mcurtt

2023-04_April-TLP_Finding-Me_Home_3_left

2023-04_April-TLP_Finding-Me_Home_3_left
mcurtt, Apr 16, 2023
Description:
A Whimsical Adventure - Periwinkle Poetry
Lynne-Marie - RSVP
Becca Bonneville - Feels Like Home

Journaling reads:

1973 - 1976

1236 3rd Avenue, Apt 2E, Rockford, Illinois - In the summer of 1973, when John had enough of university life, we decided on the big move. John, being 4 years older than me, had already graduated and was hanging around because of me. I would leave after two years of schooling to be with my love. We settled on Rockford, close enough to his family and not anywhere near the frenetic lifestyle we would lead in Chicago. I was so done with that, and John was a country boy at heart.

He found us an apartment, dirt cheap. It was a six flat red brick building, three apartments on either side. Totally run-down, but at one-time it would have been beautiful. Shortly after we moved in, the manager was asked to spray-paint the mailboxes, and she never took down them down, so we were blessed with white paint on that dark red brick. Sigh.

Speaking of paint, we asked the landlord (Fern Dodge) if we could paint the walls and molding to freshen up the place. Instead of being rejected, we were told that we had her permission. I’m sure she was thrilled that she did not have to pay for any of the paint. At least we could cover up the filth and memories of the past tenants.

The apartment was SO CLOSE to my employment, SwedishAmerican. Whenever there was a snowstorm, everyone relied on me since it was just a several minute walk away. Considering I wasn’t a driver, this was a definite benefit.

It was in the inner city, and we had shotguns being fired off the upper back deck, just above us. Having police cars show up at the building was a common occurrence.

I recall one Saturday morning there was water pouring down in the bathroom from above. We went upstairs to ask them to check their faucets. We were greeted by a little 2 - 3 year old, in the nude, telling us that mommy was “with someone”. Oh yes, I suspect she was a prostitute.

Speaking of our upstairs neighbor, one evening we were at home, enjoying our dinner. There was a knock at the door. John answered and a young male began pushing John to get into the apartment. John yelled, I ran to his rescue. As soon as the intruder saw me, he backed off, apologized. He had thought it was his “girlfriend’s” apartment when in fact, he was looking for the flat upstairs on the third floor.

And then there was the time we were sitting on our sofa and I noticed crumbs on it. I got angry with John, figured he had carelessly ate pretzels or something and left behind a mess. He swore it wasn't him, and we both looked up. OMG! The joists in the ceiling had splintered the plaster and “stuff” was raining down. We immediately contacted our landlord, and instead of ensuring that all was structurally sound, they installed a false ceiling to cover the fracture.

But we had enough. In 1976, as soon as we had money for a down-payment, we began looking for a home to get away from the madness.
    • flowersgal
      I had to laugh when reading your description of this place. Sounds a bit like where we lived when we were first married in Washington, D.C. To make matters worse, Jim was in the navy and had "duty" 7 nights a month so I was alone in a city where I knew no one except those I worked with. Glad we can look back on those times a laugh a bit. I'm enjoying taking the journey with you through the places you and John have lived since your marriage.
      Apr 16, 2023
      mcurtt likes this.
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