378 Broadway in Cambridge, Massachusetts from 1960 to early in 1962. It was a two-family frame house in which the second floor had been turned into two apartments. We were in one of them, a bedroom, a living room with a kitchen and a detached bathroom down the hall. Perfectly fine for a newlywed graduate student. The newlywed neighbors, Adi and Rutty, are still friends; their daughter, Zerlina, born in April of 1961, was the first child I held in my arms (as an adult). But there was a conflict with the puritanical small-town Irish Catholic landlady because we had allowed a friend to stay in the apartment while we were away "and he brought a woman in." So we moved to a university-owned apartment house on Irving Street, between Cambridge and Kirkland, despite the fact that it raised our rent from $90 a month to $105. We bought a second or third or fourth hand bed for $25 and a rug for $10. It was a serviceable apartment that seemed like luxury after the decrepit Ithaca digs. We stayed until the summer of 1965 when we lit out for Manhattan.
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