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Finally found the postcard of our front door (see June 25). (Does this mean I can stop searching'n'cleaning?) Our super, Jeff, made the sign. I still am astonished that it worked. That was pretty much his entire success as super. 


Jeff, not yet 60, is now living in a nursing home in Maine, his memory destroyed, I assume from HIV. The last time I spoke with him he didn't know who I was or any of our mutual friends. Several others have died & I think only Maggie & I still live in the Pound from those days. 

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