By NICOLE HIGGINS DeSMET
This May, when James Connolly, a slim New York City native with a slight stoop and a shock of white hair, started life anew, he took the downtown E train, carrying bags of his clothes and all the history books he could fit.
He had said goodbye to a five-story walk-up on East 50th Street that put a terrible strain on his heart, to constant worries about how he was going to pay his rent and to notices from his landlord to get out.
Mr. Connolly, 71, known as Jay, used to work in telecommunications until the Internet changed the industry overnight and left him “a dinosaur,” he said. He retired in 2001, but found occasional acting work as an extra and volunteered at the Holy Family Shelter on East 47th Street.