16th & Irving

I worked in the “hood” today. I think most of my old neighbors were gone, but I didn’t have time to go door-to-door. Plus I’m not Mormon and my Avon products are on back order.

In case I’m not making sense, I worked today across the street from where I spent most of my early years: 16th and Irving Avenue North. That North part is important, cause 32 blocks due south puts one in a very exclusive part of Minneapolis, near Lake of the Isles and multi-million dollar mansions. But North is still “north” to a large degree. (Yes, you can quote me on that.) My old house on that corner is now only two doors from where “urban renewal” ripped out 6 to 8 city blocks of houses and plopped in a fortress style building with high brick walls and no windows. They call it North High School. Its one redeeming value in the eyes of most Twin Citians is its string of perpetually great basketball teams.

I learned how to ride a bike on that sidewalk. It was a great place to learn because each of the yards had a nice grassy incline of about 3 feet from the base of the sidewalk to the plateau of the main part of the yard. So when I fell, it was onto nice soft grass. Except in front of our yard, we had a nice mix of grass and dandelions.

Over the many years I’ve driven down that street numerous times. Like a homing pigeon, I always sense a pull to that area. Change has been constant in that part of town. Each year when the cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul host a home tour were home owners can show off their remodeled houses, I like to seek out ones in this area. The neighborhood features some stately old Victorians in varying states of neglect, sitting side by side with ‘70s style minimalistic boxes that exude ugliness. But primarily you find modest one & ½ and 2-story homes built from the teens through the 30s with an endless variety of styles.

As one who has spent too many hours working on building projects in sub-developments that offer people 6 cookie cutter plans all of which look very much alike, it’s fun to drive down the street taking long glances at each house. That is until I have to swerve to miss the many rusted-out cars littering the street.

It was fun today. I was able to look out the window of the house I was in and gain a fresh perspective on the windows that years ago I could just barely look out.

Well, time for bed. Maybe I can get sentimental some time and tell you what I really think about the Old Highland neighborhood. But for now I prefer my current bed. It has other advantages.