The manager of the Saguaro Apartments in 1979, Phoenix, Arizona
Time-travel with me back to 1979, when I had just moved into the Saguaro Apartments, at 4201 N. 9th Street, in Phoenix. Unlike most of the history adventuring that I do, this is drawn from my actual memory, which is kinda shaky, but I'll do the best that I can.
As I recall, his name was Bob. It may, or may not have been, and it's not really important nowadays, and it's probably best in these days of privacy, and not plastering someone's name all over the internet. So let's just call him Bob. I'm actually pretty sure that was his name.
He was an old guy, probably about the same age that I am today, when I moved in there at age 19. Whether he was 50, or 100, at age 19, I had no idea. Just an old guy. He drove a car that he called "Big Red" - one of those 1970s cars with a hood so long that it "arrived fifteen minutes before you did". A real 1970s "boat", and he loved it.
What Bob did before becoming a manager for a ratty little apartment complex in Phoenix, I have no idea. Presumably he was retired, and I suppose he talked about his life before then, but other than that he was from back east, I have no idea. He was a well-spoken man, I remember that. He often spoke of his wife, who would be joining him soon. Looking back now, I suppose that she was still working back east, and he spent the first few months living there without her. And I remember when she arrived, which made him very happy.
Bob had diabetes, and I recall him in a wheelchair, and then he was gone, and his wife took over. I moved out in 1980, and moved to Tempe to finish up my college education at ASU, and the Saguaro Apartments, and Bob and Mrs. Bob faded from my mind.
But I do remember going back many years later and she was still there. I suppose I had been living in California, and was visiting Phoenix for some reason. I just showed up and knocked on the door. She remembered me, and gave me a big hug, and called me "her big boy" (as if my graduating from college had someone made me taller, which it didn't). That must have been in the mid-1980s.
If this were an imaginary story, I could be more specific, and add more details, but this was just part of my life, in a tiny little corner of Phoenix, Arizona.
By the way, Bob taught me how to tie a tie! Thank you, Bob!
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Posted by Brad Hall