Gentrification in NYC: New York's last round?

There is something soulful-bluesy between Muddy Waters and Sam Cooke that comes through to us through the babble of voices as we enter “Jimmy’s Corner”. The music actually comes from a real CD juke box, but to get there you have to go through the narrow tube between the long bar and the wall. Now I understand why this type of pub is called a “dive bar” here. You really have to immerse yourself in and through the crowd of sweating, chattering, drinking and laughing people who are standing at the counter because they want to order or are waiting for their drinks or just want to talk to the bartender.

Her name is Wendy, as we find out a little later, and she really doesn't feel like chatting much today. There are only two of them in service and there is a lot of beer to pour, money to collect and empty bottles and glasses to collect. She still complains about our tip: “On three-dollar beers, only a one-dollar tip?” I explain that we come from Europe and we'll add four dollars to the next two beers. “You are the journalists who were here recently,” she says, much more satisfied.

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A few days before, we had enjoyed the walls covered in boxing match posters, the funky music and, above all, the affordable beer. We had no idea how special this bar on 44th Street in the middle of Manhattan is. Until a guy said he'd been coming here for 40 years. And the man in the many photos with all the boxing greats is Jimmy, the founder of this bar, who died almost six years ago. Also that the pub is threatened with eviction, which Wendy confirms.

Like a relic from another era, Jimmy’s Corner sits down a street from the flashing lights and billboards of Times Square. 55 years ago, in 1971, Jimmy Lee Glenn opened the restaurant with his wife Swietlana “Swannie” Garbarska. Her son Adam, who was born ten years later and is now the bar manager, says on the phone - he is currently out of town - that Jimmy also ran a boxing studio two streets away. He was something like the elder statesman of New York boxing.

He worked in boxing in various roles for 75 years. Everyone knew and respected him: Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson liked to come by. Photos taken together hang in the pub. It was a time when the area was characterized by sex shops, prostitution, johns, drugs, illegal businesses, a time and an area with the rough charm of a Martin Scorsese film. At least that's what it sounds like when Adam talks about growing up there.

His father Jimmy stood in his pub every day and talked to customers until his death at the age of almost 90. No matter whether rich or poor, what skin color, what country, whether regular guests or tourists - everyone was welcome in Jimmy's Corner. And that's how it is today. “That’s what New York is all about,” says Adam. Hundreds of photos tell stories of the evenings and nights that the restaurant has experienced. Guests left greetings and expressions of love on dollar bills.

But times have long since changed in Times Square. Big brands now have their stores here, there are overpriced restaurants and hotels. Commerce has long dominated around Jimmy’s Corner. Meanwhile, the rent for the restaurant is still only $5,000, although in this area it could easily cost three times as much. Adam's landlord, a large real estate group called the Durst Organization, also knows this.

Last December, the real estate company tried to terminate the rental agreement and applied for eviction, says Adam. But he wouldn't be the son of a former boxer and boxing trainer if he had simply given in. Instead, he decides to go on the offensive, into battle. And files a lawsuit in the New York Supreme Court.

Some points in the rental agreement are legally challengeable, explains Adam. "There's a clause in the rental agreement that says if my father dies, they can throw us out. In my opinion, that's illegal. My father thought it was a normal, standard rental agreement," he says. He added: "I understand it's business, but that doesn't mean it has to be done in an ugly way. There certainly could have been another way." During the course of the conversation, it turns out that both Adam and his wife are lawyers, he graduated from Harvard. That's obviously an advantage, says Adam, but also sad. “Because most small businesses wouldn’t be able to defend themselves like that.”

The future of one of New York City's most iconic dive bars - then-Mayor Eric Adams even declared August 18th "Jimmy Glenn Day" in 2022 - is uncertain. Adam estimates he will be able to stay for at least six more months, but hopes for more. The rental agreement officially runs until 2029. For him, the bar means everything. “It’s the place in the world where I feel most at home,” he says.

Jimmy's Corner represents so many places that are disappearing from the big cities, I think sadly as I slowly get drunk on all the Bud Light and we get texts from different sides. It's about basketball, about jobs, about places I don't know, about love. Everyone seems to want to tell their story here. A single rule hangs above the counter: “Let’s not talk politics here.”

“There has to be a balance between real New York places with character and the big stores,” Adam said at the end of our phone call. After all, the great thing about New York is that it is a place where all kinds of people meet and have to get along with each other. Just like at Jimmy’s. “Not everyone likes dive bars like Jimmy’s, but if you like it, you’ll come back.” I really hope I can come back.

This text was made possible by the Daniel Haufler scholarship from the taz panter foundation.