A minor diversion here: When I first arrived in New York City in September of 2001 and began exploring -- during the very little free time that I had following 9/11 -- I made it a point to spend a good amount of time in Brooklyn. I had a few friends there, I liked the vibe, etc. Considering that I had my car with me at the time, I'd generally drive across the Manhattan Bridge to get to wherever I was going, and whenever I drove at night I would invariably look off to my right and see what became known to me as the place I wanted to live in New York more than any other. The apartment, in my mind, to end all apartments. At night, for whatever reason, the windows of it would be lit in a deep red, and that just added to the mystery and glory of what I knew was beyond for whoever was lucky enough to call that place home.
It had a spectacular location, almost right on the water, with a view that I knew rivaled any in the world. I could see it had architectural features that made it stand out, even in a city like New York. And it had that clock. I just fell in love with the place.
Until this morning, I had never seen inside it.
It's everything I imagined it would be.
The Brooklyn Tower Clock Penthouse
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