My Grandma, Hester Pauge, had been mugged while delivering Avon. She lived on Hebert Street in North St. Louis City, and while all her white neighbors had been fleeing the area in record numbers, she stayed. Her actions matched her words; she didn’t really care about the color of someone’s skin. Everyone was good to her. Except the muggers. And then it turns out this was not the first time she’d been jumped. It was actually the third time.
With that revelation, strings were pulled so Grandma could move into the Little Sisters of the Poor. Her new place of residence was certainly fun… ceramics, and snack machines and elevators, but I’d look out the window of her 7th-story room, and survey the dying neighborhoods below me, and try to spot her old house. Since I couldn’t see it from up on high, Mom drove me by her former house one last time, as the Bee Gees played on the radio.
See and hear the song.
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