My husband and I were living in West Los Angeles (before kids) when I decided to move back to Boston to return to the company that I had co-founded during college with two friends. I flew back alone to hunt for an apartment. I was tired of driving one hour each way to work and my dream was to walk to work. My Boston friends suggested the South End.
When I was in college, I came to the South End to volunteer at the Pine Street Inn, a homeless shelter. It was a rough neighborhood, split by the proverbial railroad tracks on the wrong side. I remember running in elated fear from a homeless man, either mentally unstable or on drugs, who chased my friend Neal and I to the subway station screaming incoherently at us and making threatening gestures.