Emerging from an after-midnight coffee session last week at Lindy's, his favorite spot, dapper little (5 ft. 4 in.) New York Labor Columnist Victor Riesel turned off Broadway and down silent 51st Street. By habit he had taken off his glasses. Half a block from Broadway, a young man stepped from the building shadows and threw a bottle of searing, concentrated sulphuric acid into Riesel's face. The columnist clutched at his burn ing eyes, gasping, "My gosh, my gosh!" The young man walked away and was swallowed up by the night and the city.
By the time Riesel had been taken to...
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