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By the end, his voice was cracked and harsh, his eyes as hollow as his campaign coffers. Yet even as New Yorkers streamed to the polls, John Vliet Lindsay loped urgently from block to block, borough to borough, croaking a threnody that had become as familiar and unique to the streets of New York as the carp of cab drivers or the yawp of fire trucks:
I'm running for mayor because the city is in crisis. The streets are filthy. We'll rip down the cruddy slums in this town. There is crime....
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