On Hubert Humphrey's modest home and Lodi's debate over gated communities

Are gated communities necessary for good neighborhood security? Apparently, some on the Planning Commission don't seem to think so. For an answer to this question, let's look at some relevant personal history.

During the summers of 1964 and 1965, I worked as a histology technician at the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology in Washington, D.C. A histology technician is someone who cuts tissue samples and places them on glass slides for microscopic viewing by physicians.

To get to work, I drove the same route every day from my home in Bethesda, Md., via Rock Creek Park, and then eventually through the back gates of Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

On one occasion, my father drove me. As we passed a modest red brick and white wood-sided home near Jones Mill Road, he pointed and said, "That's where Hubert Humphrey lives." These were the days before the vice president of the United States had an official residence. He was on his own to find a place to sleep.

I was shocked — not only at the modest size of the 1940s two-story home, which couldn't have been more than 1,600 square feet, but the lack of apparent security. This was only 18 months after the assassination of President Kennedy. There was no fence around the property. The corner lot was paralleled with flowing traffic. The house looked like many others in the same community.

After this discovery, I'd take a quick glance on my way to work to see if any activity could be observed. I never saw a thing. No one was in the yard. There was no movement in the windows that I could detect. There were no cars parked in front.

One day, my curiosity got the best of me. I decided to be bold and stopped to observe. There was a mailbox on the opposite corner of Jones Mill Road. I dropped in a love note to my girlfriend and leaned on the box while waiting for something to occur.

Within several seconds, It happened. A large midnight-colored '63 Mercury pulled up to my location. Six "men in black," all wearing dark glasses, stared at me.

I have no idea from where they came. I'm clueless as to how they were able to spot me. Did they control the house across the street? Were they watching from inside the VP residence? The Mercury seemed to come out of nowhere, as if it had suddenly appeared from a parallel dimension.

Surprised, I returned an embarrassed grin. I gave them a coy wave, hopped in my VW and beat a hasty retreat. Needless to say, that was the end of my loitering days.

Today, over 40 years later, the former Humphrey house is unrecognizable from its past. Ironically, a fence is now in the front yard. The building has been expanded with a large farm-style covered porch on three sides. The bricks are painted white. The siding is baby blue, and the trees exclude much of the property from view. The mailbox I leaned on is now next to the house, but its original mounting slab remains on the opposite street corner. It feels like a monument to my venture.

But I digress from the question. With all things considered, here are my thoughts on gated communities:

If our Planning Commission is willing to provide us with the kind of security that Vice President Humphrey had in those days, then I'm all for communities without walls. I'm for that "open feel" to development, the "flow" of the neighborhood, and communication with a wide range of people from "different socio-economic statuses."

But if they are not willing to do that, then I'd prefer that they keep their restrictions and meddling ideas to themselves.

It just feels safer that way.

Steve Hansen is a Lodi writer and satirist.

Reader Feedback

Godfather wrote on Nov 8, 2009 8:12 PM:

" If you are worried about security for your millions, the Tattaglias will guarantee it. "

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