NoMi Neighbor Says "Oh Hell NO" to Copper Thief...

Photo shared by Drother, Blog Post by Nomi Passenger

Just for the sake of sharing the success story, not to mention also to bump down the picture of those bad boys with guns, (see previous blog post) here is some good news being shared around the Jordan neighborhood listserv.

An observent and protective neighbor, who I like to call Drother, shared the above photo and reported the following:

"Copper thief just got away! Greasy white male 40 yrs old, shoulder  length brown hair, 200 lbs wearing blue hooding and blue sweat pants just tried to break into 2640 Sheridan. I chased him over 2 fences but he got away. He left the bike he was riding and some copper in his bag (see photo). If the bike was stolen from you call the 4th precinct. "

Good job, Drother! Every block needs a Drother or two.

So, like he says, if you think that's your bike (or copper, lol) call the 4th.  And if you can, put the word out on the copper thief communicaiton wire ~ "Not in this neighborhood!"

(Do Not Click "Read More")

JNS BLOG SORTA EXCLUSIVE: Images Of The (Alleged) Crooks Whose Actions Killed A Police Dog...

First and foremost, these images are mug shots and therefore in the public domain. Anybody who wants to reproduce these photos on a blog or t-shirt or whatever is free to do so. Don't feel like you have to ask me. Take the pictures and run.

Second, the "front view" mug shots were already published on Fox9, click here, but the photos used by Fox9 included only the front view, not the side view. And I think readers will really want to check out...

...that spiffy tattoo sported by Jesse Luna, 37, or the way Tina Gerber, 30, looks like she has five o'clock shadow over her lip; not just from the front angle but also from the side.

The next time a police dog chases Jesse Luna--and I'm sure there will be a next time, unless he suddenly and unexpectedly gives his life to Jesus or something--I hope that police dog clamps on right on that oh-so-tempting tattoo of, well, bones. 

If I were a police dog, I'd find that tattoo impossible to resist. 

A $20,000 Conversation On Lyndale Ave. North...

Photos By John Hoff

A couple days ago I was calling 311 on vacant houses with weedy lawns--calling in so many you'd think I was getting a COMMISSION or something--when I came upon a house on Lyndale Ave. N. with owner contact information prominently posted.

I won't call the Minneapolis 311 system when I can reach an owner THIS easily. Posting this kind of information is a way of saying, "We give a rip. Please, call US first." I just assume the other owners of vacant properties don't give a rip, since they don't post any information. 

(Personally, I think posting owner contact info should be a REQUIREMENT for owners of vacant houses but, hey, I'm an idea-a-minute kind of guy, just like my son the robot enthusiast)

So I called the number. Left a message. How unsatisfying. Get me a live human being. I called the OTHER posted number, and reached a friendly, chatty woman. I informed her the lawn was weedy (in excess of 8 inches) plus crack heads had started to strip off the siding...


My smoking hot Realtor Juley Viger used to say metal thieves were desperately trying to feed their families. I'd reply their families were hungry, sure...because their breadwinner was ADDICTED TO CRACK. I think we ultimately had to agree to disagree, but who's the one left in North Minneapolis actually DEALING with metal thieves? Well, that would be me, while Juley's living large in South Minneapolis.

(Suggested branding effort for South Minneapolis: This Place Is SoMi)

Anyway...

The chatty lady was dismayed to learn siding was being stolen, and informed me copper thieves had already made off with the pipes. She thanked me for calling her instead of the city, and promised to get somebody out first thing Tuesday after the upcoming Memorial Day weekend.

"Just because I'm curious," I said. "What is the list price of this one?"

She informed me it was $49,000. I laughed out loud. And then I apologized and said, you know, the going price around here for a decent little house missing its plumbing is holding pretty solid around $17,500 to $18,000.

She explained to me the house had Private Mortgage Insurance (PMI) and this was part of the reason the price was listed so high, because somebody was trying to avoid writing off a loss. However, she said, if the house was starting to lose pieces of its siding, then condemnation might be looming in the near future. Maybe she could fire off an email. Maybe she could see about lowering the price...

"COULD YOU?!" I said, hardly able to believe how well this conversation was going. "I mean, really, $18,000 is where the price should be."

The woman on the phone thought $29,000 was a better price. She'd see about lowering it to $29,000. I swore up and down I'd try to keep an eye on the place, so there would be something left to sell. Thank you, ma'am. We're trying so hard to turn this neighborhood around. THANK YOU.

And she was all, like, no...thank YOU.

As I hit the power button on my cell phone, I realized this little conversation had caused a fluctuation in the local real estate market to the tune of $20,000.

Free Public Wine Tasting At Broadway Liquor Outlet Takes Place Monthly, So Be Sure To "BLO Through!"

Photos by John Hoff

Megan Goodmundson of the JACC neighborhood literally drove me to drink, giving me a ride to a free wine tasting at Broadway Liquor Outlet, (BLO) which locals pronounce "Blow."

The wine tasting takes place monthly, with one or two beer tastings a year, as well. The events...

...are publicized via email notification, which customers can sign up for by stopping at BLO, click here for their website.

Dean Rose, the owner (pictured above, and also pictured with his wife) says BLO has spent 20 years in that location. Rose is a third-generation retailer, and his father grew up in "NoMi" before folks started calling it "NoMi."

In 2006, according to Dean, "we decided we weren't taking our store out of the hood, so we took the hood out of the store." Interior renovations were made to the floor, and the ticky-tacky "drop down ceiling" was removed to reveal the original tin ceiling, which received a copper-colored paint job. For the record, this is the most copper color I've seen on the entire North Side, combined!

Rose emphasizes how BLO is a neighborhood-oriented wine store. One of his major competitors, Rose says, is like "a grocery store for liquor" with a "different vibe."

Yeah. "Different vibe."

Rose is too kind to his fellow businesspeople. On the bright side, the world's largest YWCA is expected to totally revitalize that OTHER corner of the neighborhood with the OTHER liquor store.

According to Rose, BLO hopes to make the facade of their building nicer "when some money is available." He emphasizes that if you have some special liquor you're seeking, he can order it for you. In the picture above, Connie Nompelis (No-bell-iss) inquires about a Rosenblum Vintner's Cuvee' which is some kind of...Zamboni?

Or was it...Infidel?

No, wait, I know...ZINFINDEL!!!

Preparing For Demolition At 3101 6th St. N., The Former "Apartment Complex Of Anarchy"

Photos By John Hoff

The apartment building at 3101 6th St. N., which I once dubbed "The Apartment Complex of Anarchy" and even police officials began using the name is...

...apparently going to be demolished soon.

A couple of workmen were there recently, and appeared to be taking stock of what needed to be done for demolition. I spoke to them; making sure they were legitimate workmen who belonged on the property and not just no-accounts making off with kitchen sinks.

Their noses wrinkled as they described the apartments as "full of trash" and said there were a lot of refrigerators inside. They said there would be a "big pile" of fridges, and didn't seem too happy with the prospect of hauling out those heavy, stinky items.

One item they scored was a metal shop cabinet festooned with automotive stickers, middle photo. Cool. Somebody who owned that cabinet once-upon-a-time shared my deep love of stickers.

The workmen had a pile of straw erosion barriers, pictured in the top photo. (I'm not sure what these items are actually called, but their purpose was obvious and, a day later, these were in position all around the apartment building)

I fully expect that one day soon I will drive around the corner of Lyndale Ave. N. and 31st Ave. N. and see "The Backhoe of Doom" doing its brutal work or possibly even a pile of fresh dirt, with no sign of The Backhoe but its distinctive tracks.

It seems like only a few months ago juveniles were dealing crack in the lobby, and one of them was hiding the drugs in his rectum.

Oh, wait. That WAS only a few months ago.

Yes, the corner of 6th and 31st used to be "ground zero" for prostitution and drug dealing, but now you hardly see anybody standing around. (Of course, the crackheads just furtively go inside 3020 6th St. N., but that house is in foreclosure--the clock is running down on redemption--and this nest of crackheads will, also, inevitably be cleaned out)

The times in North Minneapolis...they are a-changing.

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.

Metal Scrappers Descend On 3119 4th St. N.

Photo By John Hoff

Word comes from "Patty Cake" that metal scrappers with a pickup truck descended....

...on 3119 4th St. N. I had noticed a lot of salvageable metal within the tangled wreckage; copper wire, part of a rain gutter, and some appliances--stoves and fridges--so ripped up by the backhoe that fairly decent pieces of metal could be pulled from the useless, bulky parts. Frankly, I'm surprised it took the scrappers this long to arrive. 

The scrappers are regarded with a mixture of perceptions: on the one hand, they are doing hard and gritty work which is arguably environmentalist. On the other hand, many of them are suspected of drug addictions and criminal records, and a few are not adverse to stealing copper pipes and pulling metal siding right off houses if nobody is looking. How do you know the "honest" scrappers from the rest? You don't. However, if they're using a licensed vehicle instead of a baby buggy, then they seem to be better-quality scrappers. But not always. 

"Patty" was hoping to have a little party when the privacy fence was completed, but with the fence now delayed until spring she's contemplating a "putting plastic over the northern windows" party.

(Do not click "Read More") 

So This Is What Copper Pipe Looks Like!

Photo By John Hoff

I was touring a house with Connie Nompelis recently, and--will wonders never cease?--there were copper pipes left in the basement! I...

...was in the process of feasting my eyes on the copper...it's SO RARE to see complete copper pipes instead of the mere ragged ends of copper pipes in the price range of homes I customarily tour...when Connie pointed out something to me.

Pipe cutter. It was attached to the copper pipe, but left in place...like the guy cutting the pipe ran away, frightened, and never came back for his tool.

It's not the first time I've seen telling remnants of trespass, drug abuse, and pipe theft. As my real estate agent Juley Viger once put it so well: what must the REST of that person's life be like if their panties are in a bag in an empty house?

What Next At 3119 4th Street N.? A Rain Of Toads And Blood?

Photo By John Hoff

Word reaches me from "Patty Cake" in the Eco-Village of a disturbing new problem with 3119 4th Street N., which sits empty and awaiting demolition...

"Patty" emails me today as follows:

I called 911 yesterday on 3119 4th (St. N.). I smelled a natural gas smell coming from the apartment windows. I came to find out it isn't natural gas but SEWER GAS.

The fire department called the gas company and then told me the gas was already shut off. I was told there was nothing they could do about the sewer smell and only a SLIGHT possibility the sewer gas would build up enough to BLOW UP.

In a follow-up phone conversation, I learned from "Patty" that one of the guys bidding on the demolition reports the building is full of asbestos, which will make demolition a lot more complicated and costly. And fun, of course. Don't forget fun. Ooooooh, moon suits. I love moon suits.

In the meantime, now is the perfect time to talk about an itsy bitsy foray into 3119 4th St. N. which happened more than a month ago. See, "Patty Cake" is very allergic to mold, and due to water gushing inside and flooding the basement after copper pipes were stolen, the building has become Mold-O-Topia...to the point mold could be strongly smelled outside the building, and "Patty Cake" had to take a sick day at work from breathing that (expletive) in.

Right after "Patty" took a sick day, I went to "3119"...and I may have had my friends with cameras along with, who knows? And acting under the broad and sensible "adopt houses" mandate, I went inside and secured as many wide-open windows as I could, to keep the mold spore contained inside to keep "Patty" from getting sick. Sicker.

And, in fact, during Mayor Rybak's visit to the tree nursery, I told him quite openly about this little adventure...and Peter Teachout told him, at the same time, about taking shoes off power lines.

And with the cameras rolling and everything, nobody said "Don't do that" and so I figured, hey, it's coooool, so I decided I wouldn't have to write up my little They-Came-From-Planet-Mold adventure using the literary artifice of "The Ghost of Uncle Jack" to talk about who it was, exactly, who secured that building to trap The Spore. (I did, in fact, use some of Uncle Jack's nails which "Patty Cake" gave me. Uncle Jack is the relative who build the house in which "Patty" now resides. Uncle Jack still resides there too, kind of, heh heh)

Anyway, closing off the windows made things better as far as the mold spore issue, but after a while "Patty" noticed I'd either missed a couple windows or somebody had gotten inside and opened one of the windows, possibly even a city worker; since "Patty" had been making calls about the uber-toxic "Mold-O-Topia" situation next door, and its impact on her quality of life. And I meant to write about my little mold-containment foray but, good lord, I can hardly keep up with everything.

Mold is a very primitive life form. Mold can wait its turn in line while I write about life forms like gangsters with digital cameras. (Click here)

I kept meaning to get inside "3119" again and close those windows, really, but now it turns out it's a good thing I didn't...I mean, in light of the sewer gas.

Did I say LIGHT? No, I didn't mean that. Please, don't light anything.

Well, at least "3119" has a few windows to vent from, while the mold spore is still mostly contained. These are the kind of desperate "life in a lifeboat" issues we deal with in the Eco-Village:

Scary Mold Spore Mutant Attack or Revenge of the Sewer Gas.

Pick yer poison.

"The Ghost Of Radiator Past" At 430 30th Ave. N.

Photo by John Hoff

I toured 430 30th Ave. N. with my real estate agent, Juley Viger. Metal thieves had not only made off with the copper pipes, but with the radiators. A friend of mine, Doug Coppess, once told me old radiators were worth something like "between 10 and 18 books per loop."

Juley Viger said to me, "Do you know how HEAVY those things are?"

And I was all, like, "Oh, believe me, Juley, I know. It takes two people to lift one of them. It's real (expletive) work."

Then we had a discussion about whether metal thieves were "trying to feed their families" (Juley's take on it) or "addicted to crack." (My take on it) I offered a compromise position: their families were hungry, yes, because of their bread winner's CRACK ADDICTION. I'm not sure if we ever resolved the issue. Meanwhile, Jake of 612 Authentic was capturing our whole discussion on video, though it probably couldn't compete with the footage of a wasp stinging my face when we toured 3022 Lyndale Ave. N. a bit earlier.

(Do not click "Read More")

A Progress Report In Celebration Of National Night Out (Hooker Leaves 3020 6th St. N.)

Photo by John Hoff

Contessa The Hooker has lived at 3020 6th St. N. for a long time, and has been observed apparently picking up johns (lots of them) and (apparently) arranging drug deals...

She was arrested some weeks ago and charged with possession of drug paraphernalia, and some others at 3020 6th St. N. were charged with keeping a disorderly house, according to Inspector Mike Martin of the Fourth Precinct. I keep waiting to see the court cases appear on the City Attorney's website, so I can submit a community impact statement, but no luck yet.

(Note to self: send an email inquiry to City Attorney's Office)

I feel pretty safe calling Contessa a hooker since her landlord called her one while I was having lunch with him, though I didn't blog about it at the time. The landlord said another woman who lives at the house is a hooker, too, but what can he do about it? People need a place to live. This is the line always used by slumlords who fill our neighborhoods with pimps, hookers and drug dealers.

"People need a place to live." It's not so different from industries who fill the air with stink, and then say, "Well, that's the smell of money."

Contessa's pink pants are legendary. She wears them all the time. She wears them almost every day. If those pants could talk, you'd have to censor their sordid tale. You'd have to put those pants in the witness protection program. If you heard the tale those pants could tell, you'd jam your fingers into your ears and say, "Stop! No more! I am losing my faith in humanity."

Preparing Peter's back yard for a National Night Out cook out, we saw Contessa The Hooker moving lots of stuff to a van with help from the man in shades. I told Peter--well, not just Peter--he looks like somebody you'd find on a beach in Thailand, supporting the sex trade. Right then Peter's wife pulled up in the minivan with her three small children, the back of the vehicle packed with groceries for the National Night Out festivities.

I urged Peter not to speak to the guy. Peter did anyway. The conversation didn't go too badly, though. The guy in the shades said he was "an old friend" of Contessa and had known her for a long time. He had a bit of a Southern drawl, it seemed.

"I'm sure he means 'know' in the Biblical sense," I told Peter.

Later, I heard the landlord was mad because I'd been taking pictures.

Progress at 3119 4th St. N.

While me, Peter, Jake, Gabe and Peter, Jr. were walking around the neighborhood with a reporter from National Public Radio, we ran into the guy who takes care of all the vacant buildings in the area. (I think his name is Willie?)

I told him about the gushing water issues at 3119 4th Street, which was news to him. He'd been off for several days.

I asked him about shutting the windows to keep the mold spores inside, since I expected the place to get very moldy due to being soaked inside, and "Patty Cake" who lives next door is quite sensitive to mold. The city worker said he'd look into it. He mentioned there were only a few windows open in the back.

"Well, now there's some open in the front, too, from where they got in," I informed him.

Progress at 2955 Lyndale Ave. N.

I find it unbelievable this place got boarded up THE VERY NEXT DAY after I called 311 and the real estate agent. And, honestly, I don't know who got to it first, though it was a gray-looking city board. In any case, it has been secured.

Now I just need to watch it every day for squatters.

Copper Theft Creates "Water World" Situation at 3119 4th St. N.

Photo by John Hoff

When I house sit at Peter Teachout's home, things at their residence are uneventful but it's the rest of the neighborhoood which ends up needing attention...like the last time I was house sitting and spotted the sex offender moving back into 3024 6th St. N.

We're still dealing with THAT mess.

Well, today was no different...

The neighbor I call "Patty Cake" knew I was house sitting, and she called me about a situation with 3119 4th Street N., now owned by the city and scheduled for demolition but, apparently, no time in the really near future. This morning she noticed a trash can had been pulled up to the front of the house, and a second story window above the trash can was pried open. Since there had been a manhunt in the neighborhood last night with a helicopter and everything, she was afraid somebody was still inside.

The situation was too urgent for 311 but (in this neighborhood) not urgent enough for 911. Oh, sure, the city says to call 911 about this stuff, but that word hasn't filtered down to the dispatchers or the cops on the street. It's NOT urgent and it won't be treated like it is urgent.

THIS IS A JOB FOR JOHNNY NORTHSIDE!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, so I told Patty I'd be right over, but first I had to pop some frozen corn and butter in the microwave, for my 11-year-old. But when I got THAT done I came right over.

Patty Cake was more courageous about going up to the building when another person was there, plus we had Jake and Gabe's video camera. Once we were close to the building we could hear water running inside--a lot of water. Somebody had apparently ripped out pipes. The Polish lady scared us by coming around the corner, so then there were three of us.

Patty called 911 and two police officers came. They said something to the effect REALITY was it's Saturday, and this isn't the only building in Minneapolis with water running inside of it. They offered the opinion the water must be DRAINING, since it wasn't flooding outside the building. I said the water was more likely slowly filling the basement. If nobody was going to go inside, there was no way to prove who was right.

One of them--I probably couldn't remember which one even under hypnosis, and the camera was off, I think, maybe--may have said or hinted something to the effect they wouldn't stop me if I wanted to go inside. The purpose of going inside, of course, would be to find a valve and turn off the water. Well, I was up for that mission, but it would have required a ladder. Patty thought she had a ladder. The Polish woman said her ladder was longer than Patty's.

The officers must have feared it could get ugly, this discussion about whose ladder was bigger and which ladder I would use. They wanted to know why we were so concerned about a building we didn't own, which was going to be knocked down anyway. It's a fair question.

I said something like, "This is our neighborhood. If we don't give a (expletive) about our own neighborhood, who will?" I may have also said, "You don't live here. We do. If nobody will do things for our neighborhood, we're kind of willing to do those things for ourselves."

The Polish woman said, "I have lived here 40 years. I give...a care...about my neighborhood." (She was rephrasing what I said, more delicately, like flowers growing in manure)

The two officers said maybe a police supervisor could advise them about what to do. They made some calls. In the meantime, I called Jeff Skrenes at HACC, who left a message with his regular city contact.

When the police came back, they said somebody had been contacted with the city, who would come out and shut off the water.

They wanted to know if that made us happy. I said it made us very happy, and I would make a point of saying nice things on my blog.

There were a lot of reasons to be concerned. First of all, it's a big waste of water. Second, the building is already apparently full of vermin. Flooding it won't help, at least as far as roaches are concerned. Third, if the entire basement is allowed to fill with water, pumping out all the basement before demolition will be more effort and cost, versus the relatively little effort and cost to simply shut off the water. Fifth, Patty Cake's basement floods even in a minor rainstorm, so a flooded basement next door could create a real mess.

Before leaving, one officer said the Polish woman's house was "the prettiest house on the block."

Update On The Poor Widdle Lost Sex Offender

Minn. Department of Corrections Photo

It turns out Junaid wasn't very far away at all. This weekend I was...

...house sitting at Peter and Joy's residence, chilling out with my kid playing video games most of the time, when I noticed a vehicle pull up in front of 3024 6th Street North, the place where Junaid is registered to live but, apparently, isn't actually there very often.

The building is foreclosed and past the period of redemption, so the official word from the Hawthorne Area Community Council was: "If you see anybody there, they are trespassing, call the cops."

Given the late hour, and how quickly the vehicle killed its lights, I honestly thought it might be a bunch of fixture thieves. (I didn't take them so much for copper thieves, because the vehicle was too new and nice, but more on THAT later, since the situation with the vehicle is a whole new twist) When I saw one of the vehicle occupants entered the house with a key I thought, "Oh, that would be old tenants--perhaps even Junaid--but they're trespassing and therefore, I'll call the cops."

Call the cops I did, and the cops came relatively quickly. I saw them questioning the individuals, mostly the black female who was with the guy who looked like Junaid or his twin brother. The dispatcher called me back and explained: "These are the people who are residents of the house. Unless there is some kind of official paper on the house saying nobody can be there, we're not going to make them leave."

Like a good neighborhood activist, I got on my laptop computer and fired off emails. The next day the same vehicle came again, and I could see Junaid (or his twin brother) was actually MOVING INTO the place where, according to the sex offender locator, he had been all along. Apparently the foreclosure and passing of the redemption period presented some kind of opportunity--low hanging fruit, shall we say?--and Junaid was seizing his chance. (What else would you expect from a child molester?)

So who has Junaid now? It seems like the mortgage company has now become responsible for him as a tenant, though there is apparently no new rental license to cover the change in ownership. One assumes there is a period of time where a transition is allowed, and there is time to get a new license though, honestly, I don't even know if the water is on in that house. Water has been turned off in that house before.

These are things we are dealing with, and the city has been notified. Jeff Skrenes of the Hawthorne Area Community Council is working on it, but for good measure I called 311. The 311 operator read me the name of the former owner from the property registration, and I told her, "No, he is no longer the owner. He might be listed, but the property is foreclosed and past the period of redemption."

The City of Minneapolis may find it a low priority to get property ownership updated in its system, to get deeds registered and so forth, yet it is amazing how often we who are struggling to turn the neighborhood around are thwarted by our inability to find correct and current information on who owns what.

In any case, I got this new problem into the 311 system, I sent out emails, and Jeff Skrenes of HACC is also on top of the situation.

The next day, as Junaid (or his twin brother) and the female (his sister? his girlfriend?) removed stuff from the dark green minivan, I noticed the van was a company vehicle, bearing a prominent company logo. I thought to myself: either the female is using a company vehicle to help a Level 3 Sex Offender move his stuff, or (a much scarier possibility) this company has given Junaid (who kidnapped and sexually assaulted a young female stranger) access to a company vehicle. In this case, a minivan with dark-tinted windows.

Very comforting, that. The choice of vehicle, I mean. (Sarcasm font is broken, I will have to notify you here manually)

I speak as a bleeding heart liberal, here, but in Grand Forks, North Dakota I saw what harm could come of giving a Level 3 sex offender access to a vehicle, even if it's perfectly legal. Alphonso Rodriguez kidnapped and killed Dru Sjodin after his own dear sweet mama gave him a car to go to work.

In fact, I've talked to Bob Heales by email about this situation. Bob is the private investigator who was so involved in coordinating the search for Dru Sjodin's body and still does a lot to raise consciousness about issues involving sex offenders running around loose; like the one who killed Dru Sjodin. Click here for a link to his website.

Heales told me this: "It takes people like you to bring attention to the problem. I'm afraid there are many of these cowards who don't register their correct address. They are a ticking time bomb. The Mary Ann Wowatts (Junaid's supervising officer) of the world need to take the situations more seriously. Level 3s are the most likely to re-offend, and their crimes become increasingly more violent. You have to wonder who is next on his list?"

As somebody who does a lot of commercial driving on the side to make spare cash, I know this well: a vehicle gives you power. It is, in fact, more powerful than a gun. I don't worry about sex offenders getting access to guns. I worry about them getting access to vehicles which they will use to kidnap, transport, flee, etcetera. I don't think Level 3 Sex Offenders should be allowed to drive, at least not until they are completely out of the system through years of compliance with their supervised release. I say this based on what happened to Dru Sjodin.

There, I've said it, and though it makes me look like a red-stater, there it is. Giving a registered sex offender access to a vehicle is worse than handing that person a gun. In this case, the vehicle in question is used for employees to go to many places to make pick-ups and deliveries, and there is no reason places like elementary schools and daycare centers would be excluded.

I contacted the company which has its name on the vehicle with my concerns after getting the license plate and, of course, taking a picture of the vehicle. They sent me a polite email--cc'd to a whole slough of people at the company--and promised to get back to me. Later, they did get back to me. In fact, the CEO got back to me. They are meeting about this matter on Monday. Something was said to the effect Junaid somehow slipped through their background checking system, and the CEO asked me for some info about him.

I was, like, "Google the words 'Minnesota' and 'sex offender' and you'll find links to their names rather quickly, his among them." I'm looking forward to speaking with the CEO on Monday, but it will be mostly academic. They already told me the situation with the vehicle: Junaid owns the vehicle, but their name is on it because he works for their company. As much as I could pick up any tone from brief emails, this much is true: the CEO is not a happy camper. I sure hope nobody's head rolls but Junaid's.

Like I told the CEO: sex offenders are manipulative and deceptive by their very nature.

I can't help but wonder what Junaid told his supervising officer (Mary Ann Mowatt) about his employment situation. Did he tell Mowatt the employer knew he was a Level 3 sex offender? Because that's not what I'm hearing from the employer. And I really don't see how it would be possible to get this particular job without telling at least one fib about having a criminal record. Job applications tend to ask, quite broadly, about stuff like felonies.

Oh, I really must find out the name of the mortgage company. They will be delighted to learn they have a Level 3 Sex Offender living at a property they own, and apparently no rental license. Will they run out and get a rental license just to help dear sweet Junaid keep a roof over his sex offender head?

I kind of doubt it.

That house at 3024 6th Street North is supposed to be vacant. Nobody--including a piece of crap Level 3 sex offender--is supposed to be living there.

It's my neighborhood, and I am on it. I don't take any pleasure in it. In fact, I sincerely think sex offenders, if they are going to be allowed to be paroled, should have useful jobs mopping floors and washing dishes. I don't delight in it, but like I once inadvertently blurted out to Jeff Skrenes:

"Somebody needs to break a few omelets to make some eggs around here."

Victory On My Northern Perimeter (Photo 3)

Photo By John Hoff

Detail of a window on 416 31st Ave. N.

The former tenants (or their relatives/associates) didn't leave enough aluminum on the exterior to make a Pepsi can as they scavenged and stripped metal scrap on the way out.

(Do not click "Read More")

Victory On My Northern Perimeter (Photo 1)

Photo by John Hoff

The saga of 416 31st had, more or less, a good ending...

The tenants (and I hesitate to give them that level of dignity) stripped the aluminum window frames as they were leaving. Somebody in the neighborhood called the landlord to say "They're wrecking your house even more than they already have" but by the time the landlord arrived, the tenants had made off with not only aluminum window frames but (reportedly) copper pipes from the basement.

The Polish woman was up all night, wondering if the house right next door might explode like some houses do when gas pipes are ripped out. In response to being called, the city came out--the very next day, no less!--and inspected the place, and boarded it up.

Later, word came the woman who lived at the property claimed she'd moved out a few days before. Good heavens, she had no idea who the strangers were who (for goodness sakes!) got into the house and made off with pipes and window frames. Yet one of the people involved in the stripping of scrap metal was recognized as the woman's son, well known in the neighborhood as a bad character.

The landlord was reportedly apologetic to at least one neighborhood person who spoke to her by phone, and said eviction hadn't happened more quickly because she was ill, and unable to stay on top of much of anything. Whatever. The landlord has clearly paid a heavy penalty for renting to criminally-inclined people, including the loss of her plumbing fixtures.

The landlord reportedly promised she would get the jungle-like lawn mowed, which featured burdock two feet high when I checked it a couple days ago. Unwilling to take the landlord at her word--convinced she has a history of telling whoppers--I called 311 to report the overgrown lawn.

I told the Polish lady, "One way or another, it will get mowed."

The Polish lady is not entirely excited about the impending mowing. The weeds are incredibly high, and the mower will certainly throw extensive clippings into her carefully-manicured garden. Standing there speaking to the Polish lady, I saw (and, um, ate) a dark purple columbine flower. I'd never seen purple columbine before, let alone eaten one. Her garden is amazing, and all the more amazing because she does so much in so little space.

Oh, in regard to eating columbine flowers...

One doesn't eat the whole flower. You nip the sweet, honey-like buds off the top. My mother taught me to do this when she was a child, and she learned it from her own Czechoslovakian grandfather. When I was a kid, I would sometimes find a big columbine plant and just graze until all the flowers were gone.

The Polish lady didn't say anything about the way I ate one of her flowers but just then I noticed some graffiti on 407 31st, and I said I was going to take care of it, RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT, before I left town to pick up a little money doing a job. I had spray paint in the trunk. So I took care of it, and then I left for a couple days to pick up cargo and visit relatives.

Vacant And Unsecured Building Response: St. Paul Versus Minneapolis (Photos 3 And 4)

Photos by John Hoff

Officers went to 503 Asbury, hoping to catch the fleeing copper thief, but he couldn't be located. The contractor stood by to give an eyewitness identification, if necessary, like the extremely good citizen he happens to be.

There was some hope a security camera could have captured an image of the thief, but I'm not sure if that happened.

The incident must have been quite upsetting to the folks at the group home but what I wonder is this:

How did the thief know he could get inside that building and be safe?

(Do not click "Read More")

Vacant And Unsecured Building Response: St. Paul Versus Minneapolis (Photo Two)

Here, two loyalists to the "Mr. Clean" look attempt to explain to the young St. Paul officer in the middle the advantage of being bald when, for example, you are grappling with a violent suspect who might try to grab you by the hair.

No, seriously, the guy in the white shirt is the contractor who came to secure the M&L Motors Building (in a mere 20 or 25 minutes after my 911 call) and surprised a copper thief cutting gas pipes. He's explaining what happened to the officers.

(Do not click "Read More")

Vacant And Unsecured Building Response: St. Paul Versus Minneapolis (Photo One)

Photo by John Hoff

A recent incident in St. Paul gave me an opportunity to compare that city's response to vacant, unsecured buildings with similar situations in Minneapolis.

I've always considered Minneapolis superior to St. Paul in almost every category of human endeavor, but what I observed first-hand really made me reassess my outlook...

Bottom line, in case you don't have time to wade through the whole story: St. Paul sends a guy out RIGHT AWAY to secure a building, and this time that guy walked in on a copper thief PREPARING TO CUT OUT THE GAS PIPES and chased him a few blocks.

(But he got away)

In Minneapolis, it takes 5 or 6 weeks to get a building secured. So, in the meantime, "bye bye copper."

Now here is the long version of the story...

Ever since Gopher Laundromat closed (weep, wail, mourn) I do my laundry at "Spin Cycle" in St. Paul. For the last year or so, while waiting for my laundry to get done, it has been my habit to walk around outside and paint over graffiti in the alley behind the old M&L Motors Building, which has long been vacant. (It beats sitting around reading frayed copies of Good Housekeeping and watching the hypnotic red towel go round and round and round and...)

No, I didn't ask anybody for permission. I don't need no stinking permission. I just painted over the graffiti, like my hero Ed Kohler. And I'm not the only one who was doing it, judging by what I saw in the alley. Somebody long ago gave up on trying to match paint, even hitting white walls with PURE BLACK in open, bare-knuckle war against the taggers. Who wouldn't want to jump into THAT?

Hi, I'm Johnny Do-Gooder

A few months ago, there were some workmen in the building. I introduced myself to the foreman and explained how "some of us" go around painting over graffiti. (Meaning me and whoever else was doing it in that alley, who knows?) I wanted to know if it would be OK to continue my volunteer graffiti abatement activity, now that somebody was here I could actually ASK.

The foreman said that would be fine. He had the contract for the interior but was hoping to get the contract for the exterior. He figured he had enough authority to give some random neighborhood do-gooder permission to do something which made perfectly good sense, for no monetary charge.

After this conversation, (and waiting for my clothes to dry) I actually ran to Menards to buy some paint of a matching color and I took care of some graffiti on the wood over the boarded-up windows, in order to "nail down my permission."

Sudden, Shocking Destruction

The very next time I did laundry...and, well, it was almost a month later because I was busy and had plenty of clean clothing...I was shocked to see the M&L Motors Building had been gutted in a fire. The smell of the fire was still strong, and pigeons were making forays into the windows. The productive, optimistic foreman was gone.

After that, the building became quite a problem. On one occasion, boards were pried off the windows in the front. I called it in and an officer showed up right away to make a report. I told him I had a hammer and nails in the trunk of my car, and I could secure the window. The officer hesitated to give me the go-ahead. I pressed my point, resting on the thin grant of permission I had to take care of graffiti, and saying, "If the owner of the property himself were standing here, don't you think he'd be grateful for me to go ahead and hammer a few nails in to secure that window?"

"Fine," the officer said. "Go nuts."

An Ongoing Problem Building

Sometimes after driving around on the North Side looking for prostitutes and drug dealers to call in to 911 ("patrolling," I call it) I'll drive around St. Paul's Midtown and Frog Town a little, especially if I haven't had much luck at my "regular fishing holes" in North Minneapolis.

I always go through the alley behind M&L Motors, looking for fresh tagging, and if I see any fresh tagging, I hit it with paint.

About two weeks ago, the doorway behind M&L was swinging open in the breeze. My cell phone battery was dead, so I approached a cop working security nearby at Rainbow Foods and made a report. I decided the building was becoming a problem, so I contacted Ward 4 City Council Member Russ Stark.

It was either later that day or the very next day when I had some laundry to take care of at Spin Cycle, and as per my well-established habit, I went in the alley to paint over any graffiti. I was hardly surprised to see the alley door open AGAIN. A new hasp had been installed on the door, but was now pried off. On the ground, there was a bike lock, cut in half. The bike lock appeared unrelated to the security of the door. It was just THERE.

Apologies to 911 (No Apologies Necessary)

I opened the door and stuck my head inside, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The building was burned, gutted. I think I heard pigeon wings. Nothing out of the ordinary. I actually apologized to the 911 operator, saying I didn't have the non-emergency number for the St. Paul police department.

She said "We also direct the non-emergency calls." I described the situation and gave the cross streets since I didn't know the address of the building by heart. I said a few things about the ongoing problems.

It must have been 45 minutes later when I walked back outside with my laundry. There were two squad cars in the alley, and some civilian with a work truck. I caught part of their conversation about "chasing" somebody out of the building. At some point, I quietly introduced myself and explained my minor role of calling 911 about the unsecured door.

Copper Thieves Are A Menace To Society

The bald officer, pictured above, asked me detailed questions about what I had seen and when. He wanted the whole story of the building, everything I knew. He seemed a bit surprised at all the effort I poured into watching the M&L Motors Building as a side project while doing laundry, but he readily accepted my explanation of being an involved citizen who normally does this kind of thing in North Minneapolis, and blogs about it.

"Keeping an eye on this building is like my little hobby while I do laundry," I explained.

Near the door, the bald cop spotted the pried off padlock and part of the hasp on the ground near the bike lock. I hadn't seen those in the dirt, before.

"You found a clewwwwwwwwwww," I laughed.

He just frowned. Nothing funny about a pried-off padlock.

I managed to piece together the story as I snapped pictures, which I explained to the officer were for my blog. www.johnnynorthside.com. About 20 or 25 minutes after my 911 call, a guy with a blue pickup truck (sporting the same "Mr. Clean" look as the senior officer) had come out to secure the building. He was not a cop, but some kind of contractor working for the city. He went inside the check the building--I wasn't clear if he heard something of if he was just being Chuck Norris--and surprised a copper thief in the very act of preparing to cut gas pipes.

I say again, GAS PIPES.

I didn't catch much of the description of the thief, except he had dirty shoes. The thief had dropped or left a backpack, which was covered in dusty filth, and the bald contractor presented it to the officer like a bloody trophy of the conflict. The contractor--who apparently attended the same school of "aggressively good citizenship" as me--chased after the thief and pursued him down the street.

I remember him saying "a few blocks" but the thief ended up at 503 Asbury, which is only one block away. (I got the sense the thief may have doubled back) I also seem to have heard something about how the thief yelled, "You run pretty good for an old man!"

The cops went over to 503 Asbury and surrounded the building, which was some kind of adult group home. The folks in charge of the building were at a loss what to do, and had to make calls to their "director." There was some speculation about whether a security camera in the building may have captured an image of the copper thief, but it wasn't looking hopeful.

At one point there were four squad cars and a car from Wolf Protective Services. Citizens gathered on the sidewalk, wanting to know what was up. I told them, but my story produced disappointment. Four squad cars? For a guy stealing pipes? Must be a slow day. Police must not have anything better to do. I made a stirring verbal defense of the police, and called copper thieves "a menace" who "cause buildings to explode."

A Critique of Minneapolis

At some point I had a conversation with the bald guy who had arrived to board up the door. I told him how amazed I was to see a building secured within the hour, when it takes five or six weeks in Minneapolis, if it gets secured at all.

The bald guy said he knew the situation all-too-well. He claimed to have helped personally write the "specs" which became the Minneapolis boarding contract. He said something about how the people currently boarding buildings were not in complete compliance with "the specs."

"Well," I offered. "All I know is you were out here right away to secure that building, and in Minneapolis it takes forever. Thanks to you, those copper pipes are still in that building. In Minneapolis, they'd be converted to money for crack by now."

Phil Kleindl Announces His Mayoral Bid On "The Block" And Much More!

Photo by John Hoff, a house on Emerson Ave. N.

My mechanic said the police were looking for me, yesterday. They had spotted my car and wondered when I would be coming by. Obviously this made my mechanic rather curious...

...but I just said, "I write a lot of things on my blog. I guess some of the things I've said are a bit critical, like the slow 911 response times on the North Side. They wanted to talk to me. But don't worry, one of them got in touch with me yesterday. We had a nice talk."

He said Highland Auto Tire didn't share any information about me, their valued customer, with the police. This was the young mechanic, not the one who served during the Vietnam War, whose picture adorned the wall.

"It's not a problem," I said. "If the police ask you for information about me, go ahead and give it to them. I'm not a criminal."

The dog's name is "lunch" and the mechanic worked for the CIA

A little pit bull was yapping at me in the waiting room. I asked what it's name was.

"Lunch!" the mechanic said, laughing.

"That's a pit bull, isn't it?" I said. "You shouldn't eat a pit bull. Too expensive. Better to go with something like a black lab. Those things are cheap as dirt."

My joke seemed to play well. I told him I once ate dog in Mexico, while I was young and religious and doing missionary work.

"They cooked it with some green olives," I explained. "Tasted like pork."

Contrary to popular myth, not all strange meat "tastes like chicken." Crocodile, for example, tastes a lot like fish.

"So," I asked the older mechanic, who had come into the room, "What was your job in the military?"

"I was a medic," he answered. "I was also an assistant to a captain. Not like a secretary, but his actual assistant."

"Wow," I said, suitably impressed. "Yeah, I was in the army. I did most of my time in Fort Bliss, Texas."

This did not impress him even a little. He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head, looked at me intently and said, "I did work for the CIA. The CIA located my whole family here to the United States. I didn't have to pay anything."

"Wow," I said. What else can you say?

A mayoral announcement from the seat of a pickup truck

I saw Pat Kleindl in front of 400 31st Ave. N., the one which will have to fend off the bulldozer. He told me he got that house for $6,500. I asked what he would take for it. I pressed, I cajoled, but he wasn't naming his price. He sat in his pick-up, smoking a cigarette. I asked if he was "packing" today. He said he'd left his pistol in his other vehicle.

"I heard an interesting quote yesterday at the neighborhood meeting," I said. "Some guy was buying up old houses in Detroit. He said 'I feel like I'm driving around in my car, shoveling diamonds into my trunk.' Now is the time to buy, huh?"

Kleindl smiled his cagey smile. At some point he told me he was running for Mayor.

"Really?" I said. "As what? Constitutional Party? Libertarian? Maybe a Republican?"

Somehow I just knew Kleindl wasn't a Democrat or a Green. Call it a hunch.

"Whatever it was Jessee Ventura ran as," he explained. "What do you call that?"

"Independent?" I offered.

"Yeah, I'll run as an independent," he said.

You heard it here first on www.johnnynorthside.com

Maintain order, and perhaps things will go better

I spoke to a short, thin black lady out in front of 3119 4th Ave., the other apartment complex once owned by Shirley Guevara. Rumor fresh as of an hour ago says the mysterious "Castlerock" entity has gone around trying to collect rents AGAIN. Previous rumor said some folks had paid their rents to "Greg from Castle Rock."

I'm sure reality is a complicated mess, however. Maybe somebody paid. Maybe others made promises. Maybe checks bounced. Who knows? Rumors of the shake down continue. If I see "Castle Rock," I will make gentle inquiries.

No, really. You catch more flies with honey. Jeff Skrenes reminded me of this, recently.

The lady by 3119 had a small dog (a black lab, actually, which was eerie) and was reluctant to say anything to me at first. "Don't know," she said a couple of times, but she seemed more at ease when I said, "Ma'am, you understand Shirley Guevara can't be collecting rents from you? I was at a neighborhood meeting, and there was a lot of discussion there about Shirley's two apartment complexes. Maybe you'd like to know some of what was said?"

The dog jumped into my open car door. She hauled it out by the scruff of the neck, apologizing. I think it was sniffing at the dried banana snack food I purchased at Bangkok Market. Yes, she said, please...what could I tell her?

I explained city officials were not happy about the situation at these apartments, and wanted to help the people here, but "the way it was headed" it would be best to look hard at finding another place as soon as possible.

"I know that's hard to hear," I said, as her shoulders sagged. "But you can't be in denial or refuse to face reality. That seems to be the way this is headed."

Pointing out I didn't have any authority, but had merely heard what was said at the meeting, I urged her to maintain order and cleanliness at her apartment complex, and to urge others to do the same, and perhaps the city might be "more merciful" if they saw people were "cleaning up and trying to maintain order."

She eagerly told me she'd hauled bags of trash out of the back yard at 3119 4th all on her own initiative. I nodded. The front yard, what I could see of it, looked pretty decent. I told her the situation over at 3101 was a real problem, though. The back yard was simply full of garbage. It wouldn't hurt to say something to the people over there, if she knew some of them. Really, it wouldn't hurt one bit to tell those folks to clean up and maintain order, and to not allow young men to congregate in the stairwell at 3 in the morning.

All the same, I said, none of these things might make any difference. Best to prepare for the worst.

She asked if I had any more information, anything at all. I didn't. Her face looked no more and no less worried than when she had first seen me. I noticed how much gold was in her mouth when she tried to smile. One can't help but think of stories of skulls, pirates, graves.

I went over to 3101 to see if I could find somebody hanging around who looked responsible (or less irresponsible) to transmit my message of common sense:

A meeting happened. I was there, I witnessed it. For god's sake, maintain cleanliness and order in this building, even if it seems like nobody is in charge. The city is watching and making its judgments. Figure out where to go if it comes down to it, which it probably will.

On the one hand, I really want "the block" cleaned up and the apartment complex at 3101 has been a hotbed of prostitution and drug dealing for years, according to numerous individuals. On the other hand, these are all human beings who only seek to survive and keep the rain off their heads.

The law should be tempered with mercy. I can't help but think of the folks at 416 30th, who did indeed steal electricity from my building in the moments before my finalized ownership, but who were routed in a period of a few hours, the bikes of the children thrown in a heap to become scrap metal.

I'd heard a name at the meeting. The name of the tenant who stood up to Shirley, who rallied the other tenants into a united front, who was rewarded with a brick through the window. I didn't even know if it was a real name. I wasn't sure if it was THIS apartment complex or the other one.

But I parked in front of 3101 6th Street, and a tall young black man walked up.

My electricity thief confesses

"I'm looking for (name withheld)," I explained. "I heard (withheld) is the person sort of in charge at this apartment, sort of."

"Hey, ain't you the guy who wanted to buy my van?" he answered.

Oh my word. It was the "purple van guy" who lived at 416 30th Ave. N. before the "booting and boarding." I'd helped to cause that whole episode because of the outrageous electricity theft from my property. I had also been willing to buy his van for $750, figuring he desperately needed the money for a new place to live, and I needed the van. It's documented in the all-too-amusing videos from Minn Post Dot Com.

But a week or two ago, he'd jacked the price to $1,500 after some repairs, or so he claimed to have made repairs. I'd called to see about buying the van, but also to feel things out and see if he was gunning for me over the "loose juice controversy."

He was firm on the price and concerned about no other issues. He actually hung up on me when I said the repairs he'd put into the vehicle were good, but hardly worth an increase from $750 to $1,500.

There it had ended, except I figured he was crawling into the second story window of 416 30th with great frequency, using the garbage can to get on the porch roof, sleeping inside.

"Well," I answered, carefully. "You wanted $1,500. That's too much."

"I've cut the price," he said. "I'll take $600. I put the wrong kind of gas in it, and there's a problem with the fuel filter."

"So it won't run?" I asked. "Have you replaced the filter?"

"I took it out," he explained. "But I haven't replaced it."

I had been spectacularly unimpressed with his mechanical knowledge when I talked to him before, and this is coming from somebody who is the subject of open mockery from my all-too-mechanical little brother. For one thing, when I checked the oil on his purple van, it was overfilled. I had tried to explain overfilling oil on a vehicle may not be as bad as neglecting to fill it at all, but it's still bad. (All credit to my little brother, who explained this to me more than once while angrily waving a dipstick in my face)

It's not like the vehicle will just excrete it out, I explained, like when you and I drink too much Coca-Cola. This was news to him. What else had he screwed up on the vehicle, I wondered?

He said the van was parked nearby. We could go look at it. I thought of being murdered, of course.

"I'll have to wait on that," I said. "Maybe when my brother is up here. Maybe we could have it towed to the mechanic and figure out what is wrong with it. Hey, didn't you used to live over there at 416 30th Ave. N? That place is all boarded up, now."

"The bank foreclosed on it," he explained. He proceeded to say his landlord was scum, that nothing was ever fixed at the house and, furthermore, he had been cheated on his lease. I could name his landlords, at least by their first names, and I agreed they were scum and had a bunch of buildings in foreclosure. He spoke of the woman landlord as though she was not in a coma at all, contrary to some reports I'd heard, as though she was up and about and was known to drive a blue van. (Which, he said, had been in the area today)

His demeanor was friendly, respectful. He looked at me and said, "I had to live in that place. Only-est thing I ever did that I shouldn't was wire up to another house to get electricity, because she [the landlord] let the power go out."

I thought to myself he knows more than he is letting on. He is trying to get across the point that I'm alright with him, there are no hard feelings, even if I was involved in calling in about the electricity theft from, well, MY HOUSE THAT HE BROKE INTO THROUGH THE BACK WINDOW.

Or he wants to make me trust him, lure me somewhere and murder me.

One or the other, I figured. I had it pretty well narrowed down.

"That's terrible you had to do that," I said. "But you gotta do what you gotta do to live."

He said he didn't know the folks in 3101 6th Street North. It was a bad place, he said. All the time people were dealing drugs in there. I looked into the building and saw somebody standing just inside the doorway, a young woman, peering out fearfully at our conversation.

I figured "word gets around" and it was best to transmit my message of "social responsibility in the void of needful authority." I told him the way things were headed, the city might boot everybody out of the apartment complex...but if folks tried to keep it clean and maintain order, they'd probably be dealt with better. Not that I was anybody with authority, but I'd been at the neighborhood meeting and I knew what I heard.

Oh, and nobody should give money to Shirley, who no longer owned the building, and furthermore it was past the period of foreclosure redemption. People should call the police if Shirley or somebody acting on her behalf came around like that. Don't take matters into your own hands. Call the police.

He again denied knowing anybody in the building. As I drove away, I saw him walking toward the apartment complex in my rear view mirror.

MPD Intercepts (Probable) Scrap Metal Thieves

Here's the one picture I took of the police interaction with the scrap metal thieves (alleged). Photo is taken from behind the wall of Bangkok Market. One of the guys must be in the back of the car, the other one is talking to the officer (in blue) and you can just kind of see handle of the baby buggy which they were using to cart the metal.

It's not a good photo. But I think it has a certain expressive quality.

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