By Elouise (Ellie) DeAngelis, February 24, 2016 — I grew up on a small farm in Monroeville, NJ and attended the Friendship Methodist Church which was the focal point of our neighborhood back then. We had great Times and great neighbors. No one used a front door, just the kitchen door, and then if something special was going on you went on into the living room. Like most of the houses in that day, it was built shot-gun style.
Our back (kitchen) door was entered from the back shed and up one step. If you went into the living room, you went up another step. The living room had a side door which was about three feet from the ground, so probably would have been about three steps down, but there were no steps. So, that door was never used except in good weather when we kids would just jump up and down to play on the lawn, rather than going back through the kitchen and around the house.
My father was great at taking things apart but never putting them back together, so I can only guess that there were steps at one time which just deteriorated and were never replaced. Our house was sold and we moved, but when I occasionally passed my old home, I saw no one had ever replaced the steps.
Years went by, and one day I noticed an addition had been built on the side of the house. There was a door in the exact place as before, but no steps. Now why would anyone do that? Seemed so ridiculous.
Many, many years later I came to Pitman Manor to inquire about making this my home (until death do us part). As Pam and I were walking down the hall, I heard a young man talking to a friend of mine and he mentioned Friendship Church. My ears perked up and I went back to ask him about that. (Nosy, I know) The man turned out to be Tim Spencer, Cook, and we bonded, having Friendship Church in common. My entire family including my husband is buried in that cemetery. One day I asked Tim what road he lived on. Since it was the one I had lived on, I asked him to be more specific. Tim lives in my house.
I guess you know my next question was about the steps. Tim really laughed. It seems the addition was built before Tim and his wife moved there. There were steps, but they deteriorated so Tim hauled them away and just never replaced them as they never use that door. Mystery solved.
Tim and I have agreed that since I only lived in that house for thirteen years and he has been there for twenty-eight, that I lived in his house, rather than him living in mine. I can’t afford to antagonize the best cook in Pitman Manor.