C-5

There’s a lot of talk about The Blizzard of ’78 right now. Each year around this time, people reminisce but this is especially the case this week because of the storm we are expecting in a few days. 

My parents were managers of Ledgewood Apartments at the time. They had been for years.  In fact, we lived there until the summer before when we moved to our house.  Before, during and after the storm, they, understandably, had to spend days on end dealing with “landlord-type” stuff at the apartments – plowing, shoveling, loss of power, etc.  Only being six at the time, I needed someplace to stay while they were busy working. 

Where did I stay?  Ledgewood Apartment C-5.  

That's it below.  Middle porch on the left.



Auntie Ellie’s. 

My Auntie Ellie passed away last year.  She was 94.  I had the incredible honor of delivering the eulogy at her funeral.  I am beyond words thankful to have been given the opportunity to share with our family and friends my thoughts on this amazing lady. Among the thoughts I shared, were my memories of Apartment C-5.

I spent a lot of time in that apartment with her over the years.  I think about it a lot.  It was really the “hub” of Ledgewood. There were 48 units and yet, everyone knew where the action was.  Apartment C-5.  It was where all the repair folks, delivery folks, perspective renters, and current renters (not to mention family and friends) knew they could go – for a laugh, a drink, some food, a hug, or big juicy kiss – whatever they needed.  There was always something cooking on the stove.  There was also always something in the oven.  And something on deck…in case more company showed up…It was truly amazing.

My most treasured memories of Apartment C-5 took place in a red recliner chair.  I often wonder what happened to that chair.  I would give anything to have it in our house now.  Auntie Ellie and I would spend hours sitting side by side in the chair.  She, in her snap up the front apron.  Me, with  my pageboy haircut and cords.  She’d say, “Push over.  I’m sooo fat!  My big behind can’t fit.”  She'd laugh, I’d giggle and push over as far as I could. To me, though, the more squooshed we were, the better.  We’d grab our songbook from her drawer and sing: “Five Foot Two”, “After the Ball”, “Take Me Out To The Ballgame”, "Side by Side", "Ain't She Sweet", "If You Knew Suzie".  We’d sing at the top of our lungs.  We didn’t care what we sounded like.  We thought we sounded amazing.  It was pure joy for both of us.  Pure. Simple. Joy.

Auntie Ellie gave me our songbook for Christmas in 1990.  On the note with it, she wrote, “Dear Kim, This was our special book.  It has such beautiful memories.  Love you.  Merry Christmas.  Love, Auntie Ellie.”  As I look at her handwriting, I can hear her voice and smell her perfume.

Our songbook and its note sit in my jewelry box.  I see them every day.  And I am reminded me of the love that I felt in Apartment C-5.  I am reminded of what I want to be like when I "grow up".