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Last November, I stopped in Des Moines to visit someone on my way up to Christina's place. She lived in a large retirement community. My first mistake was to park in the area where staff parked, despite the fact that I had made the same mistake the previous time that I had visited Millie. Not so bad; I just had to walk to the next building. I recognized things once there.
As I entered the next building, I asked for the rough directions to her room. After winding my way through several (connected) buildings, I found the elevators I was told to go up. When there, I saw a worker and asked her where the stairs were, and she pointed them out to me. I knew Millie lived on the second floor, and I try, as a general rule, not to use an elevator unless I have to go more than 4 floors up. (This choice is based on environmental and health considerations.)
After climbing in the stairwell one floor up, I tried to open the door to the second floor. But the door was locked. I went up to the third floor: locked. Back to the first: locked. There was no way for me to get out of the stairwell except to go out via the ground-level exit. I did that, but then I had to walk a long way around to the other side (in the cold) until I could get back to where I first came in. All the other doors to the inside were all locked, which didn't surprise me. Eventually, I got to visit Millie, but I needed to grit my teeth as I pushed the button for the elevator, and I grimaced while it took me up one floor.
Published 2026-02-04.
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