Yes, I recall that vividly, and yes I visited Jim in three of his NYC apartments on many occasions.
His stuff wasn’t being chucked into a dumpster, although that could easily have happened. What did happen was bad but in the end it saved Jim’s archive.
Rosemary had hired a cleaning woman to clean out the apartment—which was an unpleasant surprise to me because I was expecting to make several more trips there to sort and organize the contents. (I had made one trip up there with Rosemary and Lenny Kaye and we filled up the back of the small SUV with mostly books.) Anyway, the cleaning woman knew who Jim was. She had gathered up everything, photographed it, and put the photos on the internet, and she was planning some kind of exhibit when I found out about it. Freaked out, I contacted Rosemary, who immediately put a stop to all that and embarked on the process of finding a home for Jim’s archive. It is now held at the New York Public Library.
Cassie