[gentle intro music]
[Henry Chang] You know,
Corky is not blood, to me.
He’s not family like that, but…
he’s street.
And down here street,
a lot of times,
means more than blood.
And Corky is street.
All my brothers from down here in the street,
we know what that means,
and…
it’s thicker than blood.
And that’s what Corky meant to me, I miss him.
I never thought it would go this way.
But…
you know you can plan ahead,
but you really only live one day at a time.
And I’m…
I’m gonna miss the hell out of that guy.
[hooting and drum roll]
[Henry Chang] I lived here 60 years,
on these mean streets.
When Chinatown was just only three blocks long.
Pell street, Mott street, Bay yard.
It’s much bigger now,
even though it’s changing all the time.
You want to walk the Chinatown beat?
Let’s row.
Some writers face a laptop all day long,
and they burn out great stories.
Unfortunately, I’m not one of those.
I prefer to be out on the streets,
to feel the wind, or the rain,
or the hot sun.
Where reality crashes into your imagination.
Where creativity is visceral and emotional,
instead of being intellectual.
That’s why some crime writers,
they ride along with the cops.
So my style is organic.
It feels empirical.
This Chinatown, demi-monde, this human condition.
This world of pool rooms and karaoke clubs,
gambling houses, after hour bars, massage parlors.
Populated by street gangs and bad cops and bad people.
And tom criminals and dope peddlers.
When you’re cruising the Chinatown criminal underworld,
all your images and your people
are recorded clandestinely with key words,
and quick headlines and your word vision.
You try to take a souvenir from the location, if you can.
And it seems like there’s never much time,
but then again, what’s the big hurry?
For now the year of the Rat,
has become dark and dangerous and merciless.
It’s like a ghost town.
But even though it’s like ghost town sometimes.
What about the people who live here?
The senior citizens,
the immigrants, who have nowhere else to go.
The shopkeepers, the cooks and the waiters,
the baker, the newsstand, the hardware store,
the butcher, the baker, the takeout maker.
All the Chinatown businesses.
These people will tell their stories.
And if they will continue to struggle
through this phase of their lives.
And that’s what’s going to keep Chinatown alive.
The stories of these people,
who have nowhere else to go.
Their stories of survival and struggle,
and triumph.
I think the year of the Ox,
will bring Chinatown back.
The Ox is strong and durable and resilient.
And the year of the Ox
will be the light at the end of the tunnel.
[speaking in Chinese]
Happy New year, everyone.
[drum beats and hooting]
