(Images: Susan Lenfestey)
On her 80th birthday, a Lowry Hill resident since 1974 takes stock: The trees are dying again, the commuters are cutting through again and the suburbs are calling again. Progress!
I’m writing this on my 80th birthday. I’m aware of the tendency of geezers to gas on about the past, but this being my birthday, I get to go there. And this being the Hill & Lake Press, I need a neighborhood hook.
The Trees
When we moved to Lowry Hill in 1974, the elm trees were dying from Dutch elm disease. We watched the arching beauties get girded with a red belt, then waited for the heartbreaking sound of chain saws and crashing limbs.
“It’s not clear which will go first, me or the maples.”
The elms were replaced with a variety of saplings. On Lincoln Avenue, the Park Board’s choice was spindly Norway maples. Our shady yard, home to hostas and ferns, became a sunny savanna. But as the maples grew, the sun-lovers shrank, and once again we became a mossy glen. OK, that’s the goal.
But this spring I noticed that some limbs on the maples were not leafing out in their usual chartreuse and lime-colored lace. A call to the Park Board forester confirmed that the trees were being strangled by their own shallow roots and, as it turns out, were a poor choice for the narrow boulevard.
The dead limbs are scheduled to be trimmed, but the trees are doomed. It’s not clear which will go first, me or the maples.
The Suburbs
When we moved to Lowry Hill, city living was not popular, and houses were not pricey. The advent of the automobile in the 1920s had encouraged wealthy families, many of whom had built Lake of the Isles and Mount Curve mansions, to move to the western suburbs for huge lawns and life on the “big” lake.
Other families who could afford it soon followed, and by the 1950s and 1960s, suburban living was the sine qua non of middle-class existence.
In 1976, the Lowry Hill Neighborhood Association sent me, the eager new kid on the block, to a national conference called Back to the Cities, where we discussed how to lure young families to leave suburbia for the bright lights of the city. In our case, proximity to downtown and Uptown, as well as nearby parks and lakes, made that a no-brainer, and soon our shabby chic neighborhood became pricey chic.
But the pendulum may be swinging the other way. Although home sales in Hill & Lake Press land are said to be holding, I know of three families planning to leave our neighborhood for the suburbs, citing instability of Minneapolis schools, public safety and tax hikes.
To be fair, perspectives also swing. A recent first-time visitor from Maine, the 20-something-year-old friend of our granddaughter, said to us, “Boy oh boy is Minneapolis a dream!”
The Traffic
When we moved to Lowry Hill, commuters from the suburbs used our residential streets as a shortcut to downtown. The neighborhood organizations petitioned the city to put in stop signs and speed bumps so our streets would stay safe for pedestrians, bike riders and kids.
But with the recent makeover of Hennepin Avenue, said to make it safer for pedestrians, bike riders and kids on scooters, car drivers are now using side streets like Irving and Colfax to avoid the congested traffic on Hennepin. As a result, the city is now putting in new speed bumps the size of blimps, hoping to at least slow down the new surge of traffic.
Uptown
When we moved to Lowry Hill, Uptown was just becoming funky town, a hip destination for shoppers, beboppers and McPunks, and it thrived as such for a few decades.
But in 2018, the city removed all parking on Hennepin between Lake Street and 31st Street to make it more bike and pedestrian friendly. Instead, it played a key role in driving out businesses and creating a dead zone.
The city has just announced plans for another construction project at Hennepin and Lake, which includes creating short-term parking spots on Hennepin between Lake and 31st. Kudos for correcting the error, but Hennepin area businesses will have to endure more disruption in the short term.
Full Circle
We all like to leave the mortal coil believing we made the world, or at least the neighborhood, a better place, but I’m not sure I’m feeling it.
“We all like to leave the mortal coil believing we made the world, or at least the neighborhood, a better place, but I’m not sure I’m feeling it.”
Well, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. And when my skein runs out, the grace to leave Lowry Hill with grace and good humor — and a passel of opinions for the saplings who replace me.
Susan Lenfestey writes for the Hill & Lake Press. She lives in Lowry Hill.
