Concrete In My Veins

April Blog 2026 *warning spoilers for the book and the movie Rosemary's Baby

“Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?” Wait. Do you know what it means to miss New York, New York? There’s something about this city …

New Orleans was the closest big city to my home town. I didn’t visit there much until I turned 18 and my boyfriend and I would go to the city. A friend told me once she had concrete in her veins, and I have to concur. I too have concrete in my veins. I think some people find it odd that an introvert likes the busy streets, the noise. And even though I now live outside of the city limits on an extremely quiet road, a salt marsh my back yard, I love to go to the city. As an introvert, I find it oddly calming. The action happens around me. I don’t have to be entertaining. I can observe and just be in my own skin.

My first trip to New York as a young person? Wow! It was so much, there was so much of everything! I have a sense memory of this trip. The first time I walked into Saks 5th Avenue, the smell—roses. There was a promotion going on for Tea Rose perfume and the store, the very air was heady with the scent. When I smell this perfume, I am transported. I remember.

Writers and film makers alike choose New York for the setting of stories and shows. I was listening to the Books in the Freezer podcast, Stephanie’s guest, Nat Cassidy. They did a whole episode on this. Nat spoke of movies and books set in New York and talked about his book, Nestlings, the city its own character. Nestlings, with a nod to Rosemary’s Baby, is set in an old New York apartment building, the tenants suspicious, their behavior peculiar. The apartment building that serves as inspiration—The Dakota.

We were planning a family road trip, New York the final destination. I had visited the city a few times, but it had been many, many years. I was reading Nestlings at the time and made a point to visit the infamous Dakota. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been to the building before.

The opening of Rosemary’s Baby features The Dakota, intimating that it’s the building, The Bramford, where most everything goes down in the movie. The Dakota has a history. So does Rosemary’s Baby, for that matter. John Lennon was shot in front of The Dakota in 1980 and there are reported hauntings associated with the building. There was controversy surrounding Rosemary’s Baby, and if you’re interested in learning more about that, check out Cursed Films II, a documentary on Shudder. New York is a character in any story in which it is featured. Not only does the action take place inside the building, but the city streets provide a setting, the concrete, the steel, the shop windows, the traffic, all the things, the set pieces already in place.

You can’t separate the two, The Dakota and Rosemary’s Baby. In the days before drones, the opening shots set the scene. The city is tight, the building looming, oppressive even. Heavy. Bleak. It almost seems out of place, not unlike our Rosemary, the odd gal out. The viewer is left with a picture, highlighted with the infamous lullaby playing in the background.  The music creates a sense memory.

The day I visited The Dakota, I’d come from hours spent in The Museum of Natural History. I was not the best company. It was hot inside, crowded. (And I swear it’s where I picked up Covid.) When we left, we walked around, the sky dreary, the air cold and damp. But I could breathe. I was standing on a bridge in Central Park when I spotted The Dakota from another vantage point. My husband said, “If you don’t take a photo from here, you’ll regret it.” So, I did.

Now it hangs in my home near the linen closet or my Rosemary’s Baby homage corner of the house, mementos and keepsakes from my all-time favorite horror book and movie. This particular photo captured a moment in time and serves as a reminder of that trip. I see it and feel the coolness of the air, mist on my face, my senses alive, and maybe even a small sense of fear seeps into my being, and I wonder if I should have it up at all. A feeling, just a feeling, scratching at the back of my brain. Am I asking for trouble? For a moment in real time, a sensation of dread creeps up my spine thinking of the story’s subject matter, the rumors surrounding the making of the film.  But I haven’t had the urge to take it down. Yet.

People and places, smells and sounds, all of these things can conjure memories. Rewatching movies or rereading books—it’s like visiting an old friend. It’s fascinating how many times New York city is used as the backdrop in stories be it romance, comedy, action, or horror And why not? There’s no place like it in the world.

Photo credits: Greta T. Bates/Don Bates