By Jenny Hartnett
http://stream.publicbroadcasting.net/production/mp3/wbfo/local-wbfo-733665.mp3
Buffalo, NY – In June, my neighbor Tom was shot. Over the past several years since Tom has retired because of his arthritic knees and heart trouble, he has been perfecting his gardens. In his back yard, Tom created a large pond, filled with myriad colored koi fish, surrounded by bearded irises, Japanese maples, and lilies. A tri-level waterfall aerates the pond, and he enjoys demonstrating to my children how he dumps the fish food into this churning part so that they fish get some exercise going after the food. Out in his front yard, Tom has almost finished his rock garden. From the porch to the sidewalk, the yard is completely full of rocks, mounded about three feet deep, set off by signature rocks on the sides and accented with ornamental trees, flowering bushes and more irises. One of the signature rocks is just the right height for Tom to sit on out in his front yard in the nicer weather and talk to his neighbors. Tom's never been married, and while he loves his nieces and nephews, has no children of his own. His garden is his pride and joy, and he was outside late Monday night by his garden when he surprised two robbers. They shot him.
This week voices of University Heights neighbors were heard through emails exchanged among the Buffalo Watch list server. Voices of fear: "I'm going house shopping, because I'm 60 years old and have been waiting all winter to open my sliding glass door, which is now locked shut." Voices of reason: "Odds are, [the perpetrators] were not planning on shooting, but they did spy the opportunity to steal some stuff and run, and they thought that they would be undetected in doing so until they [got] 'surprised.'" Voices of sympathy: "I live in between two drug dealers and have been trying for years to get something done about it to no avail." Voices devoid of hope: "I don't feel safe any more ... I am sick of government bureaucracy and stonewalling."
This week, while out walking my dog, I met Ruth. I've been living on this street for almost 10 years, but Ruth and I have never run into each other before. She was coming up from Tom's driveway where she had been checking on his flower garden. Ruth stopped to admire my dog and we began talking about Tom. She mentioned that she had been a nurse, and I asked where she worked. She explained that when her circulation began to deteriorate, she switched from hospital nursing to being a school nurse at Sweet Home Central for 20 years before she retired. "I'll bet you were the type of nurse students would go see just for a conversation," I said. "That's right," she answered, her eyes sparkling. "They loved me and I loved them. All it takes is an overture of kindness to get kids to open up to you." Then she switched topics. "I've been married 65 years now. My husband, Samuel, has Alzheimer's. It's awful. I have to take care of him like a baby. But I don't mind. We have had many, many great years together." Even though Ruth and I had just met, we talked for almost 20 minutes and ended the conversation with a hug.
I was uplifted by my conversation with Ruth, and I thought about the parallel between her longevity in marriage and her caring approach to her husband's trials, and how we might, as a community respond to recent events. Ruth and Samuel's situation will eventually come to a medically predictable ending: death. But along the way, she is tenderly caring for him. Our neighborhood doesn't have to die. It's sick, yes. But it is getting attention increased attention from police, politicians, universities and leaders from concerned religious groups, businesses and the community. Care is increasing through planting trees, cleaning up streets, enforcing public nuisance laws, and promoting community events such as the Farmer's Market at UB South Campus and the Capen Garden Walk.
My father, who lived in Buffalo from the 1940s through the 1960s remembers the glory days of the University Heights neighborhood: pristine, full of families and thriving businesses. The deterioration saddens him when he visits. The problems we're now facing are difficult, but they do not have to be terminal. If we are willing to care and rekindle the "civic duty" that was once a community's spine, we can be a healthy neighborhood once more.
Listener-Commentator Jenny Hartnett lives in Buffalo's University District. She reports her neighbor, Tom, has recovered from his wounds and is once again taking walks.