Englewood Story

Link: http://www.EyeOnEnglewood.com

Our beautiful four bedroom home was finished…almost. We had touch-up painting and some wood trim to complete. Guys who used to live with us came to help. One of Bill's patients from Craig Hospital offered to help because he said, "I owe Bill big time," and he he helped paint the interior in exchange for a steak dinner.

Our neighbor, Miguel Drake, called the City to complain that we had installed a new water heater. "You know they no longer have a contractor? So, does that require a permit?... No? Then, sorry to bother you." We didn't know Ducky had called until months later when we obtained copies of the City's phone messages.

In late September, 2007, I was hanging curtains in a guest room one afternoon when a call came in from Teikyo Loretto Heights.

It was the South Korean student who was having a hard time. He couldn’t eat American food, and his room was next door to the men’s bathroom. He was starving and he couldn’t sleep.

Follow up:

A teacher at the College, referred the boy only 17, to us. He wanted desperately to converse with Americans to find the edge on his language skills.

Bill and I accepted him into our home. We had never hosted a foreigner before, and we were a little nervous about teaching him English, also about offending him with our customs. But, he was a delightful teenager.

Soon, we learned what a fantastic Asian chef he was as well. He politely tried our American cheeses on salad, Italian, pizza, and Mexican food. Grocery shopping conversation came first. After all, food is a young man’s first priority.

Our first real sit-down conversation was about why American Indians live on reservations and human prejudice. I couldn’t believe how direct his questions were and how he soaked up conversation like a sponge. We learned about Buddha and he learned about the trinity.

Since he didn’t own a car, he walked to Broadway to take the bus to and from College.

One week later, a Denver photographer fresh from Australia moved in. She had worked for a nearby modeling agency at one time and was again trying to earn a living with them as their photographer.

Coming in the doorway with an armload of linens she queried, “Are your neighbors always so nosy?” She told us they had approached her twice asking personal question about her room, terms and amount of rent.

As a person of mixed race, she was used to encountering prejudice. Her upbeat attitude kept her spirit free and easy. We took to calling her our 60’s hippie-chick.

But twinges of uneasiness ate at the edges of our week as Bill and I noticed certain neighbors on the sidewalks talking and gesturing towards our home. We told ourselves that we didn’t care because we had always been upfront with them about hosting students. Their attitudes couldn’t dampen our fundamental relief. Two solid housemates had moved in, and the threat of not being able to pay the mortgage was solved. Inside the house, conversations were exuberant.

God works in mysterious ways, and we were sitting on our back porch, counting blessings two weeks after our South Korean student moved in, when Miguel Drake, Ron Noffsinger and Randy Bax called us to Ron’s backyard for a cup of coffee. "We need to speak with you and your wife," they said.

We braced ourselves. Is this also part of God’s plan?

It turned out to be the coffee clatch from hell. Besides not offering us any, Randy glared while Pee-Wee (as we took to calling Ron) lectured us as if he were disciplining his own child.

He said he represented the entire neighborhood when he accused us of breaking the law. He pulled out a letter which said in black type,

“You live in an R-1-C district and you are in violation of the definition of household.”

Ron explained how he had already notified Code Enforcement, and that if we only kept two people, he wouldn’t "officially report us," but if we brought in our third student, who had already lived with us for two years, they would make our lives hell.

In fact, the records I later obtained from the City show that Ms. Langon e-mailed City Manager Sears saying, "Ron understands what 'patience' means. He will wait to lodge the complaint until we have all our ducks in a row."

Apparently, Ms. Langon needed confirmation regarding "how the number of two unrelated are counted" in a household.

On that sunny Saturday morning, I prodded, “What’s really the matter? Have we overstepped somewhere with you? Has someone parked in your parking spot?” There had admittedly been a lot of vehicles on the block while we were in construction.

Ron and Miguel said “No,” and Miguel took it from there accusing us of not obtaining a background check on the South Korean. If he were to stay, then the neighbors would need notification lists of all of our guests coming and going, dates and times. "Don’t you know that it was a Korean who shot up Virginia Tech?” He ended.

"Don't be ridiculous," I responded, "We didn't get background checks on any of you when we moved into the neighborhood ...Maybe that was a mistake?"

Pee-Wee said, “I’ll be damned if I have to retire and live next to a houseful of students! We have a lot of power in this neighborhood and we’ve accomplished things before, and we will shut you down even if the City doesn’t help us. (pounding his fist on the picnic table) We’ll take it to civil court!”

All I could think of was the noise of Pee-Wee's weekend Harley Davidson troupes and his Diesel truck leaving every weekday morning. I asked again if we had harmed them in any way. They said “No. You are illegal. That’s all.”

I excused myself saying I had better things to do with my first day of rest in seven months.

Bill tried to stay and reason with them, but eventually left with great weights of distress and alarm being carried on his shoulders. Did the entire neighborhood really hate us?

I was so alarmed that when a friend came to visit for lunch, I couldn’t carry on a conversation with her. All I could think about was our bullying neighbors' threats. I wondered, what is it really all about? The rent, the South Korean? What?

And, though Anne Drake became surly and abusive, Mr. Drake (Ducky) would call over the fence “good morning” to Bill. Bill finally asked him how he got off on being so friendly after his "mob-style" confrontation a week ago.

Ducky said nonchalantly, “oh, I have no problem separating neighborliness from legalities.” No, he didn’t either. No one could have been more surprised when he brought over his son for trick-or-treat on Halloween. There stood Ducky, behind his boy, with a big grin on his face.

Meanwhile, I researched the Englewood Municipal Code and drafted a letter to the City Manager. In it, I asked for some "human decency," "an attitude of hospitality," and we offered "to purchase a permit or license or get a variance from the City, whatever was required."

After all, we were only intending to share our four bedroom home with three students. Doesn't that constitute using a house within its normal occupancy range? Neither density nor traffic issues seemed to be the issue.

What gives a City license to regulate innocent relationships inside a household? This was a bizarre concept.

Why had Ron offered to water our tree two months ago, and the Drakes brought over a meatloaf dinner, when they were now determined to become our own personal nightmare on Pearl street?