[MichaelRyerson]

I happened to be looking at a photograph the other day (which we've seen here) which showed, among other things, the scattered remains of the Fremont Hotel including the front stairs, a curved affair of some beauty. As thought trains go, what followed was not surprising. I thought for a few minutes about how many times we've seen the Fremont, talked about it, measured other buildings from it, oriented the point-of-view by it, estimated the date of an image by it's appearance. It now seemed especially sad to contemplate this largely vacant lot even though, I'm sure, the useful life of the Fremont had come to an end. In some small way, it was similar to the feeling of having to put down a long-time pet when the deteriorating quality of their life demands it. An essentially bitter moment in an otherwise sweet association. But nonetheless, seeing those stairs brought to mind the thousands of feet that had trod them, going in or coming out of the Fremont. And then it occurred to me, a question that has always haunted me is where did the people go? Where did they end up, the people who were forced off of Bunker Hill? Or was the Bunker Hill diaspora sufficiently gradual as to allow them to simply be swallowed piecemeal by the city? Or did they find themselves in common eddies, arriving in cheap hotels, retirement homes or County Hospital in waves, a cohort of the disenfranchised. Has anyone ever published a study of this largely involuntary emigration. It seems like a worthy thing to know about.