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Spring Garden:
1 YR - 1992 3.5 YRS - 1996-2000 1 YR - 2007 - West Philly: 1992-1996 My dad was born under the kitchen table of his home on the 2100 block of Green St. in 1930. My family still own that house and one other on that block. We still have property on other blocks of green that they've owned since the 60's / 70's. Last edited by R8CHEL : 09-17-2007 at 06:38 PM. |
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Compooter??!! What dat? Thank the gudd lord in heaven you has come to edumicate us mouth breathers. Very sincerely yours, life long residenter. |
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my great grand parents were married at st. francis in 1900, william tinney and cecilia mcbride, they then moved to west phila ( now university city ) where they raised their and my family. in the year 2,000 i was married in that churdh, not knowing my family history until a few weeks before the date, we really came full circle, since then regretfully my family has again left this wonderful neighborhood, hopefully my children will continue this family tradition
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Born in Philly, raised in Haverford, lived for some years at 19th & Shamokin Street in the 70's (those houses were in such bad shape it's now a nicely landscaped parking lot ending in the Granary). Yes, it was a bad neighborhood; I was nervous on Mount Vernon & Fairmount was scary, and the prison was still a real prison. I've lived in worse--Grays Ferry for five years--and better--Haverford again for 16, where people paid through the nose for the ZIP code & lived in fear of any kind of ethnicity. I moved back into the city a couple of years ago and I really like it here.
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Wow, I still miss those houses, though they were in bad shape. Remnants of another era altogether when small residences were wedged in between the large industrial sections between Vine & Spring Garden.
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CityMaps + CityMaps's Lady = new Fairmounters after searching for 1 year for a great place to put down roots. |
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We were across the railroad cut from a huge factory/warehouse, whose windows glowed a garish blue at night. The Rose Tattoo was Junior's Bar, seedy and smelly. The wind whistled through the cracks between the window frame and the wall of my house, it stank of fuel oil, and the entire house creaked--but I loved it there. It still gives me an odd feeling to see that parking lot there.
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3rd generation Fairmounter. My father was born here and never left. His brother was born here and never left. Unfortunately, out of all the children I'm the only one still here in the neighborhood. My family has been here for close to 100 years and, believe it or not, we all know how to use computers. Imagine that.
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