STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

 

Geraldo Rivera gave me the address of this house in New York’s lower east side in a rapidly decaying, unsafe neighborhood. He didn’t want to take a chance on another Al Capone’s safe disaster. He assured me that there was a great and important story waiting to be told. I had to see for myself.

The rotted front door easily opened. I went in. When my eyes adapted to the darkness, the only thing I saw was large, decaying stairway with light at the top. Nothing else!

I slowly, cautiously ascended the creaky, aged steps. When I reached the second floor, there was still nothing but another, similar stairway.

I ascended to the next floor with rising fear and trepidation. Third floor – the same! Fourth, fifth, sixth – still the same. Nothing!

 

Then, suddenly, at the top of the staircase to the seventh floor, there appeared a figure of an old lady, bathed in sunlight from a transom and dressed in a flowing, white, gossamer gown!

“Who are you?”, I asked.

No answer – just a low moan emanating from somewhere in the abandoned structure.

The old lady did not move. Neither did I. I was frozen with fear. Suddenly, the figure disappeared in an aura of fine white mist.

I panicked and ran down the steps as quickly as my tired legs would take me.       There was no story here; just my fatigued mind playing weird tricks on me.

But, “Ooh, it makes me wonder

Ooh, it really makes me wonder.”