The Souvenir

Way back in late May, I showed up at 841 N. Maplewood on the day the students were to vacate the house. The front door was open and my husband, son, and I walked right in. I wandered around the house in an indignant state. I called Ken Goldin at Bradley to apprise him of the situation.

“Anyone could walk in here,” I said. “What if someone vandalizes the house?”

Now, you really are kind of a case when you’re concerned that a house that has an imminent date with a wrecking ball will be vandalized. But Ken was patient and told me that he would send Bradley security over to lock up the house.

I had another question for Mr. Goldin. “Would it be possible for me to take something from the house?” Again, more patience from Ken as he explained to me that Bradley had contracted with salvagers who would strip the house of things could be recycled.

“What is it that you want?”

I hesitated knowing that it would sound strange but in keeping with the whole tenor of the call, I said, “The front door door knob.”

Almost all of the door knobs in the house, including the one I wanted, were made of cut glass. This one had special significance. In the later years that we lived in the house, the door knob would simply not stay on. Often when we went to open the door, it would come off in our hands. When an unsuspecting guest was leaving and this would happen, my dad would pretend that they broke it. It was the set up for a never ending joke.

“Maria, your family lived there long enough. If you want the door knob, you can take it.”

So I did.