area was full of Canadians at that point, all coming down to Boston to find work. But it was also filling with many single men. Many back from the war, living alone in these tenement houses that had sprung up on the busier streets. We didn’t know it at the time, but it was really the beginning of the gay community moving in. They couldn’t be as open back then you know, and the tenements offered a good way for them to blend into the community. There were jazz bars everywhere and on a summer evening we would go up to the rooftop to catch a breeze and listen to the jazz music from the bars with their doors propped open floating on the evening air. It was magical really.
“My grandmother – Cate was her name – was living there with my grandfather Bill. He had just retired and was home with us all summer. My great grandmother was still living although she was quite old and they had her set up in the first floor apartment. She had a caretaker that lived there with them. And my aunt Margaret, who had never married, lived there, too. It made sense, I guess, for the apartments because they were all getting older and they figured they could eventually take in boarders. But for that summer they got us.”
Sarah had been mesmerized, thinking she must have heard this story before but had never felt as connected to it as she did now living in Boston. The upcoming project will be exciting and will give her a chance to learn more about the city. Maybe her grandmother could even help?
“So Grandma, what happened to the woman that was bothering your father?”
“Oh, she disappeared finally. Probably because we moved. My grandmother didn’t want us to go, naturally, and I wanted to stay with them but couldn’t imagine not being with my parents so I was torn. My friends were all there, like Henry, Betty and Lucy but we all wrote endless letter to each other to stay in touch.”
“The time before mobile phones and Facebook,” Marissa chimed in and Sarah laughed.
“That’s right Marissa, but you young folk will never understand the joy of getting a letter in the post. Savoring it, reading the letter over and over again. We told each other our deepest thoughts and learned to express ourselves, not like the broken English and misspelled words your kids use as correspondences.” She chastised good naturedly.
Marissa and Paul were laughing but Sarah was nodding, “You’re right grandma, we have a whole generation missing out. I still like writing letters although I don’t do it as much as I would like, but I still handwrite thank you notes.”
Rose looked at her granddaughter with a gentle smile and love in her eyes, “That’s because you are my old soul. I always told you that.” She patted Sarah’s hand with her papery soft, wrinkled one. She looked back at the others around the table and took a deep breath to continue.
“Anyway, about the dragon lady as mother called her. There was one day the woman was walking down our street and after happening across my mother on the front steps, tried to be nice. My mother started yelling and told her to go away once and for all and my grandmother hearing the ruckus came outside." Again, she paused, taking a sip of the coffee, her eyes still clouded and faraway.
"I had been walking up the street with friends and it was the first time I saw her. The woman was all dressed up in a charcoal gray suit with a smart, stylish hat. She looked like a starlet. My grandmother came out the front door, standing at the top of the stairs she took one look at the woman and called her a witch.”
Rose laughed at the memory. Marisa and Sarah looked at each other across the table, grinning at the old story and wondering if Grandma Rose might have gotten it wrong and her nice old fashioned grandmother actually swore.
“Well, we left a short time later. I had finished school and when I arrived in Connecticut I went on to secretarial school and got a job in Hartford where I met your grandfather
“My grandmother – Cate was her name – was living there with my grandfather Bill. He had just retired and was home with us all summer. My great grandmother was still living although she was quite old and they had her set up in the first floor apartment. She had a caretaker that lived there with them. And my aunt Margaret, who had never married, lived there, too. It made sense, I guess, for the apartments because they were all getting older and they figured they could eventually take in boarders. But for that summer they got us.”
Sarah had been mesmerized, thinking she must have heard this story before but had never felt as connected to it as she did now living in Boston. The upcoming project will be exciting and will give her a chance to learn more about the city. Maybe her grandmother could even help?
“So Grandma, what happened to the woman that was bothering your father?”
“Oh, she disappeared finally. Probably because we moved. My grandmother didn’t want us to go, naturally, and I wanted to stay with them but couldn’t imagine not being with my parents so I was torn. My friends were all there, like Henry, Betty and Lucy but we all wrote endless letter to each other to stay in touch.”
“The time before mobile phones and Facebook,” Marissa chimed in and Sarah laughed.
“That’s right Marissa, but you young folk will never understand the joy of getting a letter in the post. Savoring it, reading the letter over and over again. We told each other our deepest thoughts and learned to express ourselves, not like the broken English and misspelled words your kids use as correspondences.” She chastised good naturedly.
Marissa and Paul were laughing but Sarah was nodding, “You’re right grandma, we have a whole generation missing out. I still like writing letters although I don’t do it as much as I would like, but I still handwrite thank you notes.”
Rose looked at her granddaughter with a gentle smile and love in her eyes, “That’s because you are my old soul. I always told you that.” She patted Sarah’s hand with her papery soft, wrinkled one. She looked back at the others around the table and took a deep breath to continue.
“Anyway, about the dragon lady as mother called her. There was one day the woman was walking down our street and after happening across my mother on the front steps, tried to be nice. My mother started yelling and told her to go away once and for all and my grandmother hearing the ruckus came outside." Again, she paused, taking a sip of the coffee, her eyes still clouded and faraway.
"I had been walking up the street with friends and it was the first time I saw her. The woman was all dressed up in a charcoal gray suit with a smart, stylish hat. She looked like a starlet. My grandmother came out the front door, standing at the top of the stairs she took one look at the woman and called her a witch.”
Rose laughed at the memory. Marisa and Sarah looked at each other across the table, grinning at the old story and wondering if Grandma Rose might have gotten it wrong and her nice old fashioned grandmother actually swore.
“Well, we left a short time later. I had finished school and when I arrived in Connecticut I went on to secretarial school and got a job in Hartford where I met your grandfather
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