The Street

Almost two years ago, my wife and I bought a house on Sidney Street on St. Paul’s West Side.  According to a map I have from 1928, Sidney was once known as Gates Street, and was later renamed after Sidney D. Jackson, a developer that only spent about two years in the neighborhood in the mid-19th century (according to Donald L. Empson’s wonderful book “The Street Where You Live”).

The West Side is a hodgepodge of old and new, ornate and plain, quiet and loud, peaceful and disruptive.  Nothing unique or remarkable in the broader sense, but steeped in banality for the greater good.  The smaller things that some neighborhoods would take for granted, and the bigger things that leaves a lot to be desired.

We primarily chose to move here because of its uniqueness in being fairly plain and diverse.  Different enough to offer a break from our semi-homogeneous living experiences, and affordability in a neighborhood that wasn’t totally run down.  We knew that we wanted a house that was older with character and flexability, and we knew that we could find a house like that here.

As with any house, you find all of quirks well after you move in.  All sorts of things you want to fix up and change, by no means radically different than a lot of home buyers.  We’ve done a lot of the little things that make a house more livable and comfortable.  And we know that there’s a lot more that needs to be done.

The street, though, is a story in itself.

Our stretch of Sidney Street lies in between Robert Street to the west, and Highway 52 to the east.  It’s made up of almost all single-family housing stock, and a good mix of rental and owner-occupied homes.  Our house is about half-way between the two.  And while there’s no access to Sidney from hwy. 52, we seem to get our share from off Robert and Oakdale Ave.

There are scads of children around here…mostly because of our proximity to Riverview Elementary School and the Boys & Girls Club.  But also because, well, there are a lot of kids.  There also seem to be many teens mostly cruising to each others’ houses, blasting music all times of the day.  The adults tend to keep to themselves.  Fixing their cars in the driveway, dealing drugs, tending to their yards.  Those are just the things you see, not to infer something nefarious.

My objective in starting this blog was to capture some of the things that make this unremarkable street different and unique.  I really do like living here; and I’m not going to use every post to complain (though, I can’t help but not at times).  I will try to include stories of neighbors being neighbors; neighbors being assholes; neighbors being recluses; streets being conduits; streets being playgrounds; homes being heart-felt expressions.  A neighborhood being a neighborhood.

As a primer, I’ve taken some pictures of what I see every day.  Any and all comments are welcome and, obviously, encouraged.  Thanks for reading.

vacant

mural on Joseph's Market

looking west

random house

garage