WELCOME to 1977. More than 1,500 people will be murdered in New York City by the end of the year - five times the rate today. The city’s finances are on the brink, just two years after politicians narrowly staved off bankruptcy. The birth rate has flatlined. Soon, epoch-making events across the nation will change America forever like the turning of a kaleidoscope.

The first few days of January. On an East Village rooftop, a 22-year-old woman is robbed by a gang at knifepoint in her building lobby before being forced up onto the roof and ordered to strip in 18-degree weather. When her little dog tried to protect her, they threw it over the side to its death and warned “don’t scream or you’re next”. She was raped for more than two hours.

The rooftop attack story is made even more shocking by the fact that it wasn’t even big enough make the front page. Instead, mob families were at war - over whether to get into the drug trade or not. Spoiler: they did.

The city at this point is still so dangerous that 11th street - now a bougie boulevard that drips with money - is synonymous with crime. Locals have all-but given up on police, and formed an amped-up version of neighbourhood watch crew.

It’s hard to overstate how tough the East Village still was. Visiting Avenue A and you were considered ‘adventurous’, B = brave, C = crazy, and D = dead. The Post reported that one woman who ventured out of her apartment to break up a dog fight returned to her home seconds later to find an armed man already inside.

The hopelessness of the period could hardly be better underlined than this court case brought by a homeless alcoholic, against a hospital that was about to amputate his gangrenous legs to save his life. He argued he’d rather leave his limbs to rot, and die if he needed to. (He won, if you can call it that.)

Perhaps, the secret to dealing with NYC’s chaos was to embrace it. The owner of a Queens diner attacked 30 times by crooks ended up resigning himself to a life of dodging danger. He hung a sign above the bar saying: “I have been in this business a long time. I have been cussed and discussed, boycotted, talked about, lied about, lied to, hung up, held up and robber. The only reason I am staying in business now is to see what the hell is going to happen next.”

The media scene was in chaos too. 1977 was the first full year of Rupert Murdoch’s ownership of the New York Post, heralding the start of the tabloid wars. The New York establishment was appalled by the insurgence of the blunt Aussie, and he was compared to King Kong terrifying the city after snapping up the Post and New York magazine.

But the back of the newspapers were almost as interesting as the big news up front. One of the unlikeliest fashion plays of the 1970s - a decade known for bellbottoms, hot pants and leather jackets - was a McDonalds announcement that it was releasing an entire fashion range. 45 outfits ranging from sportswear tops and jeans to jumpsuits.

It was, perhaps, a step too far for Donald Smith, a senior Vice President at the fast food chain. He quit to become president of Burger King.

Over in the small ads, there’s a veritable goldmine of fascination. You know all of those embarrassing sex questions you now just type into Google? Back then you had to send away for a pamphlet with the answers.

The ‘free marriage manual’ promised to answer questions ranging from “how can overweight be turned to advantage in bed?” to: “how fast do sperm travel?” Although one suspects that the type of person who’d need to order such a book wouldn’t need to worry about the question: “What’s the maximum number of times a woman can have an orgasm?” More examples below:

And how do toiletry brands tempt men of style in the 1970s? A soap on a rope…

Crazy week? Not as wild as the rest of the year. One of the most pivotal of the latter-half of the century.

1977 is about to unfold at breakneck speed, changing the face of the country forever; Carter becomes president, Elvis dies, Apple is founded, Star Wars is released, the infamous New York blackout occurs, the MKULTRA program is exposed, the Son of Sam killer is caught, and Concorde takes off…