CRIMSON COURT

I had heard High Grade Jay called himself an architect before the war. His work in Appalachia gave me reason to believe it, and Crimson Court puts him firmly in the Commonwealth, too. He took the cramped ground at Hangman’s Alley and fitted two levels of timber rooms between the old Boston walls.

There is no mistaking what sort of district this is. The red lights and signs make that plain, and I cannot put my blessing on the trade. Looking at the construction, though, you can see the care in the stairs, screened rooms, and narrow walkways. Jay worked with the space he had and kept the old brick buildings around it.

A diner counter, worn furnishings, and salvaged decorations fill the gaps. From the street, much of the place hides behind broken windows and a fire escape. Step into the court and the scale of his work becomes clear. Good workmanship carries a responsibility, and I reckon that is worth remembering here.