come and talk to us and be like don't put the trash. I'm like I'm not putting the trash.

Jake Bronstein Starly's roommate at the time she's had nine roommates. I should say nine in the two years she's lived there. Jake decided to do something.

Jake wrote a note saying, "Please don't put trash in the hallway and I put it outside in our hallway. We have like a little square hallway and he just taped it on the wall." And so then we like hear her come out and we look through the keyhole and we see she's put a sign up and we come out there and it says, "Well then please don't sell drugs." And that's the first time we'd ever heard of it. We're just like whoa. Like we can't like we had this it was so out of the blue we couldn't believe it. Ever since that day, more than 6 months ago, Hela has put up at least one note about Starly every single day.

Sometimes as many as seven or eight. They're mostly pretty small, maybe 2 in by 3 in. The notes are written in marker in block letters. Helga puts notes in the front door, over the mailboxes inside, on the window, on her own door, on Starly's door. The wording varies, but the message is always the same. Starly is a big-time drug dealer. She's selling drugs out of apartment number three and she should stop or move out. Starly actually collects the notes that Helga puts up. One whole wall of her apartment is covered with them. Starly shows me a few choice ones.

See, she puts she had number three selling drugs business as usual. Um on Passover, she put shame selling drugs on Passover. Um she has she's got let's see Ken Brunstein drug dealer selling your way to the jail house. kind and bronze drug dealers selling illegal drugs here like parasites.

Starly says that in fact she's not selling drugs. She's never sold drugs. No one in her apartment has ever sold drugs. It's all a big lie.

I I asked her to come into the apartment. I'm like, "Come in the apartment. Look anywhere you want." Like honestly, like we'll go to the cops together. I don't mind that at all. Helga doesn't just put up signs. She peers out her door whenever anyone comes to visit Starly. She harasses Starly's friends across Starly in the hallway. Calls her a liar. And then there's this.

Not see like it moves. We're inside Starly's apartment about 1:00 in the morning. Helga is sitting in her apartment right next to the thin wall that separates the two of them. And she's tapping on the floor just to let Starly know she's there. She's always watching. I look up at the wall. For me, it's a very creepy moment. Starly's used to it. It's I I got to say it's the um

it's just she it's just to get our attention, just to remind us that she's even when she's not putting the sign up, that she's like aware of what of our illegal activities. We were like watched we watched Iic Claudia on PBS and it was three hours from the first credit to last credit. We were It was like continued tapping the entire time. She just sat in her door and banged her cane the entire time. And she'll do it. I mean, she does not get tired. And that's what she does with her day. Instead of eating, she just bangs her cane.

That's kind of sad. It is sad. I know it's sad. It's hard though. It's hard cuz it's hard to know what the right thing to do is and to be confronted by like such meanness. So, cuz like the more like sometimes you'll just be like coming home and you'll be like, "God, this woman is the saddest woman in the world." You'll pass by her door and get like like feelings of like pity and affection and then she'll open it and she'll yell at you and you're just like, "Man, like you can't it's she try she makes it so hard to do the right to just be like a good person about it."

A couple of years ago, there actually was a drug dealer in the building up on the top floor. It was a bad scene. Junkies being dragged downstairs and out to the front stoop. People sleeping on the roof. And everyone else in the building banded together and went to court and actually got the drug dealers kicked out. Helga was one of the people who testified. And Starley thinks that that might be connected to what's happening now. Helga got a lot of attention and support from that campaign. And so now she's trying to do it again with Starly.

I tried to speak to Helga about all this to get her side of the story, but it wasn't easy. The way Starly described her, she's suspicious of strangers. She never lets anyone into her apartment. She doesn't answer her buzzer. So I decided that I'd try to speak to her out on the street. One night, I waited outside the building for about an hour, and finally she came out.

Excuse me, do you live in this building here? I'm trying to find out. It was a very strange interview. She wasn't what I expected. She seemed completely normal. I told her that I had heard something was going on with apartment number three, and I asked her if she knew what it was. Yes, she told me. They're selling drugs. I asked her if she'd talked to me about it, and she said that she would, but she didn't want me to use her voice on the radio. Too dangerous, she said. She led me across the street behind a van where she said it would be safer to talk. She was deadly serious, very intense. She clearly felt that she was in a dangerous situation. She was willing to give me a few details, but the rest, she told me I'd have to dig out myself. Here's what she said. The building is full of students. The people in apartment 3 sell to the students in the building.

They also use the students as couriers to sell drugs in the bars all around the neighborhood. It's a big operation and it's all being run by that short girl, she said. meaning Starly. If Helga were to hear the story on the radio, she would tell you that I've got it all wrong, that I've been duped, that everything Starly told me is a lie. And some of what Helga says makes perfect sense. She says that people are coming and going all the time from Starly's apartment, which is in fact true. She says the phone rings at all hours of the night, and it does. For Helga, that points to one thing, drugs.

For Starly, it's just that she's a student. She stays up late. She's got a lot of friends. There's no middle ground for Starly and Helga. They see absolutely everything differently. From Starly's point of view, there was a period at the beginning where this whole thing was sort of funny, where it was just a good story. But as time went on, things changed and Starly became as serious as Helga.

There would be times when I wanted to catch her and act so badly cuz I never caught like she's so quick and you could never catch him putting the sign up. I wanted to just open it so badly that I just like wouldn't leave for like an hour be like, "No, you guys go ahead to the movie. I'm just going to stay here and wait by the door for a little longer." And it was hard. There's a way, especially at that at that period where the two of you were sort of, you know, inextricably linked that she's sitting there waiting in her apartment for you and you're sitting here,

right? That's what it was. It was like me lying in wait of her lying and wait for me. Absolutely. We we Yeah, we're we're the bond was strong.

Most of the time, the unkindness of strangers is a barely conscious thing. You cut someone off in traffic. You take the last donut. You bump into someone running for a train. You don't even think about it. With Helga and Star Lee, things are different. They're unkind to each other. They spy on each other. They bicker. They yell at each other in the hallway. But for each of them, those unkindnesses are part of a bigger picture. They're mean because they have to be. Starly's trying to clear her name. Helga's trying to clean up the neighborhood. I really I mean if someone had gone to her first and you were if you're writing a history of this village or writing a history of this building and then someone just interviewed her it would go down that like this heroical lady tried to get these drug doors out she'd be the martyr or whatever and uh I guess that could become fact then I told you I mean it almost is fact sometimes

I'm questioning myself sometimes about it. I used to um I guess you used to question whether or not you were a drug dealer.

No, but I just am I right? Am I am I doing something wrong? Is there something Is there something wrong I'm doing like that? Is she a little bit right? Not that I'm a drug dealer, but am I

like just are you a bad neighbor? Yeah. Bad neighbor, bad person. Am I abusing her?

Starly always thought of herself as a basically good and neighborly person. She never thought she was the kind of person who would do something like yell at an old woman in the hall. And yet she does. Unkindness breeds unkindness. Still, Starly can't help wishing that things could somehow be different.

I've been having these dreams where we've become um very very clear dreams, like long epic dreams. I think where she's come over and we've chatted on the bed and we've like been giggling in the dreams and like I've had dreams where I've seen made her like we've come to terms with a lot of things. have explained it and it's like this summer like before they used to be I've had like they're only like violent or just like I was at her funeral you know I was a little sad at that point but I was visiting her in jail but this time I've had these like friendship dreams all summer long and because they're really realistic like she like acts like herself and then like I say I say like the thing I'm supposed to like I can't figure out what I'm supposed to say when I'm awake and and I say it and uh and like all a sudden like like really like logic comes into her eyes and she like has sat down in my bed and we've like started to

like giggle and like just talk about things and like make jokes to each other and [snorts]

what do you mean the thing that you're you're you're supposed to say that you can't figure out

whatever I'm supposed to be saying whatever I could possibly say to her in real life to make her like see the light you know

what do you think how do you think you'd feel if they just if the nose just suddenly stopped one Um, I don't know. I'd probably I'd wait a couple days and I'd see. And I I I don't know. I I can't imagine they would stop though.

So, what was the last time you talked to her? Talked her yesterday. Coming pathological liar.

Paul tough with Starly K. Paul's latest book is called The Inequality Machine. Years after we first broadcast this story, Starly went on to make a legendary and wonderful podcast called Mystery Show. If you have never heard the show, seriously check it out. I'm going to say the name again now. Mystery Show.

I love to be [singing] by you. No one else can. Act four, chairman of the block. The story takes place almost around the corner from Starly's apartment building just a few blocks away. It's about one small act of kindness leading somewhere completely unexpected. A resident of the neighborhood, Blake Eskin, tells the story. About a month ago, I went out one Friday evening with a friend in the East Village where we both live. On the street, we heard Frank Sinatra music blasting loud enough to wake the neighbors.

Fairy tales can come true. It can happen to you. As we reached Fourth Street, I saw 100 people huddled around the stoop of a sixth floor tenement. Most of them were postcol pre-childbearing types. Plus, there were some older people who probably lived on the block. Everyone seemed to have forgotten where they were headed, whether to a party or to another bar or back to bed.

You will go to extremes with impossible schemes. A short, dark-haired guy in a suit stood at the top of the stoop holding a microphone. At first, I thought maybe the guy was lip-syncing because he sounded exactly like Sinatra. But after a few seconds, I realized he was doing the cruning himself. The guy looked a little like Sinatra and he moved like him, too. But this was no run-of-the-mill Sinatra impersonator. It was as if he was possessed by the spirit of Sinatra, channeling the chairman of the board that Frank himself had emerged from retirement, dyed his hair black again, and was with us on Fourth Street.

She gets too hungry for dinner at 8. She adores this theater, but she never arrives late. Come over here, Susan. At the bottom of the stoop was someone you would not ordinarily see with Frank Sinatra. An older woman with spiky salt and pepper hair and a leopard print vest was doing a spirited if slightly awkward tap dance on a piece of wood she had dragged out onto the sidewalk.

She doesn't like crap games with baronss and won't go dressed to a party all up in some other girl's [singing] pearls. She won't dish the dirt with the rest of those girls. That's why this chick is a champ. After my initial confusion and my subsequent bliss, my next reaction was to wonder how this was possible. Where were the cops? The ninth precinct is a block away, and New Yorkers are quick to complain about noise. And Mayor Rudolph Giuliani has made it a priority for the police to crack down on what he calls quality of life violations like these.

Noise, crowds, blocking traffic, drinking in the street. But on Fourth Street, everything was copathetic, and it still is. Somehow, by some quirk of fate, the show outside 124 East 4th Street has happened five Fridays in a row. The singer Nick Traitus lives on the first floor of the building and the tap dancer Lorraine Goodman lives on four. Gary and Wanda who run the garden level thrift shop put their merchandise, the chairs and over stuffed couches on the sidewalk for the audience's comfort. She never bo with some bum that she'd hate.

I said that's why Nick Traitas and Lorraine Goodman are neighbors. And like most people who live in the same building, they didn't know much about each other. Lorraine did know, however, that Nick had a big jazz record collection. 5 weeks ago, Lorraine decided she wanted to tap dance in front of the building as a sort of therapy. she says and she reached out to Nick asking him to play some tunes while she tap danced that weekend was what happened was I was coming home I'll tell you exactly what happened when I was coming home that Friday evening around 9:00 and I forgot her name and I'm walking down Fourth Street from Second Avenue and I'm like oh there she is tapping and I don't want to do this I'm tired I'm like and then I had to reach for her name in my little um in my uh pocket my uh what's this thing pocket daytime timer and I'm like hates Lorraine. Then I walked down the street and I said, "Hi, Lorraine. How are you?"

And she goes, "Oh, come on out Nick and join me." Blah, blah, blah. And I think she assumed I'll bring out some music. That was it. I don't I don't think she was expecting, you know, a suit and microphone stand and and and the PA, the CDs, the cassettes, the whole number.

Thanks to uh Lorraine Goodman. This is the brains behind this wonderful event here.

Say good evening, Lorraine. Good evening, Lorraine. Nick's initial gesture of kindness to Lorraine, a near stranger, made her into a local celebrity, and made himself into an even bigger one.

There were only a handful of people watching Lorraine tap dance when Nick went outside with his instant Sinatra kit, which includes a few CDs from a series called Pocket Songs. The discs have the full Sinatra arrangements without a vocalist. The slogan is you sing the hits. Nick began with I've got the world on a string. The crowd built steadily and right away Nick had the crowd on a string standing on the stoop. Had the string around his finger. What a world. What a world. What a life. I'm in love. I've got a song that I sing.

Nick showed me a picture taken when he was 15. He's wearing a tuxedo, his hair parted to the side,

standing at a microphone and pointing back at the camera. It is a picture of a 15-year-old boy from Pikipsy, New York in Frank Sinatra drag.

I'm I am basically what I'm doing right now. I have been into since I was a kid, since I was 10 years old.

We've got the world on our string and we're swinging on a rainbow. We got the string around our finger. What a world. What a life. We all are involved.

Nick trained as a jazz vocalist at Boston's Berkeley College of Music, moved to New York, and after a while, he found a job with the Starlight Orchestra, a 16piece band that performs at high society weddings and corporate events. The Starlight Orchestra has five vocalists, and Nick is their Sinatra specialist. Each of us in the audience had been lured by the improbability of the situation, but Nick's stage presence kept us there. Most street performers in New York go where the tourists go since most of us natives are too busy to stop and listen. Nick singing from his stoop, however, was a gift to his own neighborhood. Nick really knows how to work a room, even when it's not a room.

He weaves his neighbors names into the lyrics. There's Brendan, our lovely neighbor here. Lucky me. How you doing, Reggie? Can't you see I'm in love?

He plugs Gary and Wanda's thrift shop and thanks them for their help. He salutes a couple watching from a nearby fire escape. He dedicates witchcraft to a pretty blonde standing in the back row and flirts with her at the end of the song. Ooh, I got a crush on you two, baby. Oo, you're a fine witch.

Just like Frank would have done. Now, it's a safe bet that if Nick and Lorraine had been breakdancing or playing conga drums, the police would have shut them down in 20 minutes tops. But the officers of the 9inth precinct fell under the same spell as the rest of us, and they couldn't bring themselves to get out of the patrol car to enforce the mayor's quality of life rules. The first week they would circle around the block, you know, speak through their megaphone, you know, they they would say like, you know, people please don't block the streets, you know, please keep the streets clear. And that was it. That was like the first week. The second week they requested Summer Wind.

They requested Summer through the megaphone. Through the megaphone as they were passing. The third week, the third week, the third week, the police came and they stopped their car, held up traffic, and they said, "Okay, Summer Wind." They wanted to hear Summer Wind. So, I I finished Night and Day. I put Summer Wind on, and I went up on the steps. They manipulated their lights on the top and threw a white spotlight on me and I started singing Summerwind. The crowd went crazy, you know. Oh, they went nuts and uh they were like really into it. Evident I mean it's that it's that it is it's that whole New York macho Italian police Irish street. It's it is man and like evidently what I'm doing they connect with that

summer. It came blowing from across the sea. Of course they do. So do the black men with dreadlocks. The young white guys in Wuang Clan t-shirts. The teenagers immersed in the swing lounge scene. The pot-bellied Italian men of a certain age smoking cigars. And sitting front row center wearing a partycoled mumu. Nick's next door neighbor Jean who has lived at 124 East 4th Street for the last 48 years. For all of them and for me, there is something about Frank Sinatra and something about how Nick Tritus interprets Frank Sinatra that bewitches us, that touches us.

I said, "Like painted kites, those days [singing and music] and nights they went flying by."

There's a guy who's next door and he he he embraced me. He hugged me. this old Chinese guy, man, with a hearing aid. I'm like, I made I touched this guy. And I don't know how I did it, but I did it, you know. Hey, now the autumn wind and the winter winds, they have come and they have gone. For any New Yorker to do something as big as this for his neighbors again and again is more than an anomaly. It is as rare and unstable as the elements at the bottom of the periodic table. The key ingredients of this event, neighborliness, generosity, free time, good weather, cooperative police officers are hard to come by in this city and they are nearly impossible to find together in the same place week after week. The Nick and Lorraine show has had a longer run than anyone could expect. and something rain or the first frost or the ninth precinct or a Friday night gig with the Starlight Orchestra will soon bring it to a halt.

There's a gossip columnist in the New York Post named Cindy Adams and it is tempting to resort to her mantra only in New York folks only in New York to explain this phenomenon. But in Nick's case, the wisdom of Cindy Adams does not suffice. This is not the stuff of New York. Not of the real New York or even of the New York of a bygone era, but of a mythical movie New York, a Lori sideblock built on a studio back lot. It is the first reel of an unknown MGM musical from just after the war and it stars Nick Tritus. What happens in the rest of the film is anyone's guess.

Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wondering in the night. What were the chances we'd be sharing love before the night was through?

Blake Eskin in New York. Well, this episode of our show was first broadcast years ago. As I've said these days, Blake makes a podcast about subway photography called Metropolitan Faces. The Nick and Lorraine Show is no longer running on that block of New York. Don't go looking for it, but the duo does occasionally perform reunion shows around the city. This episode was produced by Nancy Updike and myself with Elise Spiegel and Julie Snider. The senior editor for this episode of our show was Paul Tu. Special thanks to Jerry Row helping today's rerun from Michael Kate, Suzanne Gabber, Molly Marcelo, Katherine Ray Mondo, and Stone Nelson. This week's rerun is the very last show we're working on with Suzanne Gabber, who's been our fellow here at the show for six months, has made so many stories so much better with her reporting and her thoughts. We will miss her and her many skills. This American life is

delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio exchange. That is always to program co-founder, Mr. Tory Melatio, who says, "No, no, no, no, no.

Do it like this. Move it up and down slowly, bobbing the end of the tool slightly from side to side. I'm Harry Glass. Back next week with more stories of this American life.

Questions about this episode

Who speaks in "Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75"?

Ira Glass (Host), Brett (Host), Joel Kman (Guest), Jack Guyger (Guest), Starly (Guest), Helga (Guest), Nick Traitus (Guest), Lorraine Goodman (Guest).

What is "Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75" about?

The main topic centers on the concept of kindness displayed by strangers in everyday situations, highlighting a particular instance at a subway platform where a man arbitrarily determines who can "stay" or "go" among commuters. This exploration delves into the judgments we encounter from strangers and the impact of their perceptions on our self-worth and social interactions.

What is mentioned in this This American Life episode?

51 people, works and ideas are mentioned, including New York City, New York, Ira Glass, This American Life, Canada Lee, Jack Guyger, Nick Traitus. Each one on this page links to its own page with every episode that mentions it.

How long is "Kindness of Strangers | This American Life | Episode 75"?

The episode runs 59 min; the transcript is about 10,112 words in 122 timestamped sections.

More from This American Life

About this transcript: the episode's spoken words as captioned on YouTube, split into timestamped sections. Reclip.Me locates every person, work and idea in the text, keeps the time it is first named, and quotes the words around it verbatim. Last updated February 9, 2026.