Up until 1972 this was a 2-family apartment. We lived upstairs here from 1968 until we bought the house on N. Lowell. It was a good location because Daddy was teaching 6th & 7th grades at Christ, which loomed large in our big picture window. The picture window was part of a story about me at the age of 3 which my maternal grandmother used to love to share. I was near the big window when I heard a blue jay. Excited, I ran to tell my mom, who flatly denied that I heard a jay. Blue jays don't live in the city. But I insisted. That was the summer Grandma Kopsell started teaching me birds, and Grandma was God as far as I was concerned, so I was dead confident. Mom and I argued for a short while, but only until she remembered that she was arguing with a 3-year-old. Mom gave up on what was clearly a pointless argument and looked up towards the picture window, which was precisely when she saw the biggest, bluest blue jay she'd ever seen in her life.