Unity On Division Street

by Linda Hagen

As you read this story (which is true by the way, as are all my stories), you might think to yourself, "Obviously this is a story illustrative of the illegal immigration situation, or the end of Apartheid in South Africa, or Christianity in America, or the children of Israel wandering in the desert, or New Life Church, or life controlling additions.

And you could be right.

Long ago and far away, our family lived in the city on Division Street, a lovely neighborhood designated by the city fathers as "The Historic District." The houses were old and valued for their architecture and history. Much thought was given to maintaining the integrity of the historical value of the houses to benefit all. It was common to see visitors taking a walking tour through our neighborhood, guidebook in hand. An association was formed, and got about the business of preservation for future generations. They even made a few guidelines, respected by everyone, because this all created a great place for the families; for the good of all, and of course, the mission of the Historic district.

Though of diverse backgrounds, the homeowners were able to set aside prejudices from whence they came.  All were welcomed, and unified by the common mission of the Historic District. Oh sure, there were disagreements sometimes. But respect for others and the mission prevailed and folks usually took their personal responsibility seriously.  It became the Division Street Culture of Unity.

I remember well the year we got new neighbors, right across the street.  We heard that a young Ugarian couple had purchased the home (their first), and we were excited to meet them and welcome them into our little kingdom. We also heard that they were coming directly from the "Free Mount Street " neighborhood, which was mostly Ugarian.

This caused concern among some in our kingdom.  The old Free Mount Street area was absolutely notorious for crimes, beatings, bums, and addicts. The people there were not free at all. Perhaps the name Free Mount best symbolized freedom from there.  Would the new folks bring their old ways with them?

The day came and we enjoyed watching all the activity across the street. The fresh excitement of arriving in the new kingdom—freed from the old.  Friends and family coming to celebrate.  Neighbors made introductions and brought food.

Things went well until the very next weekend:  there was a  party going on at the Ugarians.  Lots of their friends from the old neighborhood came to warm the house.Too loud, too late. too long. It will all settle down we said. Give them time-they're just new to the kingdom.

The second weekend brought more of the same. The party spilled out into the street. The police made a visit. Our neighbor Sammy, (who lived next door to the new people) was a Ugarian himself and had come from the very same Free Mount Street neighborhood long ago. Sammy talked to my husband, (known as The Snowman,) about this situation. They both agreed that those coming from the old neighborhood should leave their old destructive ways behind.  They should bring only what was of benefit to others and themselves, like the Ugarian Taco Flavored Artichoke Etouffee 7 Layer Eggroll Salad with Southeast Asian Dressing; a dish that we had all come to love, brought to us by Sammy's wife years before, handed down from generation to generation.

Sammy also was greatly annoyed that some of the party goers had milled about on his lawn, his pride and joy- his baby. Sammy used to spend a lot of time waxing his car in the driveway so he could look at his lawn. "They've got no respect", he scowled.

My husband, the Snowman, had some Ugarian blood himself, and had spent a lot of time in the old hood, back in the day. Since moving into the kingdom, Snowman had made steady progress in learning the new Kingdom ways, and the Culture of Division Street Unity.

Sammy and the Snowman really understood where the Ugarians were coming from, so out of compassion and concern for them and everyone else, they discussed if maybe someone should go speak to the new people, on behalf of the neighborhood, before something bad happened.  A difficult question. The new people were after all, free now.  Free from the Free Mount Street Culture of Destruction and free to make their own decisions. They were homeowners now in the kingdom.

Sammy and the Snowman couldn't understand why anyone would try to change the Division Street Culture of Unity into the Free Mount Street Culture of Destruction, The Ugarians seemed genuinely joyful and thankful to live in the Historic District kingdom. Why did they continue to act as if they were still chained down on Free Mount Street?  Who are we to judge"? said the other neighbors, when approached with the idea of speaking up.  "We don't want to say anything. We don't want to offend them.  It could cause trouble!"

"I think we've already got trouble", said the Snowman

The third weekend came with an even bigger event than before. Hoardes of partyers crowded the house and yard of the Ugarians. Loud- really loud music invaded the air. Cars were parked any which way, blocking driveways, and up on the curbs. Drunken brawls broke out periodically, accompanied by the sounds of breaking glass, screaming women, and screeching tires.  The police came twice at the behest of anonymous callers. The party would quiet down for about five minutes and then resume its former volume, late into the night.

The next morning found Snowman and Sammy both looking out of their respective windows surveying the carnage left by the party goers. The Ugarian's house had a couple of broken windows, the screened door was hanging by one hinge, their trash can was upended and its contents scattered all over their yard. Beer bottles lined the porch steps. A car was left on the front lawn.

Sonny's horror stricken gaze followed tire tracks that led from the Ugarian's front lawn to his own.  God in heaven! Someone had driven a car across Sammy's lawn -his pride and joy, his baby-scarring its perfection with muddy ruts.

Snowman frowned as he looked out his own window at the wreckage. A brief flashback of the bad old days flickered past, as he examined the partyscape. He knew all too well the consequences that necessarily followed such goings on. He saw danger lurking in the shadows, threatening the Division Street Culture of Unity and the very mission of the Histroric District.  He pondered the idea of the homeowners association making actual rules of behavior. But would that in itself destroy the whole idea of the Culture of Unity? 

Then Snowman's eyes snapped open wide as he saw his own driveway littered with broken glass and trash.

It looked just like Free Mount Street!

"That's it! I'm going over there!"  He strode accross the street and up the Ugarian's walk.  A scowling Sammy had come out of his door at the same time. Together they went up the steps and pounded on the front door, until the young Ugarian man answered. They told him in no uncertain terms that this sort of thing would not fly here, in this neighborhood. They reminded the Ugarian that he had been welcomed by everyone as part of this new neighborhood, and freed from all of the destructive ways of Free Mount Street. And why didn't it occur to him that maybe these old ways were damaging to other people? Did he ever think about that?  "Just look!" they said, waving at the broken glass and trash and car tire ruts.

The young Ugarian assumed a defensive posture, and offered a weak argument about friends getting out of control, but he was no match for the two big men standing on his porch.  "You are responsible for this mess-you clean it up!" Having clearly communicated their expectations to the Ugarian, they each went home.

Could Snowman and Sammy have handled this situation better or differently?  Did they have a right to tell the Ugarians how to live? Should the homeowners association have made rules? What do you think?