In 1971, James Davis, then about to graduate from City College of New York, was headed to a job on Wall Street when it fell through. When he went to the chair of his economics department, the idea came to study hospital administration, instead.

Through the 1970s, Davis worked at Roosevelt Island’s Coler-Goldwater Hospital and the Westchester Medical Center. Now, more 40 years later, Davis, 62, is president and CEO of Amsterdam Continuing Care Health System, which manages Amsterdam Nursing Home and two Long Island spin-offs.

“To be honest, I kind of fell into it, and I’m very grateful that I did,” he said.

Most of the nursing home’s 409 residents come from the Upper West Side, Morningside Heights and Harlem. The nursing home also offers an adult day health-care center for seniors to get meals, medical checkups and other services.

The nursing home, which faces the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, has a long history. The 140-year-old organization, originally the Home for Old Men and Aged Couples, moved uptown in 1896 and was rechristened Amsterdam Nursing Home in the 1970s alongside a major expansion. One of Davis’ first tasks in 1988 was to expand the original building and convert it into a health-care center to meet the needs of more frail or sick seniors.

“They come here because they need us,” he said.

But all is not quiet for Davis, because the nursing home is being hit with cuts to Medicare and Medicaid reimbursements, which he said make up more than 90 percent of Amsterdam’s revenue. He calls dealing with this part of his job “daunting.”

“It is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the quality that we want to provide as a mission-driven not-for-profit in this environment,” he said. “It really is becoming a challenge.”

To meet some of that challenge, Davis is looking into cutting costs and sharing services with other nonprofits. But the main driver of Amsterdam House’s bottom line is a move to diversify into private-market retirement homes.

Davis said their original plan to build the second retirement community in Upper Manhattan was ended by the reality of skyrocketing real estate prices and luxury developers making it too expensive to expand.

Instead, he looked to Long Island. The retirement community Amsterdam at Harborside opened in 2010 in Nassau County, and they’re building a second facility in Suffolk with help from a state grant. Profits go back into the Manhattan facility.

“There’s no question business as usual isn’t going to work anymore,” he said.

State Sen. Tom Duane, who represents much of Manhattan’s West Side, met Davis in the late 1990s. He said he has friends and relatives at Amsterdam Nursing Home.
“If I won the lottery, I would buy some place in Manhattan where he could open up a continuing care retirement community in New York, because I have the same peace of mind that I have about his facilities— that’s the same trust I have in his ability to make things happen,” said Duane.

In 2008, Davis and his wife moved to the Upper West Side from Westchester. He said he enjoys the neighborhood’s diversity and community, especially walking to work. He’s also an avid golfer, when he doesn’t work.

Still, much of his time is divided between Amsterdam Home, checking up on the progress of the new communities in Long Island and going to Albany to “hammer away on reimbursement.”

“The bottom line is, it’s an enormous responsibility to take care of a lot of people and to take care of the employees who take care of them—and that challenge is what keeps me going,” he said.

By Dan Rosenblum

Victor Reyes is used to seeing strange things during the “Dracula shift,” which is what he calls the overnight hours he works as a security guard on the George Washington Bridge.

During the day, bikers cross the span and walkers stroll to take in the Hudson River, but the night scene is different. Through the darkness, Reyes, 33, patrols the span of the bridge, on shifts often fueled by coffee and energy drinks. People who don’t know that the walkway closes at midnight insist on crossing the bridge, and some walk erratically after hours spent drinking at bars.

Occasionally some, like the man Reyes spotted after 1 a.m. on a warm Father’s Day, seem intent on jumping 212 feet into the water below.

Reyes called a partner for help and approached the man on the north side of the bridge. He noticed the man seemed drunk and said he didn’t want to live. Reyes said the man was distraught about an incident with his 5-year-old son.

“At first, I knew I was scared,” he said. “I gotta admit that, because you’re on top of the bridge, you never know what’s going to happen. You’re by yourself.”

Reyes talked to the man and sprung to hold him down. He called that “the three longest seconds of my life.” Police arrived soon after and took the man away.

Reyes, one of eight evening guards who keep watch, is a silent guardian of the span. Since the 4,700-foot-long landmark opened in 1931, it has been a magnet for suicide attempts and potential terrorist attacks. The most notable recent story was in 2010 when Rutgers University student Tyler Clementi jumped off the bridge.

Reyes works for FJC Security, a contractor that manages security for several Port Authority sites, including Newark Liberty International Airport and the World Trade Center. Because of recent security fiascos, the Authority is seeking to replace the company, but Reyes said they’re a sharp-eyed team protecting people on the bridge.

“People say that we might not do anything, but we do our job,” he said.

There are plenty of challenges. Rats scurry across the lower level of the Manhattan side and strong gusts come down the Hudson River Valley, stealing away umbrellas on rainy days and adding a chill.

“Even in the summertime, you have to wear something light, like a windbreaker, because it gets windy,” he said.

And there’s something else: Reyes, now six months into bridge duty, is scared of heights.

“So when I work at the bridge, I try not to look down,” he said.

Reyes was born in Mexico and moved to Union City, N.J., in the late 1980s. He got experience working as security at the Hudson County Courthouse in Jersey City and at a local 911 communications center.

The importance of his work and the front-row seat for the morning sunrise keeps him focused and sharp-eyed. On stopping the suicide attempt, Reyes said he wasn’t a hero, he was just doing his job and was fortunate he had the strength to keep the man—and himself—atop the bridge.

“Luckily, it went well,” he said. “We both survived. That’s a good thing.”

On nights when Reyes isn’t on the bridge, he’s at home with his wife, Veronica, and two kids, James, 7, and 17-month-old daughter, Camila. The hours let him see his children during the afternoons and before school. And the tattooed family man is saving up to get his kids’ faces on his arm.

That Father’s Day morning when Reyes got back home, James handed him a gift to match the other bright drawings decorating his apartment: a newly drawn picture of the George Washington Bridge.

The back room of the Goddard Riverside Senior Center was decorated with hearts, pictures of cupids and streamers. There, a crowd of 150 people watched Feb. 14 as a woman tossed red rose petals from a wicker basket. Then, five couples with more than 200 years of marriage between them walked into the room to renew their vows.

Council Member Gale Brewer told the couples that while they had come from such diverse places as Russia, Venezuela, Ecuador and the Upper West Side, they have all ended up there out of appreciation for the community.

“It’s like a United Nations of marriage, commitment and love,” Brewer said.

The room was filled with family members, friends and members of the senior center on Valentine’s Day as Brewer read their vows. The couples, all members or volunteers of the center, pledged to keep walking hand in hand and the room celebrated with a toast of cider, dancing and 400 cupcakes donated by Magnolia Bakery.

“This was a little idea and you saw how big it became,” said Senior Services Director Doris Colón.

One couple was Leonid and Nelli Shulov, who met in Moscow in 1957 at the Festival of Youth and Students. They married 53 years ago and moved to the United States in 1993. Leonid, 78, is a former chemist and Nelli, 74, used to work as a geologist.
Nelli said their bond strengthened when they moved to New York and had to pick up a new language and culture together.

“It’s not very easy to change your life and start a new life,” she said.

Leonid spoke Russian and German and relied on Nelli’s English. But she trusts his knowledge of technology and computers.
“When we’re together, we can do much more than separately,” she said.

Louis and Norma Segarra, both deaf and one blind, met at the New York School for the Deaf and signed their vows on each other’s hands.

Another couple, Ana and Felix Campana, originally came from Ecuador and Venezuela. Ana, 74, volunteers at the center and made the stuffed hearts that hung from the ceiling. Felix, 86, said he didn’t expect such a large turnout.

Their daughter, Maria Teresa Campana, 30, said that while people she knew got divorced or fought, her parents always stuck together. Felix said one of the reasons for that is because they balanced each other out.
She translated for Felix, who spoke Spanish.

“He says he’s very active and now he’s ready to go dance and mingle,” she said.

But the Campbells, married for 61 years, were the longest-lasting couple there. George and Doris met ice-skating in a park in Queens when they were 15. When George offered to fix Doris’ skates, she refused. Still, their relationship bloomed.

When they moved into Goddard Tower on Amsterdam Avenue in 1967, they were some one of the first tenants.

“It was the Wild West when we moved here,” George said. “Empty lots, burned-up cars—it was unbelievable.”

Doris, a retired teacher, and George, a former salesman, had renewed their vows once before, on their 25th anniversary.
Doris said their secret to staying together is always doing things together and rarely being apart.

“And five children. That helps,” she added. “It keeps you busy.”

One of their kids, George, 47, watched from the front row. He said it was great to see all of the couples together.
“I just got engaged last week, so I’ll be saying my vows later in the year,” he said.

Though the rink in Queens where they met isn’t there anymore, the Campbells’ memories remain.

“You know, you can take pictures,” Doris said. “But the memories that you have are the best pictures in the world.”

- Dan Rosenblum