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Tag: One Square Mile
“We’ve been on every building in this city,” says Nationwide Window Cleaning owner Jeff Boyar, who describes the truly monumental jobs—imagine the Westin Peachtree Plaza—as occupational adventures, sort of mountain climbs in reverse.
“Bird up!” yells Greg Ames across the wooded hill, silent but for the faint wash of distant traffic, as a red-tailed hawk springs from his leather-gloved wrist. The brass bells strapped to the animal’s legs jingle with each wing flap until she finds a perch on a barren limb some 50 feet up.
In the pits, 73-year-old Nancy Roland, poker visor down and a Marlboro Light dangling from her lips, pushes an ice scraper across the hood of the race car, sweeping off chunks of orange clay. Thirteen-year-old Will Roland steps out from behind the trailer, zipping up his black-and-red fire suit.
Angelica Blackwell was seven on the night of the dance, old enough to know about looking good. She wanted the red stockings—not the black—and red bows in her hair, with the puffs done just right. And because this was a mother-daughter dance, and because daughters of a certain age hold themselves responsible for their mothers’ appearance, she had to inspect her mother’s dress.
Here is the office on a Sunday afternoon in her 40th year at the machine. The music runs from her fingers to the circuitry in a dark room below her feet and then under the ground and down the hill and up the amplifying tower at the water’s edge, 380 feet away.