Hours later, in the shadows of a quiet block nearby, a woman dressed in black-and-white animal-print pants stumbled over a curb as she entered a building. Standing in front of the Wang Theatre, a group of men tried to talk to women as they strolled by. Last call at the bars neared, and police awaited the final exodus of nightclub patrons.

At the corner of Tremont and Oak streets, small children climbed on a jungle gym under an autumn sun. Further up the block, a man and woman pushed strollers past, a toddler skipping by their side. A block away, college students with bulging backpacks scurried into a Panera Bread, while workers in blue scrubs hustled toward Tufts Medical Center.


It was a typical Friday in the Theatre District, an eclectic Boston neighborhood like no other in the city, one that changes shape as the hours pass. The students and lunching suburbanites of the daytime hours give way to theater aficionados and tourists in the evening, and partygoers and the downtrodden at night. In the transitions, groups of vastly different social and economic backgrounds blend, transforming the neighborhood that borders Boston Common, Downtown Crossing, and Chinatown.

“At any one time you see people of any age and background going there, living there, and genuinely enjoying what’s going on in that particular area,” said City Councilor Bill Linehan , whose district includes the neighborhood. “It’s somewhat uniquely Boston . . . everything merges right there.”

Decades ago, the neighborhood was run down, and bordered the seedy Combat Zone, the city’s red-light district where strip clubs, prostitution, and crime flourished. But in the late 1970s, Mayor Kevin H. White sought to revitalize the neighborhood. The Shubert Theatre’s interior was renovated, better street lighting was installed, and sidewalks were improved. The state Transportation Building and a pedestrian mall — lined with shops and restaurants and linking Boylston and Stuart streets — were constructed.


In the late 1990s, entrepreneurs restored the theaters. Then Emerson College moved into the neighborhood, bringing a 600-bed dormitory and a $14 million restoration of the Cutler Majestic Theatre.

In the last decade, the neighborhood continued to evolve. The lavish W Boston Hotel and Residences opened its doors on the corner of Stuart and Tremont streets, followed by a 29-story luxury apartment tower.

Boston Police Captain Robert Ciccolo checked on a man passed out on in the Theatre District in Boston. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff

Although flagrant prostitution and drug dealing have largely been pushed out by the new development, spurts of violence — such as the early-morning stabbing of seven people outside of a nightclub three weeks ago — occasionally still erupt.

Patrick Dillon, 43, a longtime parking enforcement officer, stood under the marquee of the Wang Theatre shortly before noon on a recent Friday and reflected on the changes.

“It was an area you didn’t want to frequent after a certain hour,” Dillon recalled as he stared down the block. “You’d come out and you’d go home.”

Now, during lunch hour, students with open laptops packed into Emerson’s Cafe on Boylston Street. At P.F. Chang’s on Stuart Street, nearly two dozen men in business attire sat around a table and leaned in for a group photo.

On Tremont Street, passersby stopped at the sound of twinkling piano keys as Linda Sheehan, a Department of Transportation employee on her lunch break, played “It’s Been a Long, Long, Time,” a 1945 classic.

“It was famous for welcoming the servicemen,” said Sheehan, 59, taking a pause from playing the public piano — part of an art installation — in front of the Wang.


Two blocks away on Boylston Street, in front of the China Trade Center, artist Wen-ti Tsen set up an outdoor exhibit of life-size historic portraits of Chinatown residents.

On the opposite side of the street at St. Francis House, the largest daytime homeless shelter in the state, an afternoon brawl broke out and a woman was knocked to the ground.

Five hours later, nightfall ushered in a new wave of people coming for dinner or a theater performance.

A light rain fell through the evening, but it did not put a damper on Robert Lowe’s plans for his girlfriend’s first trip to Boston.

Lowe, 31, had traveled 45 minutes from Nashua with Jessica Spaulding, 25, who was visiting from Wilmington, Del., for a date night to see the Blue Man Group. Before the show, the couple waited at a lounge inside the Charles Playhouse, a small theater tucked away on Warrenton Street.

Further down Tremont Street, students, tourists, and locals gathered at The Tam, a popular dive bar known for its cheap beer.

“Hey, ladies! The usual?” bar manager Lyn Grande, 59, asked two patrons. Grande has worked in the Theatre District since 1985.

Adam Cox, Karl Ward, and Colt Reid enjoyed a meal at New York Pizza on Tremont Street. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff

“We have a lot of nice places, a lot of people who come around now who probably wouldn’t have years ago,” said Grande. That list includes pop star Justin Bieber, spotted at The Tam last summer.


Seated at high tables, Emerson College students chatted over blaring music, throwing back shots of tequila.

“The Tam is my favorite place in the world,” said Jenna Montefiore, 21, a senior studying film production. “I always meet random people who are traveling from around the world.”

As midnight crept closer, men trickled into the Theatre District’s two remaining strip clubs.

The stabbing of seven people three weeks earlier after a fight in front of the Candibar and Royale nightclubs on Tremont Street did not seem to deter late-night clubgoers on this night. Women wearing tight dresses and high heels and men in slacks and button-up shirts waited in line to get in. As patrons flooded the clubs and bars, the calm of the afternoon and early evening was gone.

Two officers patrolled the sidewalk while bouncers checked IDs at the club doors.

Diana Pelletier, who had come from Marlborough with her sister and two friends, was in search of a place to celebrate her 35th birthday.

“I have two little kids. I don’t get out much,” she said. “I just want to dance. I don’t care about anything else but good music and dancing.”

The crowds were too much for Raymond Lam, 55, who moved to Boston from Hong Kong 20 years ago. Lam, a delivery driver at Genki Ya, a sushi restaurant on Tremont Street, surveyed the masses. “It’s very bad,” he said. “There’s too many people.”

But for Paul, a 45-year-old homeless man known as “Cowboy,” big crowds mean more money. He paced in front of Candibar, clutching a white styrofoam cup. Some ignored him, while others dug into their pockets for change.


One man gave him leftovers: a ribeye steak and a baked potato from Ruth’s Chris Steak House. Cowboy crouched down in a corner near a convenience store and vigorously dug in.

A couple passed the Paramount Theatre and the Boston Opera House on Washington Street. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff

Before the bars and clubs were set to close, police officers descended. By 1:30 a.m. the streets were closed to traffic as officers waited for the unpredictable.

Over the past decade, police have cracked down on drug dealing, violent crime, and prostitution in the area. But the violent incidents, while less frequent, still occur.

In 2002, shortly before 2 a.m. a South Boston man was fatally stabbed by a group of men after leaving the Caprice Restaurant and Lounge on Tremont Street, where he worked as a host. In 2006, Samuel Shapiro, a Boston Ballet dancer who had just walked his girlfriend home, was hit in the stomach by a stray bullet after 2 a.m., hours after performing. In 2012, former New England Patriots tight end Aaron Hernandez allegedly shot and killed two men after a chance encounter at a Theater District bar, and 22-year-old Army veteran Stephen Perez was shot to death after a fight in a Tremont Street parking lot.

“The music changes, but young people behaving badly doesn’t change,” said Boston police Captain Robert Ciccolo.

As clubs released hordes of people into the streets at 2 a.m., police rushed to break up a fight between two men in front of the W Hotel. On the corner of Stuart and Tremont streets, a man and a woman swayed in the cool night air, their eyes barely open. They tumbled into the street, then were helped to their feet by strangers. In an apparent drunken stupor, the woman leaned against the hotel while her companion hovered. Police called an ambulance.

“We’re not here to lock anyone up if we can avoid it,” Ciccolo said. “We want to make sure they get home safely.”

As EMTs tended to the woman, one yelled at the man to get away.

“We may have just prevented a rape,” Ciccolo said after learning the woman did not know the man.

At 2:33 a.m., as the crowds began to dissipate, a man alerted Ciccolo to a person lying face down on a metal grate in a dark corner beside the Wilbur Theatre, a block away from the jungle gym where children had played earlier that day. Ciccolo tried to wake the man up. When he didn’t respond, police called for another ambulance.

Doorman Orman Beckles "Orman the Doorman" encouraged club-goers to move on as they depart the Royale and Candibar nightclubs. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff

Jan Ransom can be reached at jan.ransom@globe.com.