If hell exists, it must look something like Mr. Berg's home on the day he was carried away. For months, he had refused to let anyone inside. He was whisked to a hospital, and the house was promptly condemned. Mr. Berg's secret was out. And with it, a warning to us all.
Old age comes hard and mean sometimes.
It dumps loneliness at a man's feet like coal in a Christmas stocking. Those who love such a man must be vigilant in their attentions, and they must hope he doesn't turn away. Mr. Berg had. And in the end, his isolation nearly destroyed him. 342 E. Second St. She kept saying she couldn't believe it.