In the Neighborhood

Last year, several of my New York City friends recommended a book they were reading for their book club:  In the Neighborhood, by Peter Lovenheim, a Rochester journalist.  Not being a long-time Rochester resident, I’d never heard of it, or the murder-suicide that was the impetus for Lovenheim's quest.  It was a fairly quick and fun read, especially as I was familiar with many of the locations.  So when Mary Beth and Lauren visited recently, they asked if we could do an “In the Neighborhood” tour.  Even though the addresses of the characters aren’t given in the book, a little googling combined with the descriptions of the houses provided guidance.  We parked on Ambassador Drive, close to the author’s old house, and took a leisurely stroll down Sandringham Road. 

Gannett house

The Houston Barnard section of Brighton, with its wide boulevards, sidewalks, and lampposts, boasts a variety of architectural styles, from grand mansions, both old (like the tasteful “Gannett” house, which is the only house in this neighborhood designated as a Brighton landmark) and new (the towering Chesonis McMansion, that is out of proportion to its land and the neighborhood), to modest ranch or split-level homes;  from Tudor Revival to Craftsman-influenced.

the author's home

where it happened...

Lovenheim’s prior home, described by him as “ a contemporary split-level with brick façade, wide eaves, double front door, and circular driveway,” was easily spotted. We also found the Wills family address after a bit of internet searching, and we wondered if the current owners still had to put up with curious people like us, or whether, more likely, the incident had receded enough into the past not to be an issue. 

Lou's house

From Lovenheim’s descriptions in his book, we were also able to identify Lou’s house, but we gave up looking for any of the others and just enjoyed the walk.  We passed the house where Charlie’s grandparents had lived, as well as his cousin’s house, and waved to her in her driveway (she was one of very few people we saw outside, despite it being a glorious day).  I pointed out an odd-looking tree that someone once had explained to me was a “spite tree” – it had to do with a dispute with the neighbor, I think, so the owner cut down all of the upper branches but left what now looks almost sculptural.

spite tree

After our walk, we drove to the reservoir for its great view of downtown, with a quick detour to the neighborhood Lovenheim describes as a mini-neighborhood “built around a central grassy area, which…all the neighbors owned.”  I only knew about this hidden gem because my friend Gwen had taken me there on a walk last fall, and we had met an outgoing gentleman who invited us into his little studio on the park-side of the green. 

Luckily, my own neighborhood is very small and residents are always outside and interacting (the benefit of having lots of young children on the street), so we’re probably not at risk for an incident that would make it into the news.  Still, Lovenheim’s book inspired me to make more of an effort to get to know my neighbors and to be approachable and helpful, when I have the opportunity.  It also motivated me to order a used copy of Smugtown USA on ebay…