David Ryan, a leader in the fight against the proposal to build new entrances to Village PATH stations, died in a Christmas Day fire in the basement apartment on Gay St. that he believed was threatened by the Port Authority plan.
Firefighters who responded to the 12:50 a.m. alarm on Dec. 25 at 14 Gay St. found Ryan already dead of smoke inhalation. The fire was deemed accidental, apparently ignited in newspapers and phone books piled on top of an electrical wire, a Fire Department spokesperson said.
The apartment where Ryan lived for 28 years was made famous in “My Sister Eileen,” a short story collection by Ruth McKenney originally published in the New Yorker in the 1930s and made into a Broadway play, then a movie in the 1940s and again into the 1953 musical “Wonderful Town,” currently being revived on Broadway.
The Villager last November ran an article by Jerry Tallmer about Ryan and Celeste Martin, his landlady and friend, and the historic house on the one-block-long Gay St., which curves from Waverly Pl. to Christopher St.
Ryan, 55, a retired insurance executive, became involved in the neighborhood fight against the plan to put a second exit/entrance to the Ninth St. PATH station on Christopher St. on the morning of May 22, 2002, when he was jolted out of bed by an explosive charge set off by a crew making test borings at the corner of Gay and Christopher Sts.
He mobilized neighbors in a demonstration against the city Department of Transportation and the Port Authority over the threat to the structural integrity of the 1827 brick house at 14 Gay St. posed by the PATH plans. Elected officials and preservation advocates joined the fight and delayed the project.
Ryan and his fellow protestors insisted that the Port Authority’s request for $26 million in Federal Emergency Management Agency funds for additional PATH entrances at both the Ninth St. and the Hudson St. stations was improper. FEMA eventually agreed and the agency rejected the Port Authority request in January 2003. The extra entrance for the Ninth St. PATH station, planned for Christopher St. between Sixth and Seventh Aves., is currently the subject of an environmental study being conducted by D.O.T.
Ryan often observed that “My Sister Eileen” and the plays derived from it included a scene in which laborers working on the Eighth Ave. subway tunnel in 1936 jackhammer their way through the floor of the basement apartment of 14 Gay St. — an ironic reminder of how underground construction could threaten fragile Village buildings.
“It was funny in the play,” he told a New York Times reporter two weeks ago, “but really, just think about it. One boom and it’s over. I would die if I had to leave.”
Ryan remained a relentless critic of the Port Authority but he earned the respect of preservationists and elected officials for his dedication.
“He was passionate in defense of his home and neighborhood — you had to love him for that,” said Assemblymember Deborah Glick. “He had a very dry wit and among the over-the-top accusations that he leveled at the Port Authority there was always a kernel of truth. You had to respect him because he didn’t just complain, he did a lot of work,” Glick added.
City Councilmember Christine Quinn also worked with Ryan on the PATH issue. “He was a very organized and effective advocate for his community. I’d never want to on the opposite side of an issue against him,” she said.
Cristabel Gough, a Christopher St. resident and preservation advocate who worked with Ryan for the past year and a half, said the fight against the PATH project was Ryan’s first foray into community advocacy. “He was doing a terrific job and we’re going to miss him,” she said.
Martin, his friend and landlady, said she was devastated by his death. She owns 14, 16, 17 and 18 Gay St. and 16, 18 and 20 Christopher St., properties left to her by her late father. Ryan would often act as a rental agent for apartments in the houses.
Barbara Flanagan, his neighbor for 18 years at 12 Gay St., said Ryan was a remarkable personality. “It was a life-changing experience to know him,” she said. “He was so funny and free, an unfettered guy with a raunchy wit.”
On Christmas Eve, the night of the fire, Flanagan, whose apartment shares a party wall with 14 Gay St., said she smelled wood smoke but she was not alarmed because she thought it came from Ryan’s fireplace.
“I’ve had arguments with him for years because he used starter fluid to ignite the logs in his fireplace,” Flanagan said. “I finally told him, ‘David, no more starter fluid.’ But I was there on Dec. 23 and I saw 25 squeeze bottles of fluid on the mantelpiece.”
Ryan’s basement apartment was ordinarily accessible through a door at 20 Christopher St., which led to the garden and the entrance to the back room of his apartment, Flanagan said. An iron gate and heavy planters blocked the basement entrance on Gay St. to Ryan’s front room. Firefighters were not aware of the Christopher St. access and had to break through the gate and the planters to reach the apartment, Flanagan said. The fire, however, did most damage in the back room where Ryan slept.
William Candis, Ryan’s partner for the past four years, was a frequent visitor to the Gay St. garden apartment. “It’s been the most important thing in my life,” he said this week of his relationship with Ryan.
Ryan’s triangular garden, with a rainbow flag and a French flag always flying, was described by friends as a “magical” place. Ryan told friends that it reminded him of “The Wind in the Willows,” a children’s classic by Kenneth Graham about the adventures of carefree animal characters.
When Ryan was 22 he won a Fulbright scholarship to Paris; his study plan was to explore the influence of Paris on American writers like James Baldwin. “I didn’t plan to research anything, I just wanted to go to Paris,” he told a friend last year. At the first meeting in Paris of that year’s Fulbright scholars, Baldwin burst into the room and demanded, “Who the hell is David Ryan?” It was the beginning of a fabulous year, Ryan recalled. “He knew every writer and every gay hangout in Paris,” he recalled of Baldwin.
Ryan remained a Francophile ever since. His answering machine message was recorded in both English and French, ending with “Allez les enfants,” a rallying phrase that means, “Let’s go, kids.”
He is survived by his father, Edmund J. Ryan of Ft. Myers, Fla., two brothers, Scott, of Boston and Craig of St. Louis, and a niece and a nephew. A memorial service is scheduled for Sat. Jan. 3 at Trinity Episcopal Church in Tariffville, Conn., near Hartford. A later memorial service is being planned for either Sat. Jan. 17 or Sat. Jan. 24 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church on Fifth Ave. at 53rd St. with a reception to follow at the University Club on Fifth Ave. at 54th St. Final plans will be announced soon.
