The Boys On The Balconies

I love these. Thanks to Jim Sheeler for passing them along.

THE BOYS ON THE BALCONIES : 40 YARDS OF SILENCE APART

Rocky Mountain News (CO) - Sunday, May 22, 1994

Author: GREG LOPEZ ROCKY MOUNTAIN NEWS STAFF WRITER

Down on the sidewalk, three boys were playing a game that had something to do with hitting the concrete with a stick, and William Ramirez and Nick Samuels sat on their balconies watching the boys and each other.

Ramirez sat on the balcony on the third floor of the building on the east side of the Dorchester Park apartments in Denver. Samuels sat on the balcony on the fourth floor of the building on the west side. They were 40 yards apart.

Between them there was grass, a sidewalk and nine years of sitting on the balconies.

"The old fella over there, he seems happy enough," Samuels said. "Not that it's any of my business, although when he wasn't out for about three weeks last year I did start to think he might've moved or keeled over. He just sits there all afternoon, watching the cars and the people go by."

"He's an old man," Ramirez said. "Set in his ways. I do appreciate that he respects my privacy."

Samuels is 78, retired, never married and moved here 5 1/2 years ago. Ramirez is 69, retired, widowed and moved in with his daughter 3 1/2 years ago. Nothing important has changed for either of them since they moved here, except that now neither of them expects things to change.

"I believe he's a big Rockies fan," Ramirez said. "I see him out there with his radio when the games are on."

"I saw him clap when Galarraga hit that home run to beat the Cards," Samuels said. "So he must be listening. I guess it is kind of a coincidence that we live across from each other and listen to the same games."

It's probably not as much of a coincidence as he thinks, but that is how it is.

Last year, Ramirez had double-bypass heart surgery. He was in the hospital for three days, then stayed with his sister for a week. He thought about moving into a nursing home but decided it wouldn't be good to be around so many old people.

Last year, Samuels thought about moving in with his brother in Lake Havasu City, Ariz., but decided it wouldn't be good to be around so many old people.

About two months ago, Samuels was walking back from the 7-Eleven on West Colfax Avenue. Ramirez was on his way there. They passed.

"I'm pretty sure it was him, but I wasn't exactly positive," Ramirez said. "I do see him eating those potato chips in the green bag, and that's what he was carrying. I recognized them because I don't think it's so good that he eats things like that."

"He looked at me like I was familiar," Samuels said. "What was I going to say?"

They sit on their balconies and watch the other respect his privacy.

The cars and the people and the afternoons go by.

"Used to be everybody knew each other," Ramirez said. "Now, they keep to themselves, and you've got to respect that."

"You know how people are these days," Samuels said. "I'm not saying that's how it should be, but that's how it is."

A TALE OF TWO CITY BALCONIES

Rocky Mountain News (CO) - Wednesday, May 31, 1995

Author: GREG LOPEZ ROCKY MOUNTAIN NEWS STAFF WRITER

Down on the grass, the kids were playing a game that involved jumping on the smallest one in the mud.

Richard Ramirez watched from his balcony. Nick Samuels watched from his balcony. Between them, there was the grass, the kids and 11 1/2 years of sitting on the balconies.

The kids down on the grass didn't notice.

"You learn a lot about people sitting here," Ramirez said.

"It's always something going on down there," Samuels said.

A year ago, I wrote a story about how they sat on their balconies in the afternoons and watched each other watch each other but never crossed the grass to meet each other.

Ramirez is 70, moved here five years ago and sits on the balcony on the third floor of the building on the east side of the Dorchester Apartments in Denver. Samuels is 79, moved here 6 1/2 years ago and sits on the balcony on the fourth floor of the building on the west side. Nothing important has changed since they moved here, except now neither of them expects anything to change.

"So after the story comes out, he waves to me," Samuels said. "Like we're old pals."

"I see him wave to me, so I wave back," Ramirez said. "Here's this old guy doing the same thing I do. How much of a coincidence you think that is?"

Probably not as much of a coincidence as they think, but Ramirez was the one who decided to cross the grass. Samuels decided to answer his door. They sat on the balcony.

"I figured he'd like that," Samuels said.

"He was just like I figured he'd be from seeing him all that time," Ramirez said.

They asked each other questions about how they got here. They talked about the Colorado Rockies. After about an hour, it was just like it used to be, except they were on the same balcony.

"He's a nice enough fellow, but you'd be surprised, the things you don't have in common with some people," Samuels said.

"I did find out I don't like those chips in the green bag he's always eating," Ramirez said.

This went on until the weather got cold. They saw each other once during the winter at the 7-Eleven. When it got warmer, they were sitting on their balconies, and one of them waved to the other.

Ramirez crossed the grass and knocked on Samuels' door.

"I make the move, and then he doesn't answer," Ramirez said.

"I never heard a thing," Samuels said. "I was out here, remember?"

It has been three weeks.

The people down on the grass and the afternoons go past.

They sit on the balconies.

"Maybe if he was to wave to me again . . ." Samuels said.

"I'm not going to say I won't go over there if he asks me again," Ramirez said. "But it's not like I don't have my own balcony to sit on."