The women in my family never lived more than several miles away from each other. I was fortunate to be part of a strong matriarchy, my maternal grandmother being the head of this clan. And this clan was tight; nothing could separate us. So my grandmother and her sister Lil, having moved from Woods Run–a tiny forgotten Pittsburgh neighborhood situated along the Allegheny River–came to live in the Morrowfield Apartments on Murray Avenue.
The Morrowfield was one of the tallest buildings around. It towered over all the little stores that ran alongside each other on both sides of Murray Avenue. When I was a small child, just walking through those heavy glass doors into the lobby was enough of a change to create a sense of awe. (Since I love words, I’ve tried to find out where the name “Morrowfield” comes from and I’ve had no luck.)
Rows upon rows of doors, extending down dark hallways, seeming as if they would all go on forever; behind those doors was usually one large living room, one bedroom, and one kitchen. Added to those was what was called a “Murphy” bed–it pulled out out of the closet. To my childish eyes it was magical, a bed pulled out of the wall.
My grandmother lived in one of these with my two young aunts; my aunt Maxine got married and then my aunt Esther had the bedroom to herself. My grandmother slept on the magical Murphy bed–close quarters indeed.
However, what made the place truly wonderful was The Roof. Just like Alice in Alice In Wonderland, I walked down a very dark hallway, went through a door, and I was on the roof of the Morrowfield. Lots of ladies sat out there in the summer, and my cousin Maxine and I would play ball. I would never go to the edge and look down onto Murray Avenue–just thinking about it scared me, how it would be to fall from The Roof of the Morrowfield and crash onto Murray Avenue. I considered Maxine and myself very honored and special, to look down at Pittsburgh with the old ladies sitting around, telling stories.
However, there is one last thing I must add. My grandmother had a “regular” telephone with which she could call anybody she wanted. There was also a “house” phone that she used to call her sister and others in the Morrowfield. For reasons known only to children, that amazed me.
lgmwriting 