Monday September 17th
I am up at the crack of dawn for no good reason. I can’t sleep so I squeeze the air out of the air mattress and fold it into the carry case. One of my teaching colleagues, who’s also a neighbor is slated to pick it up before he heads to his 8am class. I put on my work clothes for the last time without showering and put out the trash.
I toss out all the bedding, work clothes, and anything that doesn’t go in my suitcase or carry-ons. All that’s left in my clothing closet are the clothes I will wear for my last day of teaching.
I go through all the rooms making sure that everything has been cleared for the new owner. I shower and change into my teaching clothes. Make and eat breakfast for the last time in this house sitting in the last chair, a beach chair, in the dining room. The doorbell rings.
It’s a workman from Philadelphia Gas Works whose come to shut off the gas for the first floor office. The Gas company didn’t get the message right that he was supposed to come on Tuesday afternoon not Monday morning. The lockbox code was delivered to him because he stands at my door with all the keys from the box in hand. I let him in and he shuts off the gas. I put the last of the trash out in front of the house.
I gather my suitcase, carry-ons, a mailing tube, and the air mattress – G.’s schedule ended up precluding him from stopping over before class – and call a Lyft. It arrives and I head to the hotel I’m staying for the night. Doubt I can get in the room since it’s ten in the morning but I need to leave this house for the last time now. There’s nothing left except for empty walls and ghosts.
The Marriott checks me into my room. Wow! I dump my bags and head to the post office with the mailing tube. Have a poster I need to send a friend that I’d found by accident that was used to advertise the Mink DeVille reunion concert in which he played as a member of the original band.
I walk over to The Art Institute and teach my afternoon class. They show their work and I turn in their grades. The closing is at 4. I’ve finished early so I walk in a drizzle to a building on Washington Square where the closing will be held.
I walk past the park and look at the street lamps. My father was the contractor who installed them. It was the biggest contract his small business ever won. He might have kept the business going and made it a big success but my mother — I’m guessing here — pushed him to find full time employment and a steadier paycheck given that he had four of us to support.
For the rest of his life, he always pointed to his participation in Washington Square park, site of the American Revolutionary War’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, with pride. It connected him to his adopted country and made him feel that in addition to his military service he had made a lasting contribution to the cause for freedom. He was someone who knew firsthand from growing up in Berlin in the 1920s and 30s what it meant to have your freedom curtailed and connections to a place and culture abruptly severed.
The closing consists of waiting around for the buyer’s funds to arrive and then signing some papers. An hour later we’re done. I’ve turned over the keys. The house is in a new Robert’s hands. I put the check from the sale in my bag and grab a Lyft to go deposit the funds before I have to teach my evening class.
The evening class shows its work and I wish them well and goodbye. Nearly all of them will graduate this quarter or next. The ones slated to graduate next quarter I remind to stay on track because after next quarter there will be no The Art Institute of Philadelphia. The school is closing for good at the end of the year due to corporate malfeasance, greed, and incompetency.
I walk over to the Sansom Street Oyster House for my last dinner in Philadelphia. I arrive and sit at the bar in the mostly empty restaurant. The skies open up and it rains buckets. I watch the rain and eat in silence. The rain stops. The streets are shoot perfect – wet, glistening, and reflective. I wish I brought my camera because a cell phone camera can’t capture the beauty of this scene.
My hotel room faces City Hall with its statue of William Penn that once stood taller than all the other buildings in Center City. Now Comcast rules the skyline. It’s a fitting end for my last night in Philadelphia.
