My son lives one avenue over from the East Village burned-out building, destroyed by a major gas leak explosion a few weeks ago.

He had been worried that it was a matter of time before areas of the city, particularly the Village, imploded. The infrastructure is just too old and jerry-rigged, he complained, as we munched on delicious Korean dumplings, hand rolled by Korean ladies standing behind the counter in front of us.

I have always worried about someone pushing him onto the subway tracks or his being mugged on a dark street at two a.m.-never imaging a gas explosion around the corner from his apartment, destroying an entire building and quarantining several neighboring ones. […]