Neighborhoods--A need for Accessibility

A major component defining neighborhood is accessibility.  In a neighborhood, one should be able to do more than simply live.  They should have some basic services--at least food, recreation, and school.  In a neighborhood one should be able to do more than have to drive to get to a destination, you should be able to walk and bike.  If you take a look at the planning literature, you would find that a five minute, or a quarter mile walk, is often considered the extent a typical person will walk.  After that, the thinking goes, people choose other means, usually to drive.  A quarter mile radius encompasses about 125 acres.  The web site walkscore.com gives its highest scores to areas within a five minute walk, and scores decrease from there to 30 minutes. Except for the more highly urban areas, in reality seldom do you have a mix of uses within that walking distance today.  It certainly is not present is suburban areas, where you may have at least half that distance to get to the end of your street. For sake of this post, and for those sufficiently energetic to walk more than a quarter mile, let us extend walk distance to about one-half mile, or a ten minute walk.  One would think that to get to a job, or children going to school a walk of 15 or 20 minutes, or up to a mile may be in order.  If a child attends school over two miles distant, by state law the district needs to offer busing to that student.  That is more than twice the level suggested in this post for an easy walk, although it certainly can be accomplished by bicycle.

Downtown McFarland, about two blocks in length
Source:  Google maps

Walking and biking are important, and more so than the proponents of our current standard form of development would admit.  This is shown by the health issues now present in the United States.  Form of development, it is now thought, affects our health and may well play a larger role in two major national  health issues:  childhood obesity and type II diabetes.  The continued trend in overweight children contributes to earlier puberty and a whole host of associated issues.  The current generation of young children is the first projected to have a shorter lifestyle than their parents.  Our ability to find services and schools within a neighborhood walk distance is one key component that may help address these two health issues.   This, the third post in a series on neighborhoods, will focus primarily on McFarland, WI and deal with both shopping and schools, and what has transpired in less than 25 or 30 years for walkability and bike-ability in that small community.   The first post focused on what is a neighborhood and its relation to sense of place, the second focused on the city of Sun Prairie, and the transition of commercial development in its historic downtown, and its possible effects on social capital.

Aerial view of downtown McFarland
Source:  Google maps

When I moved to McFarland in October 1990, the house in which we lived was located near both shopping and schools, with the middle school the furthest distant from our house.  The bank, grocery store, pharmacy, post office, and village hall were all within about a 10 minute walk.  Some of these places were not in an urban setting (i.e. close to the street) but were in a standard suburban form with a large parking lot adjoining the street and a walk through an asphalt “desert” to the stores.  But, hey, at least you could get there in about ten minutes.  It was not unusual for me to haul my young children down to the grocery store using their wagon to haul them and groceries back.  Major shopping trips were accomplished by the use of the car, but walking worked well for those common secondary trips.  Over the past twenty years or so the village has changed. Retail has basically moved out to USH 51, a four lane divided highway with no sidewalk.  The mall would eventually pretty much empty out and become a blight in the heart of the village.  The main use of the site would be to provide extra parking for events at the high school, which is located across the street.  Fortunately, we now have the hardware store occupying the old grocery store space in this former mall.  Perhaps it will add some vitality to the heart of McFarland.

Old grocery store and related strip mall, with sea of asphalt, bank to left
Source: Google maps

McFarland has now been defined more by the its strip everyday development along USH 51, than by its former downtown.  When my boys were young and the new grocery store was under construction in its current location on USH 51, we were travelling by the store and one of the boys asked, what was being built?  We noted that that the grocery store was going to move to the new building, he then asked, with more sense than that exhibited by the McFarland Village Board, “How will we walk there?”  He had noticed the lack of sidewalks, and perhaps the lack of good street connectivity.  Our auto-oriented culture placed walking in a secondary position, and its back door route is indirect and rather tedious.   A young child had more sense than the village board.  With the movement of the grocery and other stores to the west, next to a four lane highway, these children were being disenfranchised from being able to make a trip themselves.  In the village, the idea of a child walking on his/her own to a store to buy a treat is a rather quaint idea from the past. 

The Village of McFarland and school locations, with grade configurations
Source:  DCIMap

If any use should be walkable, one would think it would be schools.  But, here too the car culture has dominated the form of site and building design, and grade configuration.  The ability to easily walk to school is now a minor aspect of design.  The new form for a school is for it to be placed on a large amount acreage of land with a massive paved area in front of the building, barren except for cars. Children, at least from K-9 are unable to drive and are a major demographic customer to be served by the school, but yet, since the 1970’s, the schools retain their focus on auto orientation.  With, and since, the construction of the middle school, new schools in McFarland have been designed more for cars than for access by students.  To get to the middle school from where it accesses Exchange Street, a person (i.e. a child) has to walk up a rather long grade of a hill about 1,120 or more feet.  This does not include a walk to get to the drive entrance.  That is almost a quarter mile (200’ short) simply travelling up hill to the school purely on school property.  The standard walking distance is almost fully used up just from walking on school property to the entry door.  Assume a child will walk 15 minutes to school this walk will take about a third of their walk time.  

 Middle School, note its distance from the street, 1120'
Source:  DCIMap

One could say big deal--bike to school.  However, besides the school being located at the top of a rather steep slope, for most all of the years my two sons were at the middle school, the bike parking was located near Exchange Street, in a small appendage of the site.  The simplest walk route from the bike parking was through an athletic field and up the steepest part of the hill.  It may be a great slope for football conditioning, or sledding, but it is likely the last obstacle a child wants to come across on their way to school.  As if being a middle school student is not sufficient punishment, to add this steep hill on the last part of the route is to add insult to injury.  So a child bikes to school, walks over 445’ or more through a dew laden field, another 300’ along the drive or sidewalk to get to the building’s entrance, only to have wet shoes and socks for the remainder of the day.  Here we have the schools doing what every mother tells their child not to do—get their feet wet.

Walk from former bike area to Middle School driveway
Source: DCIMap

As egregious as the walk and bike example to a misplaced middle school  student may be for health, what may be even worse is the alteration of grade configuration which works counter to walking and biking to school.    McFarland, following a growing trend of suburban school districts has broken grades down into small increments for each building.  McFarland has five school buildings, and from entering kindergarten to completion of eighth grade a child will have been in FOUR different school buildings.  When it comes time for their next school building it is likely building grade configuration will be broken down even further.  (The school board is probably salivating in their dreams of  having six buildings for 12 grades.)  This started when they built what is known as the Waubesa Intermediate School (WIS) at the north end of McFarland.  Rather than create a new K-5 neighborhood school, they decided the need for voter approval was such to gain support of those in the generally older southern half of the community to break the grade configuration down and send students all over the village.  Pity the parents who have a family of four children, for which it is possible that they have to get a child to four different schools.  The School Board and Administration would not answer this author’s questions when they decided on building grade configuration as to how the next school would be configured for grades.  They also noted that they view the village as one neighborhood.  Obviously they do not understand, or care to understand, planning, neighborhoods, or for that matter a simple way to better student health.  The breakdown of grade configuration helps lead to a lack of independence for the child, the growing waist lines of our youth, and further enhances auto dependency.  The decision by the board is evidence of auto-based thinking that has in-part led to the health problems now precipitating.  They did not think ahead and will end up paying in the long run by assisting in continued deterioration of the health of adults, children and our air.

Primary (lower school) and CE after new parking and drop off construction
Source: Google maps

As earlier commented, a developing body of research shows that our form of development is affecting our health, including that of our children, who instead of walking or biking to school now get driven to school.  The Safe Routes to School guide information notes that in 1969 48% of children 5 to 14 walked or biked to school; in 2009 that figure was only 13%!  Further noting how the pattern of sprawl and its associated form, for both housing and school location, has affected our ability to walk, in 1969 41% of k-8 students lived within one mile of school (with 89% walking or biking to school), by 2009 that had dropped to 39% (with only 35% of those walking or biking to school).  The continued winnowing down of grade configuration in a school building only perpetuates the growing disparity by moving away from neighborhood schools.  A survey accomplished by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention showed that the primary reason parents drive their children to school is mainly due to distance (with a 61.5% response to that issue), with perceived traffic related danger next at 30.4%.  Of course, driving children to school only increases the traffic problems (and hence the perception) as one can easily view in McFarland by its kindergarten building.

Nice wide curb cuts to accommodate vehicle entry and exit to CE,
but where is the sidewalk for pedestrians?.....
(Photo by author)

The CDC estimates that over 25% of peak hour morning traffic is for dropping children off to school. It may not seem like much, but in the world of transportation a small extra percent of vehicles can lead to system breakdown.  The breakdown of grade configuration has created more car trips, more car trips leads to perception of less safety, less safety means more car trips, less walking and biking leads to less healthy children (and adults), less healthy individuals leads to higher health care costs, higher health care costs leads to higher insurance premiums, which leads to less disposable income.  Schools, and us as a population, have created a vicious cycle with no end in sight.  The federal government’s Safe Route to Schools program is using federal money to help put in sidewalks and paths.  In other words federal money is going to help communities fund improvements which should have been funded by the developer as part of their improvements, but was not done under the sprawl-type of suburban development that has been so common over the past 50 or more years.  This is a subsidy to the communities that plan poorly at the expense of those that have planned well.

.....there it i!  Nice orientation for auto drop off of students, but no sidewalk to the street
that is to the north (top of photo).  Is this pedestrian friendly?  I don't think so.
(Photo by author)

Last year McFarland schools spent over $250,000 to reconfigure drop off space at Conrad Elvejem (CE) and McFarland Primary (Primary), in hopes of allowing better ease of drop off for children.  In so doing the front entry of CE has moved from the street to the near the back corner.  Rather than making it easier for a child to walk to school, they now add distance.  Rather than being a building that engages the street they have divorced it from the street.  Rather than being in place for children, it has become centered on the car.  If one is walking from the east and wish to head to the new main entry they need to walk in the driveway until they reach the sidewalk, and even then the sidewalk is set up for auto drop off as it curves well beyond a direct path to follow the drop-off driveway (which is needed to accommodate vehicle stacking).  It is almost as if they expect every child living easterly of the school to be driven to the school.   All this in the large bow to accommodate the plethora of mini-vans and SUV’s, and cross-over vehicles.  The resulting traffic pattern has only increased the perception of it not being safe to walk to school, by creating a traffic nightmare around the school with a system of one way streets, stop signs which do not meet warrants, and putting the main entry away from the street.

Primary school building entrance,
which is pedestrian friendly as it is right off Johnson Street
(Photo by author)

Former CE entry right off Johnson Street
(Photo by author)

Detail of sign on door directing to Door B on the far side of the building
(Photo by author)

Door B, is off the new parking lot.
(Photo by author)

The above photo from Google Earth, shows how the school property looked before construction of the new drop off.  Please note the soccer goal post to the right

This photo shows the school after the drop off and parking lot was installed.
At the corner is a large rain garden.  Compare the photo above
(Photo by author)

The grand two or three story school buildings on a few acres of land have quickly become a dinosaur in our modern auto oriented age of school construction.  They have been replaced with a sea of asphalt and often a one story building.  The fallacy that size makes a difference has districts purchasing large acreages for schools, usually only available at the edge of a community (a trend that began in the 1970’s and continues, and incidentally the downsides of this trend are not lost on the CDC).  This only perpetuates the isolation of homes from a school through a diminished service territory.  The form of our communities is not simply a school issue, it involves all of us, and until we understand that the pattern of sprawl, whether for home, business, or school, affects our natural, social, and built environment—as well as our health—and that it sends us into a self-perpetuating pattern of only one form of transportation, this will only continue.  Some efforts are being undertaken, with the advent of neo-traditional development, but they are few, and often see themselves hampered by a market place dictated by big box development, and developers who do not like to change from the common pattern of easy sprawl.  At least the middle school in McFarland has moved the bike racks closer to the building.  A student at the middle school may have to bike up a hill, but that is preferential to the wet feet of prior students. 

Wauwatosa East High School, notice the relationship to the street

Lincoln School in Wauwatosa, it too is related to the street

 I have no illusions that the economy and thinking of today will be easily altered to produce an environment to meet the Popsicle test, but that does not mean that we cannot do better.   Once we change our form of development other items may well come around.  Most important is the health of our children, and we need to set a better example than to show our children that they only way around is by car, and that feet (whether for walking or biking) as a mode of transportation are obsolete.  The form of development, where little of importance remains in downtown or neighborhood commercial areas of our suburbs, means that children are dependent upon parents for transportation to get to places worth getting to.  Form of development does matter to show them that walking is a viable option.  It does matter as a way to give independence to those without autos.  We have lost at least one generation of free-range children.  We need to work to not lose more.

Neighborhoods--A Time of Transition in Sun Prairie

The second in a series of posts on neighborhood.

The 1993 movie “The Sandlot” was about a group of boys and their escapades over a summer, many involving baseball. Yet, I see another dimension. In that movie, which takes place in 1962, a year more appreciated by my older brothers than I who would have been four years old that summer, one can see a transition in land use taking place. The transition reminds me of the town in which I grew up as it changed from an independent small city to a suburb, which was a common occurrence in post-World War II America. While the main neighborhood in the movie has 1950 style homes, the street pattern remains seemingly on a standard system. But Scotty Smalls’ town still had a traditional downtown. Over intervening decade or two it likely changed as did that in my hometown of Sun Prairie, WI. Scotty and his friends could buy their chew, sweets and baseballs, not unlike what was possible in the old traditional downtown of Sun Prairie. My first post involved neighborhoods as a sense of place, while this post is primarily about the transition in commercial development that took place in the 1960’s into the 1980’s in my hometown, and its potential effects on social capital.

Sun Prairie Main Street, circa 1875.  Notice arrangement of buildings to
the street, and little building articulation

I grew up off of Dewey Street, about three blocks from downtown Sun Prairie. Most of the basic needs of a child, or adult, could pretty well be met within the three or four blocks along main street. I could browse comic books in the dime store owned by Mr. Weisensel, a neighbor, get clothes at one of two clothing stores, or get a doughnut at the local bakery. An older brother would develop his acumen on the billiard table, and heaven knows what else, at the smoke-filled pool hall, next to the bank. My dad’s small sole person law practice would be across the street from the bank, with a jeweler on one side, and a printer and small grocery store to the other. My sister and I would pick raspberries from our large patch and sell them to the grocer. The one liquor store, owned by another neighbor, was in a nearby block, and across the street was the old Langer garage, and a major employer, the Wisconsin Porcelain Company. I never thought before, but a liquor store across from a blue collar factory made a great deal of sense. I can imagine the workers picking up a 12 pack of beer after getting their paycheck.

Grid street pattern

But, my purpose is not to wax nostalgic as much as it is point out change that has occurred within our neighborhoods, communities, and to a large degree, I believe, our social fabric. Within four blocks of my home, I was educated through grade 8, went to church, could have most of my needs and required services met, and be at the swimming pool and corn festival within four to five blocks from my home. This seldom occurs any more today as businesses have moved first to shopping center, originally near the outskirts of town, but now with sprawl surrounding them, and now to the ubiquitous big box locations and power centers. Other than a street name, the same big box locations are replicated throughout the nation. The beauty of the traditional downtown is that it was organic, it was a natural occurrence based on what people thought best. After walking a few blocks to get to downtown, why would one want to walk another block though a parking lot to a store? If you parked, it was on the street, and while you may have to walk a couple hundred feet, it is likely less than you would have at a mega-store parking lot to get to an entrance. Big boxes are surrounded by what developers term outlots, frontage development filled with restaurants and smaller stores. But, unlike a downtown where you would walk between various shops and restaurants, in mall America, you need to basically drive as walking is difficult at best, and even if a sidewalk is provided walking through a parking lot is much like going to the dentist. There is no real sense of individualism or community identity in the locations of our malls or big box stores. They do try, however, with their names of by-gone natural landscapes the large parking lots and stores have long since replaced. The names are often intended to convey a sense of place, a sense of community, but in what is really an ersatz place, a contrived sense of what makes a neighborhood.

Pattern known as Sprawl.  Note the cul-de sacs,lack of connectivity
and one dimensional land use

The change to suburban Sun Prairie started when I was a child, and two events hold in my memory of the change occurring. As a young child it was first noticed when the former pea field behind us was converted to one of the many auto oriented subdivisions which would develop in the city. Without sidewalks, a new development pattern would engulf our natural landscapes. It would typify the notion or sense that walking is not needed. If one wants to go somewhere—drive, and there will be a sea of asphalt to await the Chevy, or Ford. If I had attended public school, the elementary school was perhaps two blocks distant, but it would have been a very long way by street, since the lack of a grid system resulted in a very indirect street pattern from home. Who cares about the disenfranchisement of the young or the elderly? Today the mother and her minivan is a commonly accepted demographic group—hence the birth of the soccer mom.

Historic Sun Prairie City Hall, notice how it gave presence to the corner,
and facades of adjoining structures

The second event was the fire at Schweiger’s Drug store in downtown Sun Prairie in March 1975, which destroyed or affected a number of adjoining businesses. Downtown would never recover as a perfect storm of the fire, aging proprietors, and the advent of the large indoor mall would replace a street on which a child could walk and enjoy a true Maxwell Street Day experience. From a social sense, I think I realized that Sun Prairie was no longer the small town in which I had grown up was when in the 1980’s I went to a hardware store at the Main Shopping Center to pick up some nuts and bolt, and was paying for it by check and was asked for identification. The first time in Sun Prairie that had happened to me. Prior to that I think most persons in town recognized the last name if not from my Dad, than from the traditions passed down from the now legendary antics of my older brothers.

News Article on Schwieger Drug Store Fire, 1975
Source: newspaperarchive.

If my brother who frequented the pool hall got in trouble, someone only need go across the street to visit my dad in his office. If I wanted to purchase some clothes, the proprietor may make a call to my mother to be assured they would meet with her approval. How my older brothers were able to purchase a 24 case of beer and (try to) hide it under a line of pine trees in our yard I don’t know. If you did not know the proprietors, they certainly knew you, as it was apparently not difficult to pick out a Hovel boy. Along with a traditional neighborhood feel, I believe the car culture has also caused us to lose the neighborhood cohesiveness. A child needs to get driven to a mall, or a big box to clothes shop. Lacing the convenience, they also lack the ability to develop independence by doing it themselves. Is it any wonder a term in common use today is “helicopter parent”? Schools, since the 1970’s, are at the periphery on large acreages causing few to walk and most be driven or bussed. Is it any reason why walking and biking to school has significantly decreased from 1969 to 2009? And we have fewer farm households than fifty to sixty years earlier, although we have more exurban and suburban homes. In his book Bowling Alone Robert Putnam notes the decrease in social capital in the nation. TV, he says is partly at fault, but I think part of the cause is in a form of development that makes knowing your merchant more difficult, where big boxes and large parking lots have replaced familiarity and the small town fell prevalent to Scotty Smalls.

Basis of Neighborhood

Communities we often like best are those small ones that have preserved the broad retail and services of their downtowns, they give a comfort, or familiarity, even though they are distant and most often in vacation destinations. Yet we have destroyed these places in our own communities. I suspect that the decrease in social capital may, at least be due in part, to the fact that the manager of the Walmart, Menard’s, or member of a large law firm may well be less connected to the Community than the proprietor of the small store front clothing store, the owner of the Coast-to-Coast hardware store, or the one man law firm practicing law for the homeowners and farmers of the community. These latter merchants and professional businessmen, made up a large part of the social capital of the community whether it be a civic club, a church board, or in a bowling or softball league. These activities formed a crucial backbone to the social capital that Putnam describes. Yes, we have our Optimist and Lion clubs today, but, as Putnam notes, they too are declining. They may always be there, but likely not to the degree they were in the past.

Wisconsin Porcelain Company (appears to be their newer building)

Putnam also notes a change in where people live compared to the earlier times of Scotty Smalls’ age. At that time housing was not near as segregated. For example, the owner of the Wisconsin Porcelain lived in a beautiful wooded lot, but down the street was standard Sun Prairie housing of the 1950’s or earlier. While my small town lawyer father lived on Dewey St, so did two small business owners, and blue collar workers at the porcelain. We did not think in terms of social strata. Children played with each other and became friends, regardless of class or income status. Today we see a continued social demarcation based on house prices and the now ever present McMansions.

A type of McMansion

Sun Prairie has tried to reignite some of the sense of a traditional neighborhoods, of a community that was lost with the advent of our suburban form. The downtown Cannery Square redevelopment of part of the porcelain company, Legion Hall, and Canning Company, to name a few is the intended development to do this. Yet, its effort has not been fully successful. While desiring a traditional urban form, the form it created is not quite right. Its buildings do not form a nice outdoor place for the public sidewalk, some are too articulated, others due to placement. But, our tendency to desire big box retail and malls over small shops has left out a crucial retail component. While important, a successful downtown requires more than eating and drinking establishments, city hall, or the Edward Jones office. After all, the corner taverns are still present in Sun Prairie. Eating is one activity that cannot be outsourced or obtained from the internet, so no wonder it takes on added importance in civic engagement. Interconnectedness too has changed from familiarity and personal greeting to Facebook and other aspects of social media.

Cannery Square in Sun Prairie, WI

As for me, the sandlot we played on was in our large field, part of it a floodplain. Our friends would bike or walk over to join in almost daily games of softball when we were children. We did not have a large fence with a monstrous dog, but we had a line of evergreen trees with a creek beyond. Beyond that creek is that standard suburban subdivision which lacks sidewalks and connectivity to the community. From my point of view, our current form of development is more than a metaphor for the decline in neighborhood and perhaps more importantly in a decline in social capital.


Unless otherwise noted, photos from Google images.

Tragedy in Big Flats

The Town of Big Flats, WI is not well known.  The claim to fame for this rural Adams county town, according to its web site, is being near the geographic center of Wisconsin.  Not at, but near. (Pittsville in Wood County claims to be the geographic center, although the state cartographer's office simply says it is 9 miles southeast of Marshfield,)  It was in this lightly populated town, with a 2010 census of less than 1100 persons, that tragedy struck the family of Jacob Hofmeister.  Jacob, if one can believe the relationship calculator on my genealogy software, was my first cousin twice removed.  A rather odd way to list a relationship in my mind, and one that seemingly makes him seem closer to me than I would otherwise think.  Jacob’s mother was a sister to my great grandfather Martin Hovel.  Siblings Marie and Martin emigrated with their parents and six siblings from Bohemia, part of the Czech Republic.  The patriarch of the family, Josef, died in 1882.   Marie Hovel, would marry Anton Hofmeister, a butcher, on 7 May 1878 in Jefferson, WI.  In 1880 the couple would appear in the 1880 US census with their first child, John who was one year of age.    The 1885 Iowa census, Union Township, Worth County, shows us the family had grown to three children, the youngest at the time being Jacob who, listed at age one, was born on 31 January 1884.  (WWI draft card has his birth year as 1887, but if he was born in that year he would not have been in the 1885 census; his grave stone provides a birth year of 1884.)  Living with the Hofmeister family was Marie’s mother Anna (nee Jodl) Hawel (Hovel or Havel), and Marie and Martin’s youngest brother, Wenzel.  Marie, also known as Mary, would die in Iowa on 7 August 1896 at age 41.  Jacob was the third of seven children born to Anton and Marie. 

 Jacob Hofmeister's WWI Draft Registration Card
Source: Familysearch.org

In 1900 the Hofmeister’s, absent Mary who had passed away in 1896, were still living in Union Township, next to another group of relatives, Anna and Jacob Fitzl.  Anna was a sister to Marie Hovel Hofmeister.  The Hofemister family would later move to near Necedah, WI.  The 1910 census has Anton, and three of his children, including Jacob, living in Colburn, Adams County, WI.  According to a news article on the passing of Jacob’s 104 year old sister Elizabeth in 1996, after Marie Hovel Hofmeister died they moved to Wisconsin, where they tried to farm, “but the land was too poor for a livelihood.”  While it is peculiar that the family would leave the rich farm land of north central Iowa for the central sands of Wisconsin, for some reason they did so.  This migration requires further study.    

Mary Hawel Hofmeister grave stone
Source: Iowa grave stone project

Jacob Hofmeister was a farmer in the town with his wife, two children ages 11 and 9, and his brother-in-law, Peter Jensen, a farm hand.  His WWI draft card describes him as tall, but with a stout build.  Light brown hair would cover his head, and provide a contrast for his blue eyes.  Jacob and Martha would have three children.  The family would be struck by not an uncommon occurrence, the youngest child, Alma would die at just over three months of age in December 1918.  While I lack evidence, one can think that they home in which they lived was a more than likely a typical wooden Wisconsin farm house.

Reportedly Martha and Jacob Hofmeister
See note below

It was on this date, in 1926 that the farmhouse would catch fire in the early morning hours of that late summer Sunday, September 12, 1926.  News reports have some differences in the account of the fire.  However, the fire apparently started in the kitchen, and as one news reports says, by a lightning strike.  A common thread of the reports is that the Martha jumped out of a second floor window, as reported by the Appleton Post Crescent she “received injuries from which she may die.”  Her brother, Peter also jumped from a second floor window with serious burns.  Jacob and his son and daughter were not as fortunate.  One report has Jacob getting outside, but seeing that his two children were not with him, he did the one thing a father would do, but we are told today to never do, and that is go back into a burning building.  The results of why we are told not to reenter a burning building is because of its usualy terrible result.  This is shown by the now understood fact that a fire in a dwelling, according to experts, will double in size every 30 to 60 seconds.  An Underwriter Laboratories study shows that a living room will be in a flash fire, essentially totally consumed, in less than five minutes.  Does knowing that want to have you make sure your smoke detectors are working?  They do say that fires reach flash point earlier than originally estimated, showing that modern construction techniques may be less fire resistant than older construction methods.

Reportedly Ina and Harold Hofmeister
See note below

The Hofmeister family in 1926 did not have the luxury of a fire detector.  The fire in the Hofmeister home must have reached the second floor by the time the family awoke as Peter Jensen jumped out of the second floor with burns already on his body.  The Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune, in its report of the tragedy would first say “The father was cremated in an attempt to save the lives of his children from the fire.”  It would later go on to add further detail: “the father started down the stairway with the two children, but the timbers gave way and the three precipitated into the cauldron of flames.  Unable to find the two children, Hoffmaster (sic) made for safety, but it was too late.  His clothing burned off, and severely burned from head to foot, he passed away 12 hours later at the Friendship hospital.”  

Jacob Hofmeister Grave stone
See note below

Jacob and his two children were buried in Niebull Cemetery on Bighorn Avenue, in the Town of Big Flats, Adams County, WI, next to the daughter Alma who lived but from Oct 3, 1918 to Dec 13, 1913.  Martha, Jacob’s wife, would survive her injuries, and would pass away on May 1, 1962 (some evidence has it as 1966) while living in California.  She, and her brother Peter, would be hospitalized and unable to attend the 15 September funeral of her husband and two children.

Hofmeister family grave site
See note below

This was a terrible tragedy for a family that had already seen its share of heartache from the death of a three month old daughter several years earlier.  There is a saying that a mother should not outlive a child, but Martha Jensen Hofmeister would outlive the three offspring she bore with Jacob. One can only imagine the heartache of a women to lose her last two children and her husband in one terrible event.  While the story was tragic, it also shows us the resolve of the human spirit and love of a father—one who so loved his children that he gave his life in an attempt to rescue them from the burning flames on that late summer morning.  Jacob Hofmeister was not a well-known captain of industry, or a wealthy landowner, but a common Wisconsin farmer who found himself in a difficult situation where he did his best, even though the event would have a tragic outcome.    

Note:  Photos and grave stone images, unless otherwise noted, were found at: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=90468783, or related links.  Photos of people uploaded by man named Adam Turner, gravestones by a man named Keith.

Neighborhood--A Chicago Tale

Perhaps it was 35 or more years ago when I journeyed from the small city where I grew up, Sun Prairie, WI to the “Windy” city to visit an Aunt and Uncle who lived on the southwest side in in the Beverly Neighborhood of Chicago. I recall it as a pleasant neighborhood, defined by grid streets with sidewalks, narrow lots with modest one and two story homes near each other and garages setback from the street.  hence, the house helped form the public street realm.  Major collector streets perhaps were found every 10 to twenty blocks. In the language of the Neo-Traditional Neighborhood planners of today, it would be termed a nice T4 area. In a sense, it is very similar to parts of Wauwatosa (where some relatives live) or areas of Milwaukee. The commercial corridors, however, possessed a form more representative of strip development than that related to traditional down towns or neighborhood centers. For some of the the commercial strips at least the building was near the street, rather than a form which would become prevalent in the suburban development pattern in the 1960’s with the building setback with the sea of asphalt parking between the street and the building. Yet, they worked together to form a neighborhood. I had two experiences on that visit which have stayed with me to this day, and which made an impression of me on the sense of neighborhood in that large city.

Grid street pattern.

Most often we think of neighborhoods as simply a geographic area. Geographically they may be formally defined by a governmental unit, such as in the City of Chicago, self-defined as one often finds in suburbs where each subdivision think of themselves as a neighborhood.  To show how geographically diverse they may be, the City of Madison notes the existence of 120 neighborhood associations for a city with a population of 233,000, while the City of Chicago, which is over ten times the population of Madison, recognizes 77 community areas, which are often referred to as neighborhoods. (Others say Chicago has over 200 neighborhoods.) But, neighborhoods are more than a defined geographic area. They are composed of a collection of people, businesses and services. In earlier days of settlement in many of our major cities, and even small cities and towns, neighborhoods were defined, in part, by ethnic enclave. Churches or schools were often a key defining and gathering component of a neighborhood—they provided its sense of place. It was this interaction of residents and their experience which would form their thoughts and opinions which formed a feeling of neighborhood. In this sense, neighborhood boundaries may be fluid and depend on where you live, what you do, where you go and what you experience within a certain area of geography. For example, you may live at the edge of a defined neighborhood association, but have more interaction and experience with one next to you than part of your own formally defined neighborhood. Essentially, each person will develop their own neighborhood view—one based on their experience. Neighborhood is one level of spatial organization, but it is defined in large part by our senses. Sight, and touch most particularly will help form the neighborhood, but also hearing, and perhaps, as suggested by geographer Yi-Fu Tuan, even our taste and smell. Our experience gives meaning and position to form this sense of place—one’s view of neighborhood.

Suburban style street pattern

In that one weekend in Chicago, I experienced a great deal of what it is like to live in a neighborhood.  Life in a large city is not impersonal, it could be the direct opposite.  The first experience occurred on the night of my arrival, which was probably just before 9:00 pm. I recall it being a day similar to this in both weather and calendar--just after Labor Day.  After greeting my Aunt and Uncle and small talk of my trip down, my Uncle suggested we walk a few blocks to a corner ice cream shop. Only a lactose intolerant young man from the dairy state will turn down ice cream, even if the ice cream may not from Wisconsin. So, in darkness of a late summer evening we walked the few blocks to the ice cream shop, but only to find it had closed at 9:00 pm. Lacking no timidity, and somewhat to my embarrassment, my Uncle knocked on the door and explained to the proprietor that his nephew from Wisconsin (I always enjoyed how our relatives in ILL would refer to us as being from WI, like we may have been from Mars, although I think they took it as more a source of pride of where we were from than with any indignation) was just arrived in town and was it possible to get some ice cream? The shop was opened, and we ordered our ice cream cones, and of course kindly thanked the gentleman. Now, some may have viewed this as customer service, but perhaps presaging my career, I did not see it so much as an act of customer service as an example of a friendly neighborhood. This is what a small shop, locally owned will provide. It was allowed by neighborhood interaction. I do not think the soda fountain at the local Rennebohm drug store in Sun Prairie would have provided such service, nor likely would the McFarland Café just a block from my home.

It is about more than being in Mr. Roger's Neighborhood

The second experience related more to general interaction. Prior to dinner, my Aunt and Uncle had a routine to sit on their front porch, more likely just a stoop, to have some downtime, and enjoy a drink. I joined them that Saturday night, only to find that what occurred was neighbor interaction. Often it was not simply people walking by, saying how do you do, but rather a stop on the sidewalk to exchange a few words, or a walk up the sidewalk for some for a more intimate conversation. I learned that while cities are often perceived as impersonal, the neighborhood level, their city within a city, is likely just as neighborly—if not more so—than suburbs. My Aunt and Uncle could have sat in their backyard, but they chose the front. Today, our homes tend to more emphasize backyards. One only needs to think of the decline in front porches (where if they now exist it is likely not very usable or used) and emphasis on decks in the rear yard, a desire for that sense of privacy. I am not sure if as a population our desire for privacy drove our decks, or if it was our movement to decks has made us more private. Of course, also prevalent today is the snout house, where the garage is more prevalent than a house, much less a porch. Snout houses do not do much to encourage interaction among neighbors.  Yet, interaction is key to community.

Example of a snout house

I cannot help but think that the form of our development plays a role in a decline of civic engagement. Robert Putnam in his book Bowling Alone discusses the decline in civic engagement in the United States noting how it started in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s and has continued down since. It was in the 1960’s that the change in the development pattern of our nation really took off as suburbs exploded with large lots, large setbacks and no sidewalks. From there we have created the ever present snout house as a garage takes precedence over walkability and aesthetics.  Whether it is involvement in local clubs, or at one’s church, civic engagement, as Alexis de Tocqueville noted in his 19th century seminal work Democracy in America, has been a cornerstone of American democracy, and as a nation we have moved away from that engagement. Time will tell whether current interactions via Facebook, twitter and the like can bring about a new level of community interaction and involvement. Our form of development may be one factor in the decline, or it may not be at all, as correlation is not necessarily causation. Yes, there are outliers, where bowling is not alone, where engagement occurs, but as Putnam’s research shows, the decline is prevalent across varied demographic groups. But I saw engagement well at work on that late summer evening on South Claremont Drive in Chicago years ago. Modest homes closely spaced may be an idea of torture to some, but it is a land use pattern that is efficient, preserves land, but more to the personal allows engagement and promotes variety of interactions. I have not been on S Claremont Drive in Chicago for quite sometime, and things may have changed.   In this day, however, when people are more attuned to themselves and the TV (the latter being one of Putnam's explanations for decline in civic engagement), providing a form of development that at least allows engagement and interaction with neighbors is better than a form that makes it more difficult.  Neighborhoods are more than a geographic district, they tell us about ourselves, our likes, and our dislikes.  Does function follow form?

This is part one in a short series of posts regarding neighborhoods.