Kindness of Strangers

Found another typewriter, on a street corner with a bunch of stuff that didn't make the cut in someone's last move. It's a lovely little Remington Portable, and the pamphlet that came with it isn't dated, but does say, "The first Remington Portable--brought out in 1921--revolutionized the world's writing habits. But the new one--recently launched--with many new features--is the last word in beauty, speed and ease of operation. Here it is, ready to serve you. . . ." Based on the machines featured on Richard Polt's site, I'm guessing it's from the early 30's.

But I found it on a corner near 28th and Ash, and I live near 45th and Hawthorne. This wouldn't have been a problem--it is portable, after all! and one of the smallest most truly portable old typewriters I've seen--except that the handle on the case is missing, and I was already running late to get home and meet Laurel. A woman walked by as I was looking at the typewriter, trying to fit the case together. She commented on it, and I said I wanted to carry it home--she said, "You should!" and I said, "Except I live at 45th and Hawthorne!" She said, "You shouldn't!" but then about halfway down the block, she came back and said, "I live on the next block, I'm walking home from work--I can run you home in my van."

And she did, leaving her dog whining in the doorway.

I don't need any more reasons to love Portland right now. I guess I should stockpile them for winter rain.