Yesterday and the day before we visited my two older brothers and their female partners in Jamaica Plain. I decided to cap off the journey with a quick trip to the dump I lived with a variety of mysterious and bewildered souls in 1982-'83. Before we went east my brothers advised me that the neighborhood had vastly improved since my day.
Still I drove up to 84 Sheridan Street not at all sure that it would still be standing. It had been just such a sketchy rat-infested piece of crap.
I was shocked to see the bay windows, the landscaping and the paint job. Someone had seen something in what one of my housemates called the Mickey Mouse House, put something into so it no longer qualifies for the Pantheon of Disgrace. I had such mixed feelings, mostly disbelief. Still, I don't begrudge the residents for having a nice place to live.
Below the house we have a picture of thr approximate spot I was jumped at about 10 p.m June 12, 1982. I slept with the lights on for three days after that.
My bedroom looked out the upper-right top-floor window.