The Moving Game

We welcome new Managing Director Debbie Chinn from California, where she was previously the Managing Director of the California Shakespeare Theater. Follow her blog as she chronicles her adventures acclimating to CENTERSTAGE—and life in Baltimore.


Upon learning that California beds don’t fit into (some) Baltimore houses:

I’m renting a lovely home in Guilford which has three levels. Before arriving in Baltimore, my landlord warned me that a queen-size box spring mattress will not make it up the stairs due to the combination of a narrow turn and a low lamp that hangs about 2 feet below the ceiling. Instead, they told me that the only way to get the box spring in would be through a side window off the master bedroom. They had the outside planter boxes removed to make things slightly easier for me.

As I was waiting for my moving truck to arrive, I kept eyeing the staircase and was sure that my landlords were mistaken. I took a broom handle to slightly shift the low lamp off to the side and was glad to see that it provided a clear space to get the box spring up the staircase, provided we could stand it up on its end. With that in mind, I told the movers that – in spite of my landlord’s ominous warning – I had everything all figured out and was sure that the box spring could make the sharp turn at the top of the stair case landing. The four moving guys kept shaking their heads but agreed to try. As they lifted, hoisted, and grunted their way up the staircase, it was evident that the bed was stuck (even though I was at the top of the staircase reaching over with my broom handle to sweep the low hanging lamp around the 6’ 4” tall moving guy’s head). They went back down and shifted the bed in an upright position and charged up the stairs again only to get stuck at the corner. At this point, one of the moving guys asked me where I bought my bed. I told him I got it from Macy’s in California and he then told the other three guys to put the bed down and explained it was impossible to move a California bed into an older Baltimore home because box springs made in California don’t split down the middle – therefore, it doesn’t come apart in order to fit around narrow stair cases.

We agreed to try the landlord’s option and the four moving guys took the box spring to the side of the house with the goal of raising it through the side window. The five of us went upstairs to convene by the side window and, as we peered down at the box spring sitting on the ground below, it was now doubtful that it would make it through the window – even diagonally – because it appeared to be thicker than normal. Measurements were taken and hammers and screwdrivers were pulled out in anticipation of removing the hinges to the window to allow for an extra 1/4 inch of wiggle room. One of the moving guys offered an exasperated solution which was to leave the box spring by the curb and sell it later. By now, I was becoming quite attached to the box spring and was determined to get the wretched thing into the house. So after a quick huddle with the guys, we agreed to give it a shot.

We all got into positions: Two guys were upstairs pulling it in (I was holding one guy by the leg and the tail end of his t-shirt as he dangled over the window sill to catch the box spring from below), one guy was on the ground pushing it up and another guy climbed up into the tree to give it a shove through the window. He was covered with foliage and was hard to see, so he kept yelling in Spanish—which the guy downstairs couldn't understand. Leaves were flying all over the place as he was trying to direct things. When the guy dangling out the window seemed to be evenly balanced, I released my grip on his leg, ran to get my broom handle and raced downstairs to give it to the guy below to help poke the box spring up to the guy in the tree. There was a cacophony of noise – branches breaking, men yelling, the cover to the box spring ripping open as it made its way through the side window, and my now beloved broom handle snapping in half due to the pressure it took against the weight of the box spring. But the box spring made its way into the window and there were cheers of victory after we got the guy out of the tree.

But I swear that bed is staying in this house when I move out.

~Debbie

Earlier this fall, Grants Manager Sean Beattie played “20 Questions” (okay, more like 10) with Debbie... check out her interview at centerstage.org