Eleanor Hall would soon be 97 years old. Her body was failing but with the assistance of her beloved grandson Nick and his wife Nance, she was able to live in the house she and her late husband Harry had purchased in 1946, shortly after the war ended.

Eleanor pondered this one morning while sipping her morning coffee. Sadly, the neighborhood had deteriorated in the last few years. Not too long ago, it was well maintained and the neighbors quiet and friendly. But, in the last dozen years or so, Eleanor had seen the last of her old friends pass away and a new criminal element move in. Now, drug abuse and other crime, mostly thievery, had made the street she lived on unsafe. This was especially true for a 96-year old widow, but Nick had been unable to convince her to move into a retirement center.