Hi Bill
I hope this letter finds you and your family well and happy.
Previously, I wrote about my experiences while working for DPA in Philadelphia
during the ‘70s. That got me remembering the west Philadelphia neighborhood
that Pat and I lived in for two years during that time.
I didn’t have much money when I first moved to Philly and
that made it difficult for me to find a nice apartment in “The City of
Brotherly Love.” I also needed to find one quickly. Luckily an apartment
materialized on Chester Avenue on a subway-surface trolley route just before
the tracks snaked underground, which was convenient for me to get to work and
back. It was located in a very old diverse neighborhood with large aging
dirty-brick apartment buildings that reached 4 or 5 floors with no elevators.
I saw an ad for one of those apartment buildings and went to
their “office” where I met the owner, who turned out to be a rather eccentric
young man. I couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a robe and slippers,
and that his office contained a bed. In addition, lots of women seemed to adorn
the room, and they also seemed to adorn him at times. Hey, I guess pimps can
save enough money to buy up old apartment buildings! It was the carefree narcissistic
early 1970s. The price was right and he wouldn’t be visiting my apartment with
his robe and women.
I rented a small (actually tiny), third-floor, sparsely-furnished,
one-bedroom apartment from the social-climbing pimp wannabe Hugh Hefner. Needless
to say, the apartment lacked elegance. When you opened the door the tiny
bathroom was only a few feet straight ahead. To the left was a small living
room with an ugly sofa. Behind the living room, through an arched wall opening
was a cramped kitchen with an aging gas stove, beat-up refrigerator, and a small
table and two chairs. To the left of the refrigerator was a doorway (lacking a door)
that led to the bedroom with a double bed. In addition, the refrigerator cord had
to be plugged into an outlet in the bedroom. There was no other furniture and no
closets anywhere in the place. In addition, the apartment was not air
conditioned and it was very hot during the summers. I was living in the lap of
luxury! I lived alone so it was no problem.
However, within a couple of months I could not live without
the love of my life, who I had left in Pittsburgh. Therefore I journeyed to
Pittsburgh to visit Pat and we got married about a month later. She was not enamored
with my apartment. Even the psychedelic flower wallpaper in the bathroom did
not appeal to her. Our kitchen window was very close to the apartment building
next to ours and we could see into many of the windows of the building, which
was often interesting. In addition, every morning an older gentleman in an open
window directly across from us would repeatedly cough his lung out. He was a
treat to wake up to. Pat’s negative opinion was solidified when a mouse popped
out of the back burner of the stove one day and she smacked it with a spatula.
In fact it was a struggle for two of us to live in that apartment, and
eventually we were able to switch to a much larger one-bedroom, with a balcony
facing the front of the building. Otherwise, our marriage would probably have
crumbled.
That neighborhood was also very interesting. We were one
block from Clark Park, which provided a small grassy area during the daytime
but had to be avoided at night. Unfortunately, crime was a factor in the entire
area, but we were city people and learned to deal with it. Parking was only
along the streets and cars were often vandalized, including ours. Virtually all
of the ground-level businesses had bars or pull-down metal locking grates on
the windows and doors. Burglaries and robberies were prevalent and we had to
learn to deal with those problems. Surprisingly, we were attacked by a small
pack of dogs late one night while walking from our car to the apartment
building. I had to kick the hell out of them to chase them away, but that could
have ended differently.
There were a few “Mom and Pop” variety stores and
restaurants in the neighborhood that were convenient for us. In addition, there
was a very interesting pizza shop that made fantastic pizza and we often
patronized it. All of the employees were Italian who did not speak English as
far as we could determine. In addition, previous employees kept disappearing
and new employees kept appearing from one visit to the next. The really amazing
thing about that pizza shop was that it had no bars or metal windows/door
coverings like all the other businesses, but it was never victimized by crime,
i.e., no robberies, burglaries, broken windows, etc. Now how would you explain
that?
We also had some interesting friendly acquaintances in the
apartment building and in the neighborhood. One unforgettable character lived
in another building near ours, but we would often see him walking his enormous
Great Dane. We figured him to be a pimp, but he was always very friendly and we
talked to him and petted the Dane frequently. Strange friends in strange places
are amazing.
Bill, I think I drove you through the neighborhood and past
our apartment building one time and you questioned our sanity. However, we
survived that apartment building and neighborhood for two years and then moved
out of the inner city.
Thinking back, Pat and I would not want to change any
our experiences in that neighborhood. They broadened our knowledge of life and
our compassion for others and enhanced our relationship. However, I don’t think
I’d like living in a similar neighborhood these days.
Sincerely Clark
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