This is when my father lived at the Hyatt, a residence in Yonkers.
He was on the Alzheimer's floor - a terrific facility for the most part. He fell and broke a hip, then needed to go to rehab after the surgery. He wasn't well enough to return to the Hyatt and lived in nursing homes until he died.
My dad and Mrs. Ascher ate together. He was always yelling at her ("Speak up! I can't hear you" "What in the hell are you talking about!?!") and she loved it. She told me she loved it. She had a crush on my father.
Mrs. Ascher hated when I visited - she was jealous. She'd tell me, "Go home. Get out of here! Leave us alone!"
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