Each Sunday the Boston Globe Ideas section has a 50 word story about Boston. After reading one recently, I remembered a story that took place in Boston. The Boston Globe liked it, published it and here it is: link: http://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2016/11/12/words/F8VEZWNAveRXE0cv32G5JI/story.html
There is, of course, more to the story. I really was 15 and the copy really didn’t care if I had a license or not, he wanted the care moved. I had driven before, but never in the city. As I creeped around the block I looked up and saw stained glass windows, but didn’t see any of the iron bars. When I told my father that we drove by a church, he had a confused look on his face. I pointed to the building and he laughed, it was the Charles Street Jail. In those days, it did have stained glass windows.
Once we moved and parked the car, we went inside to visit. My grandmother had had a bleeding lung incident, which they had cleaned up before they let my sister and I visit. The young nurse provided quite a graphic description of what had happened. I’m sure I must have turned white because even now remembering this description makes me squeamish. Then she told us that John Wayne was a patient. My sister only remembers the John Wayne part, and the fact that I though the jail was a church.