Photo of someone typing.
credit: © User:Colin / Wikimedia Commons / CC-BY-SA-4.0

I had come back to Washington, DC. I had come under sad circumstances. My Aunt passed away, and I was grieving. I lived in a rooming house on University Place. The owner said that I would have to move, he didn’t want to see me grieve. I moved around the corner to Fairmont Street. A week later a young man called me on the telephone, asking to come and see me. We met and ever since then he always came to visit me. My table was at the window and I was trying to get practice my typing. At the time I was doing temp work as a legal and medical secretary just returning from the army. We had talk about my problems and how my Aunt died. He gave me the courage to go on with my life. When the rent was due and I needed money again, he suggested that we started a typing service for the Howard University students. He brought friends over from Howard for me to type for them. Eventually I started going to other schools in the area like Georgetown, John Hopkins and George Washington, typing for all of them. Unfortunately I couldn’t make enough money doing this in Washington, so I moved back home and typed for schools in Pennsylvania. That is my story, the woman in the window.