Readers comments: March 11, 2022

Meeting Florence Curtis halfway around the world
Dear editor:
Now that Curtis Real Estate is closing its doors, I should like to reminisce about my meeting its doyenne, Florence Curtis.
In 1963, following graduation from college, I flew to Southern California to begin a career in engineering at the Pomona division of General Dynamics. Not long thereafter, my parents, who lived in White Plains, New York, were planning to take a three-week trip to Ireland, Scotland, England and France, in that order, and they invited me to join them. I could only take two weeks of vacation, so I opted to travel everywhere with them except to France.
On a three-day bus trip from Edinburgh to London, the bus driver assigned me to a seat next to a woman by the name of Florence Curtis. From talking to her, I learned that she was a realtor in Claremont, California. It seems that I had to travel all the way to the British Isles just to meet someone who was almost my neighbor.
Back at my apartment in Pomona one night, I showed slides of my trip and I invited Mrs. Curtis. I am sure she enjoyed them. They must have brought back fond memories.
Early in 1968, the manager of my apartment building retired. Taking his place was a lush whom I often found sitting in a stupor on the pavement with an empty beer can or two by his side. I knew that I had to find someplace else to live. But where?
Then I remembered Mrs. Curtis. She was a realtor. Perhaps she could help me find a small house to rent. I telephoned her at her office. She said she had two two-bedroom houses for rent — one on College Avenue in southern Claremont and the other at 555 West Ninth Street. I preferred the Ninth Street location.
The house belonged to the mother of Harold Ford, the husband of noted sculptor Betty Davenport Ford. Mr. Ford was reluctant to rent the house to a young single man for fear I would have parties and wreck the place. Mrs. Curtis suggested that Mr. Ford meet me in the driveway of the house on Sunday morning at 10 a.m. We met and conversed at length. I subsequently rented the house for $145 per month.
I moved in on April 1, 1968 — April Fool’s Day. And Mrs. Curtis, I soon learned, was my neighbor across the street.
Jay B. Winderman

Concerns about the Claremont BofA
Dear editor:
I have been concerned about the Claremont branch of Bank of America. As most customers know, the branch has been closed for about three months for regular banking hours. I have tried to use the ready teller for deposits and have received the “no deposits available” note. I have looked up the open hours on my iPad, see it is open on Wednesday at 9 a.m. driven to the branch and found it still closed, with the same note posted for all to read, “Closed due to unforeseen circumstances.” It is hard for me to see how a bank that takes out a full page ad in the Los Angeles Times encouraging customers can close a branch without notifying its local depositors, about what is going on.
Will this branch be closing, just like all the branches up the 395 corridor, between Adelanto and the Nevada border? Does any one know the answer to my questions?
Jil Stark
Mt San Antonio Gardens, Pomona

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