R.I.P. Mr. Stevens

Back when I was trying to get all the permits and board approvals to begin the renovation of this apartment, almost 3 years ago, I hit a snag. Seems my next door neighbor, Mr. Stevens, was trying to stop the construction for fear of the dust and noise it would cause. As you can imagine it almost sent me over the edge. You can read all about it in an old post here.
Everything eventually turned out fine. I met Mr. Stevens in the hallway a few weeks after I moved in and he was always pleasant, we would make short chitchat in the lobby or elevator bank when we'd cross paths, the issue of his renovation fears never came up.
So cut to me getting home to the city the other day and when I got off the elevator I saw a green sticker on Mr. Stevens' door, his is right next to mine.



I got up close to read it, thinking "this can't be good".
It said "THESE PREMISES HAVE BEEN SEALED BY THE NY POLICE DEPT..."



Uh-oh.
Could it be a robbery? Or something worse? I had a sneaker. So I called down to the doorman and asked him what was up. Sadly, Mr. Stevens had passed away a few days before, one of the doormen found him collapsed in his apartment. I later found out from another doorman that he was supposed to be visiting his nephew's family and when he didn't show up they called the building and asked if someone could please check on their uncle, that's when they found him.
No one knows the official cause of death but it was probably just very old age. Recently late at night I would hear him cry out, as if he was in some sort of pain, it was a little eerie, especially when the walls are so thick in this building. To hear that he must've been pretty loud. I do know also that he was very frail and it was quite an effort for him to walk, he used a cane.
I'm not sure why the police close up the residence, maybe that's a city ordinance until they determine the real cause of death?
The last time I saw him was in early January, he wished me a happy new year. I always got a kick out of the fact that he had a local wine shop deliver him two bottles of wine a week. They would always be sitting outside his door. At least he had that little joy. And his cat, an Abyssinian.
Of course, now my mind runs to thinking about how great my place would be if I could buy that aparmtnent (it's a one bedroom) and combine it with mine. Yeah, fat chance. With what money?
Anyway, now the new intrigue will be Who will move in next to me now? Stay tuned. And God bless Mr. Stevens, may he be enjoying his wine up in heaven.