Article Contributed on: 8/24/2009 5:39:05 PM
I'm beginning to believe there is not just one Cole neighborhood--there's two. What's harder to ascertain is the exact--or approximate--dividing line. My attempts to find this "line" have been thwarted lately by a bum hip, which translates to less walking on a regular basis. (Tomorrow: a visit to the physical therapist.) But on the last long1.5 hour Cole-centric walk I took, about two weeks ago, I was able to identify the "line" asfallingat about High and 35th, give or take a block. West of there: severalhouses look like they're abandoned or were left in the midst of repairs; lack of weed abatement and no signs threatening the property owner; and I counted three crack pipes, one syringe and two used condoms on two blocks (of Williams) alone. East of "the line": lots got bigger, appeared tidier; no overstuffed stained furniture on the porches or in the front yard; less trash on streets and strewn in alley ways; less weeds the size of actual trees. Generally speaking, people seem a little more invested inthe upkeep of their homes on the east side.
I've lived on both sides of "the line." I was west; I'm now east.There are things I liked about both locations, though I will admit that I prefer where we are now to where we were back on Franklin,but mostly because of our neighbors.(Had our landlords on Franklin been willing to sell to us, we'd still be in that treasure of a property.) Still, while I'm watching all this gentrification happen in Cole, the west sideactually seems worse (trash, graffiti, drug paraphenalia-wise) than it was when we lived there. What's changed? It's as if there's a network of folks working to keep that side of Cole trashed because it scares off the investors and developers. (I understand the unlikelihood of that last statement, but I'm making it anyway.) Sure, I've also seen some properties fixed up that used to be falling down, but in their place are other properties--some that once looked great, showed pride of ownership--that have fallen into disrepair. Partly to blame is the economy, I suppose, but I sense that it's something else, too, something less physical and harder to pinpoint.
Of course, push back is inevitable -- ifyou were making 19,000 a year working hard labor and trying to support a family of 6 and one day some dudes in a Lexusrolled up to the lot next to your house and started measuring, toting around laptops in the crook of their arms and talking endlessly on cell phones...yeah, you might be tempted to pitch your empties around the yard and maybe toss a couple dirty diapers across the fence. Because, see, Cole residents are smart enough to know that if cash-happy, community-indifferent developers put up some condos and sell them for 350K a pop, then it's only a matter of time before folks on the lower end of the pay scale get pushed out of their home(s). It happens, right? It's just a sign of the times, right? The developers mean no harm, they're just trying to make a living, too.
Right?
During that walk, I noticed that the stately victorian on the SE corner of 38th and Gilpin had permits in the windows. I knew that house had been foreclosed on; I also knew it was a serious piece of architectural history waiting for some love. As I walked by slow, peering in the windows, a man walked out of the backdoor or those funky lofts at 38th and Williams. He was with a woman...they looked dovey and lovey and in a good mood, so I asked the guy "Do you live here?"
"Um, yeah," he says, his guard a bit up. Offputting Yeah, well, I wasn't going to jump you, I thought, even if I do know what you paid for your place.
"Oh, I was just wondering if youknew anything about that house," I say, pointing to the Victorian. "Was it bought by someone who's going to live in it or flip it?"
The man softened a bit. "Live in it, yeah," he replied. "I *think* it was a lawyer and his wife who bought it."
"Great!" I say. "I know it was a sad situation with a foreclosure."
"Oh," he says. "I didn't know. Do you live near here?"
I launched into my >one minute speech about Cole, where we lived (two blocks from where I was standing at that moment) and where we lived now. "Cole is..." I started to say at one point, but was interrupted.
"...Changing?"he says?
I smile, pause. "Sure, yeah. It's changing." Then I smile, thank them, and walk away.
Thisman and woman seemed pleased that I agreed with their assessment, and since I told them this was my 11th year in Cole (they looked at me wide-eyed when I said it), they knew I'd been in the area for awhile, so I must have some degree of expertise. I leave them to their hand-holding and dreams of making a mint on the loft because, well, why spoil someone's good time? It's not like I was going to let loose on a tirade about my neighborhood...even if I've observed a barge's worth of naivety amongst newer Cole residents. They'll figure things out in their own time.
I've definitely got some more research to do re: the Tale of Two Coles. Lots more. So stay tuned.