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Jefferson Heights Apartments


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anonymous

Resident 2011

6/8/2011

The first year and a half I lived at this residence I was generally satisfied. The apartment's wood flooring is beautiful and I loved the open windows and rustic decor. I believe the apartments have been around since the roaring 20's, which makes me wonder about all the interesting people and times that have been had at this place. The complex looks like a quaint college campus and for that year my only neighbors were a fat, weird looking 50ish couple who kept to themselves. My recommendation that you not live here revolves around a simple, but chilling story. This winter last I'm going out my back door and find a huge puddle of blood in the snow immediately outside the building. I'm talking looks like a murder or head wound puddle of blood. I'm entering the front door later that night and find half a purse worth of items on the sidewalk: keys, medicare card, social security card, you name it. Being a decent person, I gathered these items up, figured out what resident they belonged to, wrote up a note explaining how I found the items, put them in a bag and left them at their door. What exactly happened you ask? I wouldn't find that out for weeks, but here's how it started. The day following my discovery of a suspicious pool of blood, I notified administration, to which they responded like it wasn't a big deal, asked if the blood was on the wood (bc it would damage it) and then coldly said, "anything else?" They opted not to clean the blood up and for the next week the huge blood puddle remained till the snow melted. After coming home the day I contacted admin I noticed bloody footprints leading up towards my apartment and bloody handprints on the walls (No, they haven't ever cleaned that either, it's probably there right now, a good six months out). This mystery came to a close a couple months later when I had to be let into my locked apartment (they charge you 40.00 by the way). The man letting me in says, "her blood is still on the wall, someone should clean that up." I looked at him in a confused manner, to which he replied, "Oh, the woman upstairs fell, she drinks a lot, was coming home from the bars and fell, happens all the time. She leaves her stuff all over. Her phone was clear across the apartment complex." Ok, so apparently I had an upstairs neighbor old enough to be on medicare that goes out to the bars, during the week, in the snow, gets totalled hammered and likes to fall on her face. That has got to be the saddest, most pathetic story I've ever heard. Do you really want to live somewhere like this? No, neither did I.

    Review 3 out of 7

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    Jefferson Heights Apartments

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