They performed the song a couple of times, thanked me, and left. A moment later, the singer returned, cheeks wet with tears. "Thank you, sir," she said, squeezing my hand. Then, urgently: "I love the songs so much."
A wrecking ball is set to fly through Little Pete's. Progress commands that a 300-room hotel must take the place of the parking ramp at 219 South 17th Street in whose corner nestles one of Center City Philadelphia's treasures.