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Stop and listen. Do you hear it? The roar of the city is just a little louder, more jarring. Drivers are quicker to honk their horns, run red lights and screech their brakes.
During World War II, when accommodations were scarce, the house where I’ve lived for the past 28 years was a flophouse for more than a dozen railroad workers. Beds were lined up six to a room.
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