To be honest, I ‘m not sure what I thought Pittsburgh would be like. I had been there one time prior to marrying Ed and I found the whole few days there confusing and overwhelming. At the time, I figured it was because I had to meet his mom, his dad, his uncle, his brother and family, and his best friend and family. A lot to take in. Not to mention all the things he wanted to show me: Mount Washington, Ohiopyle, Kennywood, and old haunts like schools, houses, parks, etc. It was all so much I didn’t put a whole lot of thought into what the place was actually like, how it connected, or the fact that I wasn’t technically in the City of Pittsburgh but for a very small portion of that trip. I didn’t realize then that when people of Pittsburgh say they are from Pittsburgh they mean the entire county of Allegheny, plus most of Beaver, Butler, and other surrounding counties thrown in for good measure.
I started to realize the vast scope and strangeness of that city when trying to help Ed find a place he could rent and have ready upon my arrival. It was very difficult to know where anything was located just by seeing the name of the township, borough, municipality, etc. listed on the advertisement. A map didn’t help me much. I got turned around looking at a map of Pittsburgh so quickly I couldn’t tell north from south anymore. When I arrived a week before our wedding, I soon found out why. Even Google maps had trouble navigating the streets of Pittsburgh. The common phrase the natives use – “You can’t get there from here” – is the truest statement I ever heard in that City. I think our out-of-town wedding guests were quite happy when they got to leave the strange place.
But I had to stay. Now you know since we’re on Part 12 of all the places I have lived, that I have made some moves that were culture shocks. But none of those compared to Pittsburgh. The first week after we were married I sat in a laundry mat listening to a couple of locals talk in with such an awful Pittsburgh accent I thought I had moved to a foreign country. I soon learned that people from the “South Hills” didn’t go to the “North Hills” and vice versa. Literally. Some had never crossed the river. It was like their own miniature War of Northern Agresssion without the war part. Ed would drive me around so I was so lost I couldn’t have gotten back home with a map. And I never did completely adjust to that culture. Mostly I didn’t want to.
But the places we lived were nice enough for a big city. The first wasn’t a five minute drive to downtown (if all the lights were green and traffic was light). Right along the Ohio River, it was in a little town called Avalon. We lived in the bottom off of a house a guy had bought and made it to a duplex. We were his first downstairs tenants so everything was fresh and new. Ed hated having people stomp above his head, but he didn’t grow up with a houseful of siblings that were always banging around like I did. It never bothered me. It was a simple little two bedroom, one bath, tiny kitchen, living area and dining room with a decent basement for laundry and storage. Nothing fancy, but lots of windows for natural light and high ceilings. I think we would have stayed there, but we couldn’t have two kids in the duplex and we wanted to save a little money since I wouldn’t be working (supposedly) after Ethan arrived. So, we moved out not quite a month after Ethan was born.
We moved right down the Ohio River into Beaver county (where it was slightly cheaper to live) in a little worn out town called Rochester. History will say it was once a booming community right where the Beaver River flows into the Ohio. It had a huge hospital, glass factories, and wealthy people in their nice homes. Those days are long gone. The main street looks like a ghost town and the once grand houses are dilapidated, cut up into apartments, or simply wasting away empty. We found a side-by-side duplex there. Two bedrooms and a bath upstairs, a living area/dining room and kitchen with a half bath on the main floor, and a mostly finished basement with an unfinished section for laundry and storage. It was tight in many places, but it was also nice in other ways. If the stairs hadn’t been so open and the kids so young, it would have suited even better. And there was no way to beat what a great landlord we had. We got to know him really well. He even offered to keep the other side of the place empty and quiet if we’d stay. Unfortunately, it was going to take more than that to get me to stay in Pittsburgh. For when the Lord opened the door to move to Indiana, I couldn’t run fast enough!
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