Incident At 2214 Lyndale Ave. N. (Follow Up Report)

Photos By John Hoff

Several days ago I blogged about the rough-looking characters I saw cleaning out the house at 2214 Lyndale Ave. N., and how I called the police because it didn't look right, and how one of the guys didn't cooperate as quickly as he should have, and found himself taken down to the ground. Click here to read that old blog post.

Well, here is (as Paul Harvey would say) THE REST OF THE STORY...

Some days ago I was driving around on 4th St. N. near Farview Park when I saw a couple guys on the porch of a long-vacant house, once again fooling around with the front door. I recognized the guys...the same two characters from the incident at 2214 Lyndale Ave. N.

Well, since they were running around loose and doing the same exact stuff, I figured maybe they really were doing some halfway legitimate work, even if they looked like a couple of no-account house thieves there to literally steal the kitchen sink.

So I figured this time, before calling the police, I'd manage to get the license plate of their vehicle...unlike before...and I'd stick my nose into matters even FURTHER because I'm like that.

So I cruised around the block, slowly, got the plate number, and then parked right behind their vehicle. I acted like I had just finished talking into my phone, maybe calling the police.

I could tell the one guy ("Fat Boy") had seen me. He was on his precious phone, again. Calling the person known as "honey," I figured.

I opened my van door and stood nearby, the vehicle still running, ready to get back inside if necessary. My vehicle is my best weapon. I've discussed this before.

"So are you putting a deadbolt in THIS ONE, too?" I asked.

The older guy took one look at me and went ambling down the sidewalk, leaving. The other guy (Fat Boy) walked over, carefully, cell phone in hand.

"We're winterizing," he explained. "Who are you?"

I told him who I was. I told him this was my neighborhood, and we watch the houses around here "like hawks," and so when we see somebody going up to a house, cleaning it out, we want to know what's up.

We had an intense discussion, at times both of us speaking over the other. He handed me the cell phone and told me to talk to the guy on the other end, who identified himself as a local real estate agent named "Johnson." (Yes, he gave me a first name, too)

Johnson complimented me on my determination to protect the neighborhood--after all, this very house had the pipes stolen, he said, making the "winterizing" task of the crew he sent rather besides the point, but all the same. Johnson said the mortgage company in possession of the house was "breaking (his) balls" to get the "damn place winterized." So that's why he'd sent the crew over on short notice, to get it done.

I told Johnson his "winterizing crew" didn't look like much; they had no company vehicle, no jackets or hats identifying them as...anything. What were we in the neighborhood supposed to do or think when we saw such rough-looking individuals pull up to a vacant house and pry on the front door with--for god's sake--a Phillips screw driver? Should we take the word of a guy on a cell phone?

I said, "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you." I said I'd take a picture of his crew. That way, if there were any questions, well, I'd have some documentation about who was at the house. Paul agreed. Fair enough. I snapped the picture. The other guy had, as I said, toddled off the minute he saw me coming.

After that, me and "Fat Boy" got into a discussion, again. He was rather incensed about what he'd endured from the police. I told him if he'd stopped talking on the phone when the officer gave him directions, things would have happened a lot differently. "Fat Boy" then told me the officer had called him a "white peckerwood." He said he'd "get paid" for what had happened.

"I was standing right there," I said. "I don't remember anything like that being said."

"I thought you said you were a block away when you called!" he snapped.

"When I called 911, yes," I clarified. "But when the cop took you down, I was standing right there. Heck, I saw your belly pop out of your t-shirt. No such thing was said. I'll be that officer's witness."

I told "Fat Boy" he should get something identifying himself as a workman doing legitimate work. Some kind of jacket, perhaps. I pointed to my own jacket which says "CRI Remodels, Inc." I didn't bother to mention I'd literally found it on the street a year ago, but that would only drive home my point: if I can get a jacket which (accidentally) makes me look "workmanlike" by scrounging one off the street, "Fat Boy" could easily make himself look more legitimate.

I also learned there really had been a couple guys with a truck, cleaning the place out. "Fat Boy" said they didn't do a good job, and he made them come back later.

Decent enough work if you can get it: getting paid to clean out the house, then making more profit by selling the items you "clean out" of the house. Twice I've worked for "affordable housing" rental property companies, and I always enjoyed "cleaning out" apartments, particularly the freezers where steaks and shrimp were, often enough, simply abandoned. I abhor waste, and I value conservation of the earth's resources over black-and-white lines about who owns what. Sometimes, I assert, ownership is gray.

But, all the same, some of these "winterization" crews clearly are a rough bunch, and legal lines get crossed. Jeff Skrenes sent me a story about THAT, which I'll share in the next blog post.

In any case, despite their rough appearance, and something of an attitude problem dealing with police trying to protect our homes, these guys apparently are some kind of freelance, seat-of-the -pants, won't-break-your-budget "winterization crew." Calling 911 on them was what you might call "friendly fire."

I admit it. It was the wrong call. People tell me I made the right call and what was I supposed to do? There were, all told, FOUR OF THEM AT LEAST cleaning out that house at 2214 Lyndale Ave. N. Was I supposed to saunter up and ask "What the heck?"

I hate it when that happens. But what can I do? I have to shake it off. I'm not going to let North Minneapolis houses get robbed of copper if I'm standing right there with a cell phone. And the story Jeff told me a few days ago (next blog post) confirms some of these "winterization crews" aren't completely honest.