http://doodlemeister.com/2009/10/17/the-falconer-building/ The Wide World of Doodling Thu, 22 Jul 2010 23:26:40 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.com/ http://doodlemeister.com/2009/10/17/the-falconer-building/#comment-1196 Jim Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:16:57 +0000 http://doodlemeister.com/?p=5308#comment-1196 Thank you for the comment, Jacquie — interesting and funny, as always. Thank you for the comment, Jacquie — interesting and funny, as always.

]]> http://doodlemeister.com/2009/10/17/the-falconer-building/#comment-1193 Jacquie Roland Wed, 21 Oct 2009 00:56:47 +0000 http://doodlemeister.com/?p=5308#comment-1193 Ha! Great, Jim. Another DoodleMeister post which brings back "fond" memories. I didn't work at the Falconer Building, but I did work at the Civic-Howard Building starting around 1965. In subsequent years I also "did time" at the 707 N. Calvert St. Building and the infamous Paca-Pratt ( AKA Packa-Rat ) Building. When I started working for Social Security, the folks who had moved to the new facility in Woodlawn were thought of as "the elite". Over the years any of us still "downtown" were thought of as rather strange ducks, and in many instances... this was true. ( I started my SSA life as a grade GS-one file clerk at the main office, and went downtown for a promotion. I didn't return to Woodlawn for MANY years.) Reading your essay, I can feel the grit from the open widows that looked out over those wild city streets in the 60's. (Think pre- Inner Harbor development) Unreal. Very few people today would work under conditions that we accepted as normal. The rats, the drunks, the street people — I can hear Cher in the background singing "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves." We shared our grungy elevators with the V-D clinic upstairs, our offices were barely furnished, we had 30 minutes for lunch, and bells which rang out all day long, telling us when we could start and stop for the day, take a break, and get lunch. One day, running up the street to pick up our lunch order, my friend Adrienne and I found ourselves flat on the ground, hiding behind cars, caught in the middle of a shoot-out between Baltimore's Finest and some robbers. Another time, the lady at the desk next to mine was shot by her estranged husband while the "security guard" cowered behind his desk. Luckily, I was out that day. I was in when several of my co-workers decided to have a go at each other, using everything from a potted plant to the Xerox machine as ammunition. Reading about your Miss Rita, reminded me that the conditions we worked under made fast, close, friends... and sometimes strange enemies... and sometimes... stranger bedfellows. And all too often, all of the above. Thanks, Jim... I hadn't thought about that in quite a while. Ha! Great, Jim. Another DoodleMeister post which brings back “fond” memories.
I didn’t work at the Falconer Building, but I did work at the Civic-Howard Building starting around 1965. In subsequent years I also “did time” at the 707 N. Calvert St. Building and the infamous Paca-Pratt ( AKA Packa-Rat ) Building.
When I started working for Social Security, the folks who had moved to the new facility in Woodlawn were thought of as “the elite”. Over the years any of us still “downtown” were thought of as rather strange ducks, and in many instances… this was true. ( I started my SSA life as a grade GS-one file clerk at the main office, and went downtown for a promotion. I didn’t return to Woodlawn for MANY years.)
Reading your essay, I can feel the grit from the open widows that looked out over those wild city streets in the 60′s. (Think pre- Inner Harbor development) Unreal. Very few people today would work under conditions that we accepted as normal. The rats, the drunks, the street people — I can hear Cher in the background singing “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.”
We shared our grungy elevators with the V-D clinic upstairs, our offices were barely furnished, we had 30 minutes for lunch, and bells which rang out all day long, telling us when we could start and stop for the day, take a break, and get lunch.
One day, running up the street to pick up our lunch order, my friend Adrienne and I found ourselves flat on the ground, hiding behind cars, caught in the middle of a shoot-out between Baltimore’s Finest and some robbers. Another time, the lady at the desk next to mine was shot by her estranged husband while the “security guard” cowered behind his desk. Luckily, I was out that day.
I was in when several of my co-workers decided to have a go at each other, using everything from a potted plant to the Xerox machine as ammunition. Reading about your Miss Rita, reminded me that the conditions we worked under made fast, close, friends… and sometimes strange enemies… and sometimes… stranger bedfellows. And all too often, all of the above.
Thanks, Jim… I hadn’t thought about that in quite a while.

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