When I go out of town for work I’m usually gone on Wednesdays. I mean, I’m gone other days during the week, too, but why does Wednesday matter? Because Wednesday around here is Trash Night and it’s my job to put the trashes out Wednesday night ahead of the early morning Thursday pickup – unless I’m not here. So, now I’ve been accused of deliberately planning my work trips to keep me away on Wednesdays. It’s all in good humor… or is it?
Have you heard of the broken windows theory? The basic idea is that visible signs of neglect – broken windows, abandoned buildings, trash, unrepaired damage – signal that nobody is maintaining or watching a place, which can encourage more disorder and crime.
I noticed the house across the street was very noticeably abandoned – the yard was completely overgrown, one of the shutters hung askew on one hinge, cobwebs covered parts of the front door. One day shortly after we moved into the neighborhood, I finished mowing our lawn and as I was having some water I looked across the street at the high weeds. I went into our garage and came out with the weed whacker, crossed the street and went to town.
That was just the start.
I brought the weeds down to a manageable height before I brought in the lawn mower. I completely filled the sun-bleached green compost bin that had been left in front of the side gate. Then fixed the shutter. The next weekend, I took my portable pressure washer to the front of the house before cleaning the outside of the windows.
While I was working, I’d thought about the broken windows theory, but that wasn’t the reason I spent hours on a house I have no attachment to. It was just because it looked like crap and I could make a difference. So, I did.
My neighbor, Tim, asked what I was doing and I told him exactly that – it looked awful, so I cleaned it up. I asked if he knew who the owner was, and he said an older couple lived there but passed away a year or so before my wife and I moved in. Allegedly there was some drawn out court fight between the children that’s been going back and forth and in the meantime the house sits empty and neglected. I say “allegedly” because Tim never spoke to any of these warring progeny – he’d heard it from a different neighbor who’d heard it from another neighbor whose wife worked with one of the adult children’s best friend or something like that.
Did it matter? Not at all.
The idea of the neighborhood gossip about the abandoned house made me chuckle as I dragged our garbage bin, and recycling bin to the curb. I filled the abandoned house’s green bin with weeds and lawn clippings, and as I set down our own green bin next to our other bins I was about to go put the abandoned house’s green bin on the curb, when I heard the gate across the street open. I looked up at the now-well-trimmed yard and noticed warm lights in the windows. From the side yard, I noticed the green bin being wheeled out by an older gentleman. He set the bin against the curb and looked over at me. Our eyes met and he waved hello before turning and heading wordlessly back to the side yard. I watched him close the side yard gate from inside wondering who this old guy was? And I had never seen anyone there – it was 10 o’clock at night, after all. There were no cars in the driveway… it bothered me, but I took one last look across the street at the warmly lit house and let it go as I turned and went back inside.
When I got home from work the next day, I brought our bins up to our side yard and noticed the abandoned house’s bin was still at the curb. Maybe the old guy only came by once a week? I crossed the street and dragged the bin up to the side yard where I reached out to open the gate and noticed it was locked with a rust-encrusted padlock that had clearly been there undisturbed for quite some time. I stared at the lock and finally decided I didn’t want to know. So, I left the bin in front of the locked gate and went home.
The next morning the bin was no longer in front of the gate.
I crossed and stood on my tip toes to peek over the still-locked gate and saw the green bin in the side yard, right next to the trash bin and recycling bin. I looked through the front window – I could look through it since I took several years of grime off the week before – and saw the inside still deserted, a layer of dust on the floor thick enough to resemble fresh snow after a storm.
The following weekend I went out to mow my yard and looked across at the abandoned house to see if it needed a trim. It did, but I also noticed the green bin out in front of the side yard gate, as if waiting for me to fill it. I laughed and dragged my mower across the street.
That Wednesday night as I put our bins out on the curb, the abandoned house shone and I heard the side gate open and the old man wheel the green bin out. He set the bin at the curb and again our eyes met and again he waved hello before turning and heading back through the side gate.
I smiled and said to myself, “So, this is how it’s going to be?”
Two weeks later I mowed the lawns again – the green bin was waiting for me in front of the gate again – before I packed and left the next morning for business. When I got back on Friday my wife said, “Did you know we have new neighbors across the street?”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes – when I put the garbage bin out Wednesday night while you were away,” she gave me a playful side-eye, “I saw an older man putting their green bin out. He seemed nice – he waved to me and I waved back.”
I nodded with a smile. “Yeah, they keep to themselves pretty much.”
