The Day They Buried The Furnace, And Other Tales From The Block

Photo by John Hoff

The resident I call "Patty Cake" and "The Polish Lady" do not habitually refer to properties in the neighborhood by their street address, but rather by the names of the people who were once associated with the property...

...from a different, more happy era.

They refer to 400 31st Ave. North as "Neumillers." The property is now vacant and fire damaged, owned by Phil Kleindl's people.

The Day They Buried The Furnace

According to Patty, a little convenience store used to be attached to the house, right where this large grassy hump is visible, above. The city made them close the store, which sat vacant for a long time--more than a decade, easily--and finally started falling apart and become a hazard. In order to alleviate the hazard, the owners of the property tore the building down--storing a lot of the lumber right at the site--and what couldn't be torn down was simply buried.

Reportedly, they buried a gigantic furnace. Patty said the furnace "joined the horseshoes and other stuff that's underneath this ground."

I couldn't help but wonder if the furnace had pipes attached to it with hazardous asbestos. I wondered if any soil sampling had been done.

Sasha, a.k.a. "The Russian Lady"

The house where the "scary little gang garage" used to be was once owned by a woman named "Sasha," also called "The Russian Lady." The Polish Lady has a wisteria which once belonged to The Russian Lady, who had a huge garden of flowers and vegetables.

Later, two gay men acquired ownership of Sasha's house, and continued to maintain a wonderful flower garden. The Polish lady also has stuff from their garden. In fact, based on things I'm told, the Polish Lady is the "keeper of the gardens" who constantly comes into possession of people's plants when they move. But the gay men are not there anymore. One of them died about 10 years ago.

Me and Patty walked around the property, and found a wisteria and a "mock orange blossom" still surviving on the property, though hard-pressed to compete with the brush.

Kiros The Cat Goes to Neumillers To Die

The house at 400 31st Ave. N. holds a bad memory for the Polish lady, since her cat "went there to die." The cat was ill and--the Polish lady suspects--may have been poisoned by somebody. The cat got loose and walked toward Neumillers.

"Kiros, Kiros!" the Polish woman called, but the cat turned to her and made a sound which, in retrospect, the Polish woman took to mean, "Leave me alone, I'm going to die."

Later, somebody working on the house found the dead cat, recognized it as belonging to the Polish lady, and said, "The poor cat is dead in there." There were some other dead cats in the building, as well, which is why the Polish lady suspects poison.

Despite her devotion to beautiful flowers, the Polish lady's stories are not always filled with happiness. They do have a tendency to turn dark at times.

Of course, my take on the story was, "How good to live in a neighborhood with so much social capital that people recognize each other's pets, and alert their neighbor when something happens to the pet."

Scribner's House At 3033 4th Street North

For a long time, a woman named Scribner lived at 3033 4th Street North, which is now a rental property troubled by frequent (and frequently blatant) drug dealing, owned by the same outfit which owns 400 31st Avenue North. (Neumillers)

After Mrs. Scribner moved out, Scribner's son moved in upstairs and her daughter downstairs. One of them was married, for sure, but there were no kids. Patty can remember nothing particularly notable. They lived there, and left their surname in the memory of Patty and the Polish lady.

The Value of Neighborhood History

When I learn the stories of the neighborhood, I feel a sense of belonging, which makes me want to work to help the neighborhood. So I collect the stories for the wave of new residents I believe will come in the future, once the neighborhood is secure and the Eco-Village starts to become more of a reality.

These stories will come to them easily, because I have taken the effort to gather the stories to a convenient forum. The new residents will know what came before, and will be able to perceive a blank page of possibility upon which to write their own neighborhood history.