The daughter of a prominent New York doctor and her Occupy Wall Street-organizer boyfriend were arrested after police discovered an explosive used for making bombs and a cache of weapons in their upscale New York City apartment, it was claimed.
Morgan Gliedman, 27, and Aaron Greene, 31, were taken away from their home in Manhattan’s pricey Greenwich Village on Saturday.
Gliedman, who is nine months pregnant, is the daughter of a top Brooklyn cancer doctor and was educated at the Dalton School, an exclusive New York prep school attended by the likes of Anderson Cooper and Claire Danes.
Greene went to Harvard University for his undergraduate degree and did graduate work at the Kennedy School of Government there, as well.
The New York Post reports that police found seven grams of HMTD, a high explosive powder that was reportedly used in the 2005 London Underground bombings.
Officers discovered bomb-making instructions, including one document titled ‘The Terrorist Encyclopedia,’ according to the newspaper
Police evacuated the building and several others nearby as the bomb squad removed to highly-unstable material from the apartment.
Officers also found a flare gun that could be used as a grenade launcher, a modified Mossberg 500 12-gauge shotgun, nine high-capacity rifle magazines and ammunition, according to the Post. ‘
Police confiscated several notebooks with instructions for making boobytraps and makeshift submachine guns and several sheets with handwritten chemical formulas.
Greene is an activist with Occupy Wall Street and friends told police his political views are ‘extreme,’ a source told the newspaper.
The NYPD allegedly found the dangerous material after they went to Gliedman and Greene’s apartment to question Gliedman, who was wanted for credit card theft, the Post reports.
Gleidman’s father is Dr Paul Gleidman, the Columbia University-educated director of radiation oncology at Beth Israel Hospital’s Brooklyn division.
Her mother is Susyn Schops Gliedman, a top New York real estate agent.
Morgan Gliedman grew up in an upscale apartment on Park Avenue.
When I was about 6, my dad and I were sitting near Wall Street when I asked him why so many men were wearing suits and ties. It was the 1970s, and we lived in Greenwich Village, a place where you could see men wearing almost anything except a suit and tie. My dad, a theater actor, told me that the people on Wall Street cared about money, and as a result, they had to dress formally. I even remember feeling bad for these poor chumps.
Since the 1970s, though, the financial industry has grown faster than nearly any other in size and as a proportion of the overall economy. In 1970, it was about 4 percent of the G.D.P. Last year, it was twice that. The impact is felt everywhere in the United States, but it may be most evident in the Village. The artists, weirdos and blue-collar families that I grew up with (save the lucky rent controllers) are long gone. They’ve been replaced, in large part, by guys in suits.
During the ’70s and ’80s, the Village was the Jane Jacobs ideal, a neighborhood crammed with small mom-and-pop stores. That’s changed too. That old house-plant store is now a Marc Jacobs boutique. The dowdy bird store with the parrots in the window became Magnolia Bakery. The onslaught of luxury brands — Ralph Lauren, Jimmy Choo, Burberry, among them — has been so relentless that I’m happy when I see one of the old shops still in business. As an economics geek, I also wonder how in the world they survived. How have they innovated? How were they shrewd enough to overcome the rising rents and profit off a new, wealthy clientele?
I recently stopped by the oldest Village business I could think of, McNulty’s Tea & Coffee Co., which was established on Christopher Street in 1895. David Wong, whose family bought the place in 1980, didn’t have any savvy business secrets. When I asked how business had changed since the ’80s, Wong shrugged. “It’s about the same,” he said. What? Back then, nobody was talking about fancy coffee. I remember avoiding walking on this block for fear of being propositioned.
Wong clarified himself: Yes, the neighborhood had changed drastically. So had its taste for upmarket coffee. McNulty’s used to stock a fairly small selection; fancy beans, like French Roast Java, sold mostly during Christmas. Now their big sellers include Puerto Rican Yauco Selecto, which goes for $26 a pound. But demand has grown at just about the same rate as the rise in rent and the price of beans. And the Wongs have done little to innovate. McNulty’s had the same disheveled charm that it always did, from the beautiful Chinese tins that held tea leaves to the wall of rubber stamps they use to mark everything. It doesn’t sell coffee online. “We’re not way richer or poorer,” he insisted. “We’re about the same.” And this didn’t bother him.
The Last Sane Liberal: Mayor Ed Koch’s practical progressivism saved Gotham’s finances and restored its spirit
This past summer, Edward I. Koch, a Democrat, made headlines by noisily endorsing Republican Bob Turner in a special election to fill the congressional seat of disgraced Tweeter Anthony Weiner. The former mayor explained that he’d decided to rally Jewish voters in Brooklyn and Queens to chastise President Obama for his Israel policy. Koch’s outsize role in Turner’s surprise victory made for big political news and led to speculation that Obama could be facing trouble in his reelection bid.
The episode was unusual, but unusual has always been de rigueur for Koch, a three-term mayor and a constant post-mayoral presence in New York City. For one thing, Koch has long described himself as a “liberal with sanity” in a city that consistently tilts left. Further, Koch’s personality and ego have always been larger than life, and long before the era of 24-hour news, the mayor found imaginative ways to keep himself in the spotlight. So while the role he played in the Turner election was eye-catching, it wasn’t surprising when you considered his eventful, iconoclastic career.
Ed Koch was born in the Bronx in 1924 to Polish Jewish immigrant parents. After completing his law degree at NYU and beginning his legal career, he moved into an apartment in Greenwich Village, where he became involved in local Democratic politics. In 1963, he ran for Greenwich Village district leader as a reform Democrat and won, beating the powerful machine pol Carmine De Sapio. Koch’s willingness to run against the local Democratic Party machine was an early sign of his independence: for this Democrat, party loyalty wasn’t the ultimate virtue.
In 1968, Koch ran for Congress and proved a tireless politicker. One month before the election, his opponent, Whitney North Seymour, Jr., saw him asking for votes outside a subway station, struck up a conversation, and asked how long he had been doing that kind of campaigning. “Oh, about a year,” Koch replied. The “look on Seymour’s face,” Koch wrote in his autobiography, Mayor, meant that Seymour knew that the man with two names was going to beat the man with four names.
At first, there weren’t many indications that Koch would be anything but a run-of-the-mill Democratic congressman. As he remembered in a 2007 article for the New York Press, “I was just a plain liberal.” But he made a telling deviation from convention in 1972, when residents of Forest Hills in Queens were protesting the planned development of three 24-story buildings that would house 4,500 residents on public assistance. The protests seemed to pit the Jewish residents of Forest Hills against the African-American community. Koch sided with the protesters and called for a reduction in the size of the developments.