Another One Down

Angela's house is gone now and so are most of the trees.

I still think of the yellow house that used to be on the other side of Kathy and Steve's house as Angela's house, because Angela is person I knew best who lived there.  But it was vacant for a long time before the tree removal sign appeared in front of the house in February.

I went in the backyard in February and took pictures of the five trees that were marked with the fluorescent orange X's.

Last week, the house was demolished.  This was done while I was at work, so I didn't get any pictures of it, but I did get some pictures afterwards.  Here's one of them.

Later in the week, once the debris was mostly removed, the tree removal team came in and started taking out the trees.

I guess they didn't get done, on Friday; they left ropes on this one.  I assume it will come down today.

In other news, I heard from our neighbor Lee Anne that she and her husband had bought a house in Buckhead; they needed more space for a growing family, but were keeping their house on Wessyngton and were renting it out to a family that would be moving in soon.  I told her I had heard that, and wished them the best in their new neighborhood.  I'd seen the moving truck at their house a couple of weeks ago and asked her husband what was going on.  He told me they needed more space and were moving, and I asked if they had sold their house.  No, they were renting it out.  So find us some good neighbors, I told him.  He assured me that they had.

Here's hoping for the same for the house that will replace Angela's house.

Addendum:  Kathy shared some pictures of the demolition with me.

Not My Neighborhood

When Caroline was in kindergarten, she (and we) were asked to participate in the Early Childhood Longitudinal Study.  This study, sponsored by the U.S. Department of Education, followed a group of kindergartners from the class of 1998-1999 through 8th grade.  Study staff met with Caroline several times at school and they probably got input from her teachers as well (although I don't remember that for sure).  What I do remember were the long telephone interviews, asking about who was in the household and who took care of her.  There were questions over the years about how many children's books we had in the house.  As all three kids got older, there were more and more, and I remember one interviewer seemed incredulous in one of the later interviews when I estimated it at 2,000.  That probably was a low number, in retrospect, given how many boxes and bags full of books we've given away to pretty much anyone we could get to take them over the years.  We've given some to neighbors and boxes and boxes of them have gone to Morningside Elementary.  Some have gone to one of the green Better World Books bins around town.

One day last week someone on Noble Drive posted a note on the Morningside-Lenox Park email list requesting book donations for an elementary school in West Atlanta.  Last year the PTA at that school had sponsored a reading event and there was lots of interest from the students; in the course of this, it became apparent that there was a big unmet need in many children's homes for books.  So someone in my neighborhood sent out an email, asking us all to check our bookshelves, and so Iain and I did that on Saturday.    

I delivered the books on Sunday.  That overfilled box in the front are the books that I brought, but clearly we weren't the only family with books to donate.  I'm glad there was such a good response to this very worthwhile effort.

On the way home I was thinking about all the things we do with books that we're through with -- pretty much anything but throw them away (although I've done that too).  And then I drove past the Little Free Library that one of our neighbors has placed between the sidewalk and the curb in front of their house at Cumberland and Reeder.  We've left books there, too, as well as in the one on North Pelham.  Of course a Little Free Library is no substitute for a public library, but it's not intended to be; it's a way to pass along a book you don't want to keep to a neighbor who would enjoy it -- which certainly is a good thing to do.

Except in Leawood, Kansas, where a family had built a Little Free Library in their front yard, and then were informed by the city that the structure was in violation of a city ordinance prohibiting structures in front yards.  (I can only assume that bird houses are prohibited as well.)  According to the city, there had been complaints from neighbors.  One can only wonder what kind of neighborhood results in complaints like these, which blogger Scott Doyon cited from news reports. 

"Why do we pay taxes for libraries and have those boxes on our streets? In a blighted area? Sure, put them everywhere. We’re not a poor area. We don’t need them."

"First, there was just a library. Then, a bench was placed next to it. I think people were concerned there would be more and more stuff at their front yard."

The Kansas City Star editorial got it just right. "Neighbors who might be worried about them should wander over and borrow a book."

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/opinion/editorials/article590071.html#storylink=cpy

Last week the Leawood City Council unanimously approved a temporary exemption from the ordinance for Little Free Libraries.  So the Collins family's little library is legal in Leawood until October 20.  I'm not sure what happens then.

Thankfully, that's not my neighborhood.  Need something to read?  Lots of books to choose from, just around the corner.  And when you're done with it, you can pass it along to another neighbor.

A Dog in the House

At my house, I am almost always the first one up in the morning.  For years, the morning routine was when I come downstairs, the first thing I would do was feed the dog -- our gentle, loving, loopy Labrador retriever.  So now, when I come downstairs in the dark, I still expect to hear his feet on the hardwood floor, his demands for food or water or being let outside or for attention, but it's quiet.  A few weeks ago, while Iain and I were both out of the country, Bullwinkle died.  He had cancer, and we all knew the time was coming.  Iain had a chance to say goodbye via Skype.  Since then we've talked a little about getting another dog, but it seems like it's too soon, like getting married again right after a divorce.

A couple weeks ago we had invited over some neighbors for dinner.  Scott was out of town, but Robyn came and Pawel and Carolina came too.  When Carolina emailed me to ask what they could bring, I cc:d Tom on my response, which was that they didn't need to bring anything, but if they wanted to bring something they could bring a bottle of wine.  To which Tom replied, "Also bring your dog.  Ours died this week and it will be nice to have a canine guest."  We'd gotten to know Lorenzo, Pawel and Carolina's golden retriever, at a recent block party.  So, fine.

That night we cooked pizza in the backyard pizza oven and traded stories.  It was a nice evening, and at some point Tom said to Pawel and Carolina, if you ever need someone to look after Lorenzo, let us know.  They looked surprised and replied, well, if you're serious about that, we're going to Savannah for the 4th of July.  Tom said he absolutely meant it and we'd be happy to look after Lorenzo.  I actually was a little annoyed that he made this offer with no consultation, given that I figured I would end up doing a good deal of the work over the holiday weekend, but it wasn't that big of a deal.  It couldn't be that much work to have Lorenzo underfoot, and as it turned out we were also feeding Karen and Elise's turtle while they were away, too.

Lorenzo came over on July 3, with his food (in single serving ziplock bags, since he's on a diet), his leash, his emergency contact information, and the essential commands in Spanish that we needed to use before entering the street, since Lorenzo has been trained to not enter the street except on command.  And sometime after that, something unexpected happened.  Everyone in the house -- everyone -- was happier, and we all fell totally in love with Lorenzo.

It wasn't just that he got excited when we returned home, greeting us with an unexpected display of joy (and once he even did it when he woke up and we hadn't gone anywhere; perhaps he dreamed that we'd gone away, so he was happy we were back), or that he'd knock things over to get a tennis ball that the kids would throw for him in the back yard or that he'd snooze at our feet; it was a reminder of what wonderful companions dogs are, how they can read our minds and give us what we need and just be there even when no one else is.

We took pictures.  Caroline's were the best; she posted lots of photos to Facebook and we sent some to Carolina and Pawel, who were having a good time on their vacation.  Here's one of mine:

Caroline's are better.  Here are a few:

This one had a caption, "an educated dog is never without a well-stocked library."

On Monday, Iain asked "when we have to give Lorenzo up."   I told him that Carolina and Pawel would be back on Wednesday.

Wednesday evening I was going out to dinner with an out-of-town colleague who was in Atlanta for a meeting.  I had promised long before that I would take her to my favorite Mexican restaurant that night.  I picked her up from the meeting and we stopped by the house on the way to Caramba (it really wasn't out of the way) so obstensibly so I could make sure Tom remembered I wouldn't be home for dinner but really because I wanted to say goodbye to Lorenzo.  No one but Lorenzo was home and we were greeted with his trademark happy dance.  I told him goodbye and that we'd enjoyed having him with us.  I know that he's a dog and he might not have understood a word I said (and anyway, I'm not sure he knows English) but I needed to say it anyway.

By the time I got back from dinner, Lorenzo had been picked up.  Iain said he put on an extraordinary display of joy when Pawel and Carolina arrived.  They brought us pralines and toffee from Savannah, and a very nice thank you note.  But really, the thanks should be to them.  It's great to have neighbors who -- when you really need one -- will loan you their dog.  

And also neighbors who will bring you your sweater that you left at Caramba.  Later that evening, there was a knock at the door.  It was our neighbor Marian, returning my sweater.

Games, Sports, and Illuminations

John Adams thought we would celebrate our nation's independence on July 2.  On July 3, 1776, he wrote his wife:

The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.

 Although we were short on Pomp and Parade and Guns and Bells and Bonfires yesterday, we did manage Games and Sports (if watching the World Cup counts) and Illuminations.  We were cheering for Germany in the first game (although Iain didn't think of blowing the vuvuzela until after they scored their first and only goal) and Colombia in the second (Lorenzo, our neighbors' golden retriever, is currently a house guest and he is from Colombia so we thought it only polite).

Then Kathy and Steve and Tom's friend Edgar came over for ribs, slaw, jalapeno mac and cheese, and peach cobbler.  After dinner the kids took Lorenzo for a walk and tried to guess the Spanish words for what they wanted him to do.  (Lorenzo is well trained, but in Spanish.  So we probably confuse him quite a bit.)

By then it was dark and it was time for fireworks.  We had quite a few left over from some previous purchase (New Years?  A previous 4th of July?) and Tom really wanted them out of the house.  So after it was dark we headed up to the church parking lot with a laundry basket half-full of highly flammable devices.  They were the kind that are legal to buy in Georgia, so nothing very big and not even anything that made all that much noise, but once lit there were fountains of sparks in different colors and colored smoke.  Our neighbors Sarah and Ben strolled up and joined us; it probably took a good half-an-hour to set everything off, including Iain elaborately combining the fuses of some of the smaller fireworks so they would go off more or less simultaneously.  In the distance, it sounded like the city was under attack, with the noises from the professional fireworks shows and closer ones from front yards nearer by.  Occasionally we would see a shower of sparks from someone else's fireworks, through the trees.

A nice enough 4th of July. For next year, we'll need more fireworks.

Living Beyond Expectations on Sweet Auburn

Sometimes when I have to be out of town for work I end up missing something very cool that is happening in Atlanta, and that happened to me last week.  On June 19 the Atlanta Regional Commission hosted a daylong training on tactical urbanism followed by a day of workshops on June 20.  Mike Lydon and his team from the Street Plans Collaborative were there, along with Jason Roberts from The Better Block.  The City of Memphis has really embraced tactical urbanism as a way to make Memphis a better place to live, and Thomas Pacello of the City of Memphis Mayor's Innovation Team was there too.  And this coincided with the Atlanta chapter of the Congress for the New Urbanism's third Thursday event, so there was a chance to talk to all of them over drinks at Noni's in the Old Fourth Ward.  And of course, while all of this was going on I was out of town.

The question the ARC was trying to address was a serious one -- what kind of neighborhoods will people need as they age?  This is especially an issue in a city like Atlanta, that is so dependent on cars and driving.  What do you do when you can't or don't want to drive anymore?

Although I missed the training and the workshops, I was back for the "better block" intervention on Auburn Avenue on June 21-22.  Rain intervened on Saturday afternoon and we went late in the day; by the time we got there there were not so many people around but it was still fun to see.  We came back the next day and again got there as things were winding down.

There were some pop-up shops there including Civil Bikes; I had talked to Nedra before, at the most recent Streets Alive event, so I was excited to see that they had a physical location.  She explained that the shop actually would be there all summer.  It turned out that the pop-up shops didn't have anything to do with the ARC event; they were part of a separate initiative related to the Atlanta Streetcar, which sort of explained why no one other than Nedra seemed to know about the other pop-up shops in the neighborhood, and why when we finally figured out where they were, they were not even necessarily open.

But no more complaining.  There was some cool stuff to see.  There were Walk [Your City] signs.

There was a pop-up plaza with a stage and performances.

The We Love Atlanta truck, the best mobile art gallery ever, was there earlier, but gone by the time we got there.

Living Walls had had tours earlier in the day of the wonderful murals in the neighborhood.  This one, from the artist JR, was installed last summer.

People for Bikes sponsored the bike lane, with a temporary barrier that wouldn't have stopped an errant car but did make the lane safer by providing a visual barrier.

Neighborland was there too, with red stickers instead of green.  There were all kinds of suggestions on how to make Auburn Avenue a great place to live for people of all ages -- everything from bike lanes to better transit to a supermarket to more things for kids to do to drug treatment.

There was a nice piece on line about the project.  Here's the subheader:  

Regional planners showcased a neighborhood with easy access to transportation, health services and entertainment. But it only lasted two days.

Tactical urbanism aims for "short term action, long term change."  Kudos to the ARC for catalyzing the short term action.  But what we need is the long term change.  I'm glad we're trying, but it's a hard lift in this city, with its legions of exhausted, angry drivers.  What matters is what happens now.

Without a Trace

The apartments at the corner of Wessyngton and Highland are long gone.  Here's the sequence.

This photo was taken last August, before the tenants were evicted.  There was a larger wood-frame structure on the corner, a long brick structure on the Wessyngton lot, and in between a small wood-frame building (attached to the larger one) that looked too small for someone to live in (but I'm pretty sure someone did).

By November, the buildings were empty and boarded up.

This photo - also from November - shows the sidewalk that extends from the corner down Wessyngton but does not extend all the way to the end of the second lot on Wessyngton.  Between the sidewalk and the street are the elm trees that were planted years ago by Trees Atlanta during a neighborhood tree-planting day.

By mid-May, when I took the pictures below, some of the erosion control fencing was in place and a large piece of equipment with a big shovel on the end was in place.  It was clear that demolition would begin soon.

On May 19, the demolition began.  That first day, the white frame structure was reduced to a large pile of rubble.

By the weekend, the corner lot was cleared off and leveled, and demolition of the brick building was well underway.  It looked like it had been bombed, without the fire.

Two weeks later, there was only a little rubble left from the brick building.  Mostly, there was a big hole.

By the following week, the rubble was pretty much gone, and all that was left of the brick building was the far wall, which was serving as a retaining wall for the property behind the lot.

The stairs remained at the corner lot, even though there no longer was anything at the top of them except for an empty lot.

A number of beautiful trees have been left.  With all the excavation around them, I don't know if they will survive, but it is encouraging that they aren't marked with fluorescent orange "X"'s and that there is no sign notifying neighbors that trees are about to be removed.

I was out of town the next week, but when I came back I was surprised to see a brand new sidewalk, extending the existing sidewalk along Wessyngton to the edge of the property.

Between kids being home and travel for work, I have not had time to attend any of the neighborhood meetings where I might have learned what is planned for the site.  We do know that the two lots have been or will be subdivided into three -- the Georgia Supreme Court has ruled that the City has to subdivide the property -- and that it will remain zoned for single-family homes.  But we don't know what will be built.

Myself, I'm not so worried about what the houses look like.  I'm more concerned about who will buy the houses and be our neighbors.  I'm hoping for the kind of neighbors who will pick up your mail or or newspaper if you are out of town for a few days and maybe even feed your cat and definitely call 911 if guys in an unmarked truck show up and start loading up your stuff.  

But of course that's still some ways away.  In the meantime, I'll take it as a good sign that there's a new sidewalk and pretty effective erosion control measures in place.  We'll see what happens.

Jazz in the Park

Last Sunday Tom and I went to the Atlanta Jazz Festival.  A jazz guitarist who was described by George Benson as "one of the greatest guitarists I've seen in my whole life" was playing, and that seemed like it would be would be worth going to.  So while Tom was at the monastery I dug a couple of folding chairs out of a closet and went to Kroger for portable food.

 

We were able to park on Virginia Avenue, not too far from Monroe, and walked from there.  At the park, there were lots of people who had clearly arrived early to stake out their favorite location and set up tents.  The International Stage, where we were going, was on the other side of the lake.  There the crowd was smaller.  There were not many people with tents but lots of people with folding chairs and blankets up close to the stage or farther back in the bits of shade that were available.  We put our chairs near a picnic table in the shade and settled in for the afternoon.

The first performer was a Moroccan musician, Ali Amr, who plays the qanun, a stringed instrument that resembles an autoharp.  It was a great performance but it did seem like it was better suited for a late night, dimly lit club than a bright Sunday afternoon.

Next was Diego Figueriedo, the Braziliam guitarist.  He was terrific.  Afterwards Tom joined the crowd at the WRFG tent and bought a CD.  He said that it took a long time because there was lots of conversation and photograph-taking that accompanied the transaction.

We'd checked the weather forecast before we left and it was "chance of rain after 4 p.m."  That didn't seem like a deal-breaker, but soon after 4 the clouds came in.  We moved away from our spot under the tree and closer to the stage, since we didn't need the shade any more, but then it rained.  Unlike many of the other attendees, we hadn't brought umbrellas.  We talked about leaving -- lots of people did -- but the final performer, Cyrille Aimée, is an acclaimed jazz vocalist and we thought hearing her was worth getting wet.  So we turned our chairs over to keep the seats a little drier and took refuge under some trees until the rain passed, which it did in a bit.

She was fabulous and I'm glad we stayed.  She has a wonderful voice and it was a terrific performance.

Not only was the music great, which it was, but it also was the kind of mellow, diverse group in the audience that is enjoyable to be with.  We shared the picnic table with lots of different people over the afternoon.  It was the closest thing I have experienced in Atlanta in my almost 25 years of living here to the concerts in Millennium Park that we have been to in Chicago.  Which raises the question -- if I enjoy this type of event so much, why haven't I ever been before?

In Chicago, we could get to the park on a bus.  We didn't have to drive and we didn't have to figure out where to park and we didn't have to walk very far once we got off the bus.  (I don't mind the walking, but Tom just can't do it any more.)  In Atlanta, MARTA is limited and you can't really get from point A to point B reliably by bus.  Everyone drives everywhere and that means parking is a mess.  I never went to the Atlanta Jazz Festival before because I could not envision getting there without a level of hassle that I wasn't willing to endure.  There are lots of things that I would enjoy doing that I don't do because I don't want to deal with driving and parking.  Maybe this is just me, but it does feel like this is a quality-of-life tax I pay for living in a city that is so car-dependent.  And of course, I *have* a car.

It ended up not being bad, the getting-there-hassle-part, although it was at the edge of what Tom could do in terms of walking.  Afterwards, we were talking about the possibility of getting to the park by bicycle.  I told him that the new high-tech traffic-stopping light finally got installed on Monroe, making it safer to cross from Cumberland into Piedmont Park.  He asked if there was anywhere at the park to park bicycles.  Yes, I told him, the Atlanta Bicycle Coalition was there, just inside the park, offering valet parking.