The Power of One-to-One Connections

This is a follow-up to my story about assisting Chandan, a young man who had never lived in his own place, was not employed and needed help caring for his 3-year-old daughter. For more on the original story, read here for the beginning and here for the unfortunate ending.

There are so many lessons to be learned in this experience. The biggest one I'll be adhering to is to donate to organizations instead of to the people those organizations are helping, unless it's someone I personally know and trust. But there are other, smaller, more hopeful lessons to be learned. Truly, every day that someone reached out to me to ask what Chandan needed or made a donation to the GoFundMe campaign, my heart filled with gratitude. 

I learned that people genuinely want to help others in need. One of the reasons why the fundraiser for Chandan was so successful was because all of the donations were helping one person who shared his story. The need was clear, the impact of giving was obvious. In the Twin Cities there's an organization called Bridging that basically does exactly what my donation drive was doing: provides furniture and household goods to people coming out of homelessness into housing. People donated furniture to my request and not to Bridging. Why? Because mine was going to a single person with a face, a name and a story that they could understand.

I also was surprised by the number of people who, when the donations fell through, asked for their donations back. I'm not saying they are greedy, my point is that they weren't going to give these things away in the first place. They were inspired by his story and chose to give away items that they intended to use themselves.

Some more incredible stories of generosity that inspired me in the past few weeks:

• A woman shared the story of having to escape an abusive situation early in her life. She was able to do so thanks to the generosity of complete strangers who supported her after she got to a safe place. She considered her donations as a way to pay back for the kindness shown to her years before.
• One person had thousands of Amazon points in her account. She used the points to buy a brand new, adorable bedding set for his daughter, new kitchen supplies, cleaning supplies, a hamper, and other items that people experiencing homelessness usually don't own. She was happy to be able to use the points to help someone else when she could have used them for her own family.
• Someone reached out to me after the donation drive had been going for a while to ask what was still missing. I had secured dining room chairs but not a table. She went to a local Goodwill, purchased a table for $50 and her husband refinished it for Chandan's apartment. The labor of love that went into this was so inspiring! When the donation fell through, they decided to keep the table and will use it as a card table in their basement. 
• One of the donors runs her own company staging houses for sale. She has a garage and basement filled with furniture, small appliances, household goods and other items that have never actually been used, just displayed and then put back in storage. It struck me how she owns nearly two households worth of goods while people in other areas of our city don't even have one. I'm not faulting her for her company or what she does, it's simply another example of the difference between the "haves" and the "have nots." 

When our house was remodeled in 2016 we made a significant donation to Bridging, getting rid of furniture that was perfectly good, just no longer needed. One of the workers who came to pick up the items said, "Wow, this stuff is in really good shape. This is better than the furniture we usually get."

People in my community put decent furniture like ours on the curb for solid waste pick-up every week, while people in other areas of this city would love to have that piece of furniture in their home, yet they don't have the transportation to retrieve it. For many of my friends and family, making a $100 donation to help someone out is no big deal, while for someone else, an extra $100 means they don't have to choose between rent or food that month. 

I've done a lot of learning about the history of Minneapolis, about how white people kept Blacks out of the desirable areas in Southwest Minneapolis using racial covenants and redlining practices and how BIPOC folks were given little choice but to live in what is now the notoriously poor North side. The disparity between the resources of North side and the wealth of the Southwest area is staggering. I have to believe that there is a way to make a direct connection between those with excess to give with those in need.

I'm not going to be fundraising for a single person again, but I will be reaching out to organizations working in the North side neighborhoods to see how I can help make connections to people in my area of the city. There's got to be a way we can do more to help people in my own city. 

A Pilgrimage

I've now been down to 38th & Chicago many times now since May 25th, the last day of George Floyd's life.

It feels important to do. I don't know how to feel every time I go, which is why I go often.

The community has blocked off the intersection by a block in every direction — no police in sight, citizens can manage this themselves, thank you very much. Depending on which direction you enter it from, your car could be stopped by pieces of art, by concrete blocks, or by cars parked sideways across the intersection, music blasting from the stereo.

At each entrance you'll find volunteers at a tent, handing out masks and spraying hand sanitizer on each visitor. We are in the midst of a pandemic, after all.

Today, I visited with my husband and both girls and we first visited the "#SayTheirNames Cemetery," an art installation a block away, in a green space that was previously empty. This art was created by two Penn State students and is made of tombstones of every Black person who lost their lives at the hands of the police. It is devastatingly large and not complete. While there I emailed one of the artists (per their sign) and gave a couple of names to add to it, the most recent killing happening just this past Friday.

"#SayTheirNames" Cemetery, 37th & Park Ave, Mpls

From there, we walked the half-block to 38th & Chicago. You don't need the signs at each entrance reminding you that you're entering a sacred place, and to be respectful of brown and black people who may be in mourning. You don't need that reminder, you can feel it.

The street is covered with the names of Blacks who lost their lives at the hands of the police and have not received justice. The names stretch across faded yellow dotted lines that used to direct cars along the streets which are now only traveled by foot. An oblivious person was walking over the names and someone else asked him to move off of them and walk alongside. It was the respectful thing to do.

We came to the corner where George lost his life. The place on the street where he died has been painted, his body filled in with blue paint, wings unfolding from his shoulders as he ascends to heaven. The area where he died is marked off by red velvet rope and entirely lined with flowers upon flowers upon flowers, signs and letters to George strewn among the decaying flora.

Around the corner is the beautiful blue mural that was painted just a couple of days after his death. Marissa and I were visiting while the artists were painting it. I have visited here when the flowers were so thick on the sidewalk that visitors had to take to the street. Now, the decaying and dead flowers from three weeks ago have been removed and a new layer of fresh flowers lain down by visitors, though everyone respectfully keeps their distance and gazes upon it from afar.

This particular piece of art hurt my heart the most. These are George's final words. All of them.

Tents are set up throughout by various groups. I purchased t-shirts from black business owners who are raising money to re-build their barber shop and the salon next door which were both damaged in the ensuing riots. There was a tent set up in the parking lot of the Speedway to register people to vote, one of few ways that people in these neighborhoods can take back their power.

The previous day I was in this same area, working the "Recall Freeman" tent to collect signatures to recall Hennepin County DA Mike Freeman, who was waiting for "more evidence" before charging the officers with George Floyd's death. The only evidence he could have been waiting for was that exonerating the police officers, as the public had already seen the overwhelming evidence of their guilt.

The center of the intersection has a large sculpture of a black fist raised up to the sky, surrounded by flowers and art. Art upon art upon art upon art. The street was filled with the original graffiti after his death, of people writing "murder," and "f12," and "say his name" directly on the pavement. And then this was supplanted by statues, murals, other art that overtook the graffiti.

Stunning art of George Floyd made up the protest signs his death inspired.

Black grief is not quiet. It is loud. It is sometimes profane. It is undeniable. It is contagious.

Each time I visit, I see something new. I talk to people and nod and pay respect to people who, outside of this sacred space, I may not have felt comfortable approaching. I've had conversations with people all of creeds and colors in this space and we are all there together, with a singular mission: to honor George Floyd's life, and to ensure that his death was not in vain, that his will be the one that will change our society forever.

Living in Two Different Cities

I'm sitting in my backyard with the fire pit burning, a dog snuggled up next to me and the quiet sounds of urban wildlife settling down for the night. The sun is slowly setting, we can see it through the little window where our trees open up to the west.

5/30/2020, 9 p.m., Fulton neighborhood, Minneapolis 

A family having a birthday celebration earlier today at Bde Maka Ska.

Three blocks from us, our local shops are boarded up. The grocery store closed at 5 p.m., the liquor store closed last night at 6:30 p.m. and will not re-open until Tuesday. 

The jewelry store down the street is also boarded up and the message "all jewelry has been removed from the premises" spray-painted across the plywood.

Jewelry store at 50th & France.

On one of the businesses at 50th & France.

Our Walgreens, the one where Beauty is so beloved by all the staff members, was broken into two nights ago. One of their doors is covered with plywood. They are open for business because people need their prescriptions, but they, too, closed early.

It feels like the calm before the storm. 

Our family is feeling helpless — we wish we could do more, so we started looking around to see how we could help. Local food shelves are now serving families whose local grocery stores were damaged or are closed anticipating violence. A Minneapolis public school in the 3rd precinct, where all this began, needs help getting food to their low-income families who would normally still be getting free lunch food. So Lindsey and I wrote down the list of what they needed and decided to buy the items, put together the food bags and drop them off tomorrow.

The line at our local Lund's of people waiting to go in to shop was out the door. The grocery store was closing early and still limiting the number of people in the store due to social distancing. So we decided to drive further out, to Bloomington, to shop for these families in need.

The store in Bloomington was also closing at 5; we got there around 3:30 p.m. The lines to check out snaked all the way to the back of the store. It took us two hours to get the groceries needed that we'll donate, as well as the few we needed for ourselves. 

One woman was there to get grocery for her sister, since her sister lives in the area of the protests and can't get to a store. Another was stocking up just in case the store there was a target too and she wouldn't be able to get groceries later on. And then there were people like us, who thought that driving to Bloomington was far enough away for us to avoid a crowd. Silly us.

The line to check out at Cub Foods in Bloomington.

It is so frustrating that just as our businesses were opening back up,after months of being closed due to the pandemic, they are closing again due to civil unrest. Salons that were going to be opening on Monday aren't any more, nor are the restaurants and bars that were set to open June 1. This could send some small business owners over the edge financially. 

All Minneapolis residents are under curfew start at 8 p.m. It is estimated that 10,000 agitators from out-of-state are in our city now, causing chaos and using this unrest as a cover for looting and destroying our city. In today's press conference, Mayor Melvin Carter of St. Paul said that of the 120 arrests that took place in St. Paul last night, 100% of them were from out-of-town. Gov. Walz says that their surveillance is estimating that 80% of the protestors are not from here, many from known white supremist groups. 

I am saddened by what is happening, moreso because we seem to go through this cycle every few years. Brutal murder, followed by outrage, followed by a promise for change, followed by a slipping back to old ways, followed by a brutal murder. And the fact that white supremacists are using this opportunity to besmirch the work of the black community legitimately protesting yet another unjustified death in this country angers me to no end.

I hope for peace. I hope for change. I hope for equality for all and protection under the law.

More later. Thank you for reading.

High Density Housing ≠ Highly Affordable Housing

This is a complicated issue, I'll try to make it brief. So the reader knows I'm not talking out of my ass without making this the length of a novel, I'm using lots of links to referring material.

The city of Minneapolis recently approved a 20-year growth plan called "Minneapolis 2040." It sets a vision for the city of Minneapolis in terms of housing, transportation, living-wage jobs and more, all with an underlying goal of eliminating disparities in our city.

Eliminating disparities?

You know how you drive through one neighborhood and it looks "tough," and you know you wouldn't want to be caught walking down the street after dark there, and you go to another neighborhood and it's got beautifully manicured lawns and luxurious homes? The disparity in which people of color tend to live in the first neighborhood described, whites in the second?

THAT disparity, which was brought about by redlining, which as recently as 50 years ago allowed people to discriminate on the basis of race, not allowing people of color to buy homes in certain areas of the city. This was further strengthened by zoning some areas as single-family and others as high-density, meaning that even if you had the "right" color skin you had to have the means to pay for a larger home. Which, people of color didn't tend to have back then, due to discrimination in job accessibility, transportation to those jobs, etc. There's a lot to fix.

Don't get me started on that weird jog in Interstate 94 that occurs in Minneapolis, either.

I am ALL FOR eliminating disparities. I would WELCOME varied housing in my area, I would VALUE sending my children to a school that is not 85% white.

The main ways in which Minneapolis is addressing this is to eliminate zone housing, making some neighborhoods single-family and others high-density. They would like to see a variety of densities spread across the city, so that people of varying income levels can live in many different areas of the city. The idea is that an apartment is more affordable than a duplex which is more affordable than a house, and if they're all on the same street then people of varying income levels can live there. It sounds great, but in practice, already it is not working.

Take these two homes, for instance. Caveat: they are not in Minneapolis, they are in Edina, but across the street from Minneapolis, and are a great example of how people interpret "high-density."

These are both duplexes. The first was built in the 1950's, the second was built in 2017 and sold in January 2018. The second was built on the site of a cute 1950's bungalow, which lives on in Google Streets memory.

Hey everybody, high-density housing! Surely they are both affordable, right?

According to the listing for the 1950's duplex, it rents for $1,495/month for a 1,350 sq ft. duplex. The latter, built in 2017, is 3,049 sq ft and was sold for $866,000. Zillow estimates that the rent for this duplex is $3,152/month.

On paper, they are both duplexes. In practice, they are wildly different. As a matter of fact, the home that was torn down to make room for the monstrous duplex was valued at $353,000 prior to being razed, an incredibly affordable home in Edina.

The best part? These two are right next to each other. You can see the disparity in size in this photo:

I bet that little duplex is missing the sunlight it used to get from its eastern exposure. No more sunrises for you, little guy!

The same thing is already happening in Minneapolis in light of the move toward high-density housing across the city.

Take, for instance, Ewing Place Apartments, being built just three blocks from us at the corner of Ewing and 51st Street.

Architect's rendering of Ewing Place, currently under construction.

Here's what used to be there:

Three little houses, all in a row.

Awww, aren't they cute?! The perfect starter home for a couple. Check out this cute little guy:

Seriously! One bedroom, one bath, 544 sq feet, built in 1920. So cute! It was sold in 2001 for $105,000.

The person who purchased that home in 2001 also purchased the other two next to it, and they were all rentals. Various families and couples would rent for a time, and he sold all three to a developer who tore them all down to build the coming Ewing Place apartments.

So...how affordable will these places be once the "high-density" housing is available?

According to the website for Ewing Place, they will rent you a 709 sq ft one-bedroom apartment for $1,935 per month. The largest floorplan available with 1,355 sq ft will rent for $3,618 per month.

So, let me get this straight:

We removed THREE tiny little houses, all renting very affordably, to build a high-density apartment building, with rental rates THREE TIMES that of the original homes?

Got it.

I understand the goals of the plan, truly I do, and I also want the same thing, but I do not believe that the changes that were made will have the desired impact. High density does not equal highly affordable. Not to mention the loss of history of homes that were approaching 100 years of age.

There's more, much much more, but I will save that for another blog post.

Middlemoon Creek Walk

Just south and west of us is a creek that runs through a neighborhood from Lake Harriet. It's a part of the chain of lakes and is maintained by the city. But for one magical weekend in the winter, the neighbors take over.

Residents in this area began decorating the path along the creek with ice sculptures. It started out small — balloons that are filled with water, frozen and the balloon popped. Ice in a bucket that is turned upside down. Then it got a bit more elaborate.

Now it is a magical walk of all kinds of sculptures, lit with candles from the inside, protected from the snow and wind that would extinguish them. So my camera and I went for a stroll.

There were elaborate altars of ice, decorated with candles and lit from inside. There was an incredible miniature castle, about the height of a four-year-old who stared at it in amazement.  The path was lit with little balls of icy light. Snow was falling steadily, making streetlamps in the area hazy with an otherworldly glow.

The path was busy with many families out to see the sights. People were polite in making way for others along the path. Dogs were petted, children smiled at, and strangers struck up conversations. A group of adults chatted about whose house they were heading back to for a warm toddy after their walk.

Yes, the sculptures were beautiful to see, and the ducks on the open water, huddling together with snow gathering on their backs. But the most beautiful experience of all was that of community in this special little creek.

Why We're Remodeling

It's time.

We've been living in our house for nearly 14 years. It's time that it finally fit our family's needs.

The location is amazing, the neighborhood unbeatable. And we love the charm of our older home.

What we don't love is that there is no bathroom on our first floor. There's only one actual bathroom in the whole house. (There is a toilet and sink in our laundry room downstairs, but they don't count as a bathroom, according to the appraiser.)

Did I mention that in less than a month our first-born will be a teenager? She is already up to 45-minute shower/private time in the bathroom, God help us if she begins wearing make up.

We don't love the cramped kitchen, where the main traffic pattern through the house goes straight past the stove.

Oh, the stove. Did I mention that there is no countertop space next to it? If I need to take a lid off a pot to stir some spaghetti sauce I take the chance of whacking a family member in the face with it as I search for a flat surface to place it. You can often hear "hot pan coming through!" during dinner prep. And I can't open the oven door if someone has the fridge door open -- they collide.

It's time.

For years Wayne and I have sat on our patio in the summer, looking at the back of the house and dreaming. What if we expanded the kitchen? What if we expanded the bathroom upstairs? What if...what if?

And now, we find those "what ifs" becoming reality. We are in disbelief that we are actually doing this, even as I look out at a new crawl space and framing wood stacked neatly in our backyard, about to become our addition.

"Where am I supposed to poop?" thinks Beauty.

Best of all, we are incorporating parts of our history into our home. One wall of our kitchen will be adorned with wood from Wayne's grandfather's barn, the original homestead of the Horsman family. We hope to fill the walls in the dining room with photos of the Upper Peninsula, where I spent many a summer as a child.

We cannot wait until it's all complete. But, we get to live through the middle part. Marissa will have to bunk with Lindsey for about two months. We will be without a kitchen for about that amount of time. Hopefully it'll be grilling weather most of that time.

Somehow I think we'll survive as a family; we've got our eye on the prize.

The Fun Of Flying Kites

In the winter, the natural parks in the Twin Cities quadruple in size. The lakes freeze over and become a winter play land for all the residents.

Today was the Lake Harriet Kite Festival, an event I've often learned out about too late, after we already had other plans, or when the weather was so bitterly cold that we didn't brave it to attend.

This year, it was a balmy 29 degrees, cloudy with a brisk wind. Perfect kite-flying weather in Minnesota.

Marissa and I dropped Lindsey off at a sleepover, made a little stop at a Caribou for some treats, then headed to the lake. We pulled snow pants and snow bibs over our clothes, tightened up the laces on our winter boots, pulled our scarves up and our hats down and headed out.

Even at 29 degrees, it feels much, much cooler when you're standing on an ice-covered lake.

Marissa has never stood on a frozen lake before. She was nervous about whether or not the ice would hold her, but when she saw the hundreds of people on the ice, she stepped right on.

It took her a while to get comfortable, but eventually she and I were down on a bare expanse of ice, peering through the darkness and trying to see to the water. We admired the geometry of the cracks and speculated as to how deep they went. She grew more confident the longer we were there. She went from not wanting to go to this event to not wanting to leave.

The hit of the day was a huge black fish kite with rainbow scales. I think it was about 12-15 feet in length. It took a lot of wind to keep it aloft, which meant that it often dragged just above the crowd and crashed to the ice, to the great excitement of the kids who would rush to it to touch it. It swept along the crowd and surprised many by lifting up along the back of their jackets. They would turn to see who or what had touched them, only to see a great expanse of a black tail swooping upwards.

This fish -- what a great exercise in community-building! Its owner was an elderly gentleman who was limping slightly due to a fall he had taken earlier on the ice. "I'm not gonna be able to move tomorrow," he told me, "But I gotta stay out here, the kids just love this kite,"

So he would untangle and pull on the strings after a particularly embattled crash, while one of the adults (usually a parent) would hold the fish's mouth open until its body filled with wind. Then it would ever so slowly lift to the sky, sometimes to swoop and come back down again, other times to take to the air and look like it was swimming.

I thought we'd spend a half an hour there, we ended up spending nearly three.  What a wonderful afternoon.

Minneapolis: Big Town with a Big Heart

I've said it before I'll say it again: I love where we live. Even as winter descends upon us and we brace ourselves for bumper-to-bumper snowy commutes, and cold that takes your breath away and freezes the hairs on your face, I love it.

Here's a great example why.

I am on the email list for the Minneapolis Police 5th Precinct. On the other end of this email list are two Crime Prevention Specialists. They work with investigating police to enlist the help of the public to solve crimes.

Yesterday they sent out an email asking for assistance in gathering evidence for a burglary suspect:

On December 13, 2011, a suspected burglar was apprehended in the 3^rd Precinct with several items of interest in his possession. One item was a camera that may have been taken in a burglary but we are unable to find a police report on this item. The camera is an Olympus Stylius. There are pictures from Vicksburg, MS of the Union Trench Matthies JJ Woods Brigade Historical Marker, one with a white male and female walking in the trench. If you are the owner of this property, please call Ofc. Goligowski at 612/673-XXXX.

Attached to this email is a document with a picture of the Vicksburg battlefield.

I'm pretty sure the police in my hometown of 7,000 people doesn't do this. Maybe they do, but if so, I would expect that of a police department serving 7,000 people, not of one that serves several hundred thousand. They aren't asking for assistance in solving a murder or an assault, but burglary, which is probably one of the lower priority crimes Minneapolis has to solve every year.

The best part was that a few hours later they had been flooded with so many calls they sent another email out to clarify:

We have been getting numerous calls from people asking if the camera we recoverd is theirs. The photos in the camera were taken in 2011, probably in March, in Vicksburg Mississippi at the Union Trench Battle field. If you weren't at that battle site, this camera is not yours.

Yep, there we go, showing our lack of reading comprehension skills as a public, and I'm sure that fielding all of those calls was frustrating. Yet the possible benefits of getting the public's help outweighed that hassle, and they had still reached out to us.

Earlier this year we were informed that the Crime Prevention Specialist positions in the 5th precinct were on the table to be cut by the city.  Budgets are tight everywhere, and Minneapolis was looking to the police department to be a part of cutting costs. The reason the 5th precinct was selected is because it is one of the safest areas of the city, and the resources in other areas are considered more critical to save.

It's kind of like saying that people who are physically fit don't need to work out. They are physically fit BECAUSE they work out, hello...

Because our two Crime Prevention Specialists have been the faces and voices of the MPD for this area, the public rallied. We showed up at budget meetings, wrote letters to the police chief and mayor and had tangible examples of all the ways the CPS positions have helped to keep this area of the city as safe as it is.

The positions were preserved, and we all got a touching email from the two people whose jobs had just been saved.

Now that's community.

A Change in Scenery

"Mommy, can we go to that playground in the middle of the street?"

"What playground would that be? The one I tell you to go to when you don't listen?"

"No, that big blue one. There's a dragon there."

"Oh! That park. Yes, let's go."

Marissa pretends to be a booger in the dragon's nose.

Lindsey rides the dragon.

The only piece of equipment (besides the dragon) that is NOT blue.

This playground is in the Seward neighborhood, close to where Lindsey used to take art classes. It's in a triangular green space surrounded by three city streets, which is why Marissa said it was in the "middle" of the street.

It's an area that's pretty ethnically diverse - Somali and Hispanic families were in equal representation. One little boy was trying to get Marissa to chase him, and she unwittingly did for a while until she realized what he was up to, then she got shy and didn't want to play anymore.

They kept posing on the dragon and asking me to take their pictures. I sure have these girls trained well! What an incredible way to spend an unseasonably warm September day.

Our New Neighbors

Our next door neighbors moved away while we were on vacation. It was strange to come back from vacation and see different people driving in to the driveway, driving cars we weren't familiar with.

If you ever lived in a metropolitan area you understand how close you are to your neighbors. Even if you aren't close as in "friends," you are physically close. Sometimes you need to pretend you don't see them coming and going from their house to give them the perception of privacy. Or you ignore the yells or laughs or whatever noises emerge from open windows. And that requires some courtesy and diplomacy.

Then there's me.

Here's the deal with me: what you see is what you get. And what you get is a messy, disorganized working mom, who sometimes yells at her kids to get them to do what she needs them to do, or lets them scream and cry and have their tantrum. Occasionally that tantrum is outside, because I do not allow screaming in the house.

I don't wear make up when I'm not out, I wear what's comfortable and don't care how it looks, as long as I'm not leaving the house. And that means that you, my neighbors, get to see that questionable taste in style. Don't turn me in to What Not to Wear: I didn't go out, I'm home.

My hair is messy and crazy, and I kind of like it that way. But let me know if I've got spinach between my teeth, thanks.

You don't have to like it, just deal with it.

I hope we get along with the new neighbors.

What I Don't Take For Granted

A sunny day. A lake.

Time with my children.

What catches a 5-year-old's eye.

A spring breeze.

Living close to lakes in an urban area.

A random concert.

A shared joke.

An evening of joy.

"Progress" in the Neighborhood

Part of the charm of our neighborhood are the older homes that line the streets. From two-story English tudors like ours to welcoming bungalows, the styles and sizes are unique, with something for everyone.

But I get concerned when I see cute little homes like this one get sold.

While a 1500 square foot home was once considered large enough for a family of four, the average square foot of a family home today is 2200 square feet. And typically homes of this size that are sold look like this next.

And then like this.

Sure, the city guidelines say that a home has to be at least 10 feet from the lot line. The new homes going up are 10 feet from each lot line, on both sides. (The white picket fence you see here belongs to the home next door to this one.) It appears that this one is also 10 feet away from the back lot line, too.  And while I'm sure this one falls within the guidelines for elevation, it is going to tower above the homes around it.

I'm glad that the economy is turning around, happy for the construction company who got this job and I'm sure it will be a lovely home for a nice family. But it saddens me to see the history and architecture of the last century be destroyed. Having toured some of these new homes in the neighborhood, I can tell you that they lack the charm and special touches of older homes like ours.

At least, that's the way I see it.