During his early days in Montclair, Mr. McBride was unnerved by the quiet. “The windows were open and Christian leaned out and said, ‘If I have to listen to any more chirping birds …,’” Ms. Walker recalled with a laugh. “He said: ‘I need. I need sirens. I need people screaming.’”
No more.
“All those years I lived in New York, I was on the road for weeks upon weeks, and when I came back, the first thing I wanted to do was go out and hang in the Village,” Mr. McBride said, sitting in the back garden among the roses planted by Ms. Walker. “I was going to clubs. I was going uptown to Harlem to hang out and just immerse myself in the rhythm of the city. I didn’t spend a lot of time at home.”
A man and woman take a portrait in a garden. They are coordinated in purple and lavender tops.
