The revitalization of Paterson’s landmark Great Falls district continues to impress. Today, the city announced a $2 million memorandum of understanding to build a Great Falls Recreation Center, in collaboration with the New Jersey Community Development Corporation. In addition to a new gymnasium, the facility will feature daily programs for seniors, and partner with local schools for student field trips and educational activities.

The location for this new facility is set as 54 Front Street, and the unused building that was once at that address has already been demolished. As a college freshman in 1976, I lived with two roommates in a ground floor apartment at 84 Front Street, a few doors up the block. The rear of our building was situated on a small bluff just above the Passaic River, which emptied into the Great Falls a few hundred feet downstream. At night, we could easily hear the roaring waters off in the distance, and in general, we hoped that’s all we’d hear. Car alarms weren’t common yet, but their reason for being was common enough.

Front Street looked more sketchy than it really was, but you still needed to be on your guard. Not least against a gang of fearsome alley cats that ruled the block after dark, and took no mess from anything on four legs or two. Despite the proximity of the river, no rat, racoon or possum dared walk Front Street, and woe to any unsuspecting stray seeking a friend or a mate. The leader of the pack was a colossal orange tom – I forget the nickname we gave him – with facial scars you could plainly see from a distance. He commanded, almost telepathically, a dozen or more animals closer to coyotes than house cats. The boss and his crew would emphatically not scatter as you walked past, almost spoiling for a confrontation. I don’t write these words out of hyperbole or nostalgia. These were tough, feral cats. Paterson tough.

On the opposing bank of the river behind us was one of Paterson’s unofficial landmarks: the lost and lamented Libby’s Lunch. Opened by a Greek immigrant in 1936 to provide quick, cheap eats for the nearby factory hands, Libby’s served uncountable orders of the local delicacy known as hot texas weiners, a subject for a future post. At the time, it was open until 2AM, and with a full-ish bar besides; strange for a tiny luncheonette. Whether in the morning for the classic NJ breakfast sandwich or after midnight for a couple of all-the-ways, we’d often find someone slumped on the counter, victim to either the food or the drink.

I seem to recall (or was it a dream?) that there were twin women working there, beehived and highly lipsticked; the type that a casting director immediately checks off as “wizened diner waitress.” These two worked alternating shifts as the hostess, waitress, bartender and cashier – everything except the cook, a generally unseen presence beyond a pair of hands sliding plates forward for pickup. I believe it took me several visits to realize that they were two people and I was not drunk. I’ve often wondered if Jim Jarmusch’s fixation on twins in his beautiful film Paterson might have been inspired by stops at Libby’s, thousands of nights ago.

Libby’s Lunch didn’t make it through the pandemic, and the building finally reopened last month as the Silk Cafe, serving respectable breakfasts, lunches and dinners. No doubt a clean, modern cafe will do better at the revamped Great Falls district than Libby’s would have, even if it had managed to survive. That said, a mill district with no hot texas wieners at all seems a bit sacreligious. Back in the day, Libby’s competed with the Olympic, a similar Greek joint just across the street on McBride Ave., and the Falls View, a few blocks down on Spruce Street.

In the meantime, I look forward to seeing the new rec center when it’s built. Whenever that is – no date has been set.

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