Summit Hill

Perched on a cot in a hospital room overlooking the Cathedral, Patricia Hampl sits holding her mother’s hand through her last night of life. Balancing a pad of paper on her lap and scrawling notes (the start of an obituary), the author holds the hand that has crushed out countless cigarettes in saucers on the kitchen table, punctuating stories of the soirées decorated by her husband Stan, the florist. Sitting in the dark beside her mother, the florist’s daughter opens and closes her solemn gift of a memoir. MORE »

Begin your tour at 481 Laurel, between Mackubin and Arundel. Notice the twin buildings. The builder called them San Mateo Flats. F. Scott Fitzgerald was born at home in 1896 in the left building. Sadly, his two sisters, ages one and three, had died from influenza shortly before his birth. Probably because of this, his mother Mollie McQuillan became overly protective of Scott. The family lived here for another year, but then Scott’s father, Edward, lost his job as a wicker furniture salesman. He moved the family to New York, where a daughter, Annabelle, was born. Imagine this neighborhood without electric lights. Some houses were not electrified until 1911. Imagine groceries, coal and ice being delivered by horse and wagon. MORE »

Chocolate goosebumps. Sounds like the fanciful premise for a children’s book, but I actually saw them popping up on the arms of my companion as we dug into our slice of deep chocolate cake at St. Paul’s Café Latte. MORE »

As children arrived in small groups at the back door of a majestic temple-like building on St. Paul’s Victoria Street, there were some subtle indications that this was an unusually creative crowd. One youngster sported a crisp fedora, and another walked in laughing about the fact that she’d unwittingly coupled her school letter jacket with a pair of fuzzy slippers. MORE »