How the Holy Ghost Hospital for Incurables ate Magnolia Avenue
This one bugged me enough to set off an entire inquiry.
In 1970, I shared an apartment in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with eight other young people. I was the only one who had my own room. I was 17, working two jobs, a regular day gig in an office and a night shift in a restaurant, where I also ate and socialized. I also had a girlfriend who was a senior in college and a car I bought for $100. Rent on the place was $40 a month. I was king of the world.
I remembered the address as 24 1/2 Magnolia Ave. I loved the idea of having a half address. Like what even is that? One of my good pals, Jim Wrathall, who also lived there, was reminiscing about it the other day and dropped the number 25 1/2. I was shocked. Had my memory failed me that badly? I really wanted to settle that number. I looked around. I could find no address book with it, nor any letters from anyone with it on the envelope, and no one among the people I knew then who are still around who could remember it (other than Jim). I had a feeling he was right, but wanted to track it down.
Now, here’s the thing. That address no longer exists. The block in mid-Cambridge that Magnolia was on is mostly occupied today by Cambridge City Hospital, which has been expanding over the years…
