The Baltimore Sun has a video.
It's always a bit sad to see people cheer the destruction of a city block. Of course this block was already destroyed. Now it's just a matter of tearing down empty shells of brick. Everything of value has been stripped. Now it's just a place for trash, wild animals, and crime. As sad as it is, for residents and police, a vacant lot is much better than a vacant building.
One-block streets in the Eastern have always been a pain in the ass. It's like where the gangrene starts. Just mention these names to police and watch them wince. There was the 2300 block of Crystal Ave, Henneman Ave, N Register, the 2000 block of Ellsworth, the 2200 block of Prentiss Place. Some of these places aren't even named on Google Maps. Next time you're driving though Baltimore, just try and finding 1611 Hakesley Place. First you need to find Iron Alley.
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Oh, there it is. That's Iron Alley (RIP Vincent Adolfo). And it's the only way in or out of Hakesley Place. Just go up there and make a left. I dare you. God save the officer who calls a Signal 13 in the rear of 1600 Hakesley Place, odd side.
Looking at a better map, I can even see names I don't recognize. Maybe I'm getting old, but I guess they were already vacant when I was there. I don't remember ever getting a call for Terrell Place, Eareckson Place, or Lancing Ave.
And even though it wasn't a one-block street, I'll just throw in the 700 block of N. Port for good measure. What a pain that block was. East of N Rose things got better. But I didn't police east of Rose.
And the alley streets (at least that's what I called them) weren't much better. Here's the 900 Block of N Duncan on a beautiful Spring day:
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And that's the street. Then there's the alley (pan to the right). And best of all (God bless Baltimore) the alley off the alley. My front door used to be in an alley off an alley. I had a PO Box and no chance of newspaper delivery. Hell, the 2000 census never found me. And I wasn't exactly hiding.
When I rummaged around vacants in the Eastern or watched the sun rise and trains go by from the 1300 Block of N Dallas (my favorite spot at dawn), I couldn't help but think, "there used to be families here." If you squinted really hard you could even make out ghosts of normal family life in some of the ruins: leftover broken furniture, tacky wallpaper, and console TVs (funny how those became worthless). There was almost never anything left of value. Just rubble and trash.
Though if anybody could scavenge me a marble stoop and a Formstone plaque, I'd be much obliged (I'm not kidding about the Formstone plaque).