THEY CAME, they saw, they conquered. And they left a giant new home that dwarfs the neighborhood.
It was like living on Broadway, watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition Savannah just across from my beautiful and solemn home – the one I bought when I left Historic Savannah for a simpler and more subdued way of life.
But no more. As one of the neighbors pointed out, the split pea green house overshadowing my sanctity would make a wonderful float in next years Saint Patrick’s Day parade.
The crew was marvelous, considerate and kind. I was even put up in a hotel because their machinery was overpowering every pore of my body and home. When I did come home to write and eat, I had to swerve through snake-like car traffic and enter through the lane to my garage.
But that didn’t bother me. What unraveled my nerves was the people tromping over my lawn, smashing cigarette butts in my driveway and destroying my grass. Several people even rang my doorbell and said they would like to see my house.
Yes, it was charitable and kind and loving to see a community come together to help a family. But does it have to be so opulent? Do we have to be slaves to reality television to be kind to our neighbors and community?
I now feel like I’m living on a Hollywood set when I see that big green house – or “The House,” as it has come to be known, almost like “The Book,” as John Berendt’s Midnight In The Garden of Good and Evil is labeled.
A local architect who lives nearby said the house is too big for the lot, and not architecturally compatible to our little 55th Street. I hope the producers of the show consider the neighborhood before tackling their next project….
The day arrives for the family to get their house. Paula Deen is standing across the street from me, and so are 2500 other people waiting to see the new family. The black limo does about thirty practice runs up and down 55th just in front of my door.
Every time they approach the intersection the crowd roars and holds up signs and a few cheerleaders tumble in the air.
I rush back inside and shut my door. This is the most surrealistic moment of my life and I’m trapped here.
More metro police arrive. They have been told to report at 1 p.m and be prepared to stay until 8 p.m. Some have made commitments for secondary jobs but they are trapped with me.
The family are filmed entering the house, but they don’t stay there. They are downtown at a hotel. The Simpsons move in the next day and the crowd is gone, only onlookers and still heavy security.
My friend comes for dinner and we take a walk across Abercorn Street, and are stopped by a security guard, who looks about twelve years old, sitting on a folding chair. He tells me to go back to my side of the street and not to cross over the median, where a portable bathroom stares at my kitchen window.
I tell him I walk this street on a daily basis, but he insists that I go back. When I ask him why, he says, “The family has moved in and they don’t want anybody to look at them.”
“I’ll walk with my eyes closed,” I say.
He stands up. My friend says, “She’s a neighbor.” The security guard rolls his eyes and answers, “We know.”
Now the weekend arrives and the intersection in front of my house is still blocked off. I brew my coffee and look out my kitchen window at a toilet.
I dash outside and complain, and it’s gone in 15 minutes. I’m left to wonder if the volunteers who worked so diligently and lovingly are going to pressure-wash the film of dust that covers my white brick home that settled there from the blasting and drilling.
I will visit my new neighbors; take them flowers and a casserole. And I will probably have a For Sale sign on my lawn in 2011.
Hooray for Hollywood!
This article appears in Nov 17-23, 2010.
I knew we could count on Connect to publish an article about Savannahians being “slaves to reality television.” It’s hard to believe that living on the corner of Abercorn as the author does was ever subdued. I suspect that the extreme hubbub will die down long before the author gets around to putting the For Sale in her yard. I too wonder why that house was painted mint green, but what baffles me more is why the author couldn’t just appreciate the spectacle without becoming overly perturbed by the inconvenience.
So Shana, the author is supposed to be thrilled that her lawn was damaged, her house covered in debris and being told that she can’t walk down a public street that she lives on, all because her neighbors just moved back in? I’m sure that they were not given that favor when they moved in the first time so what makes them so much more special now? They should consider the feelings of the neighbors they disrupted while the process was under way. America as a whole is a slave to reality. All we have to do is turn on any station and we’re inundated with so called reality shows. In no way, shape or form is it reality. And we need to remember that. Reality “stars” are not stars. They are everyday people willing to rent themselves out for cash and 15 minutes of fame. I am glad that someone has shown the other side of the coin in this situation.
So this is the only home in Savannah with an odd color? The horror of it all. o_O
Are we really going to get snotty because the house is green? I understand some of the author’s frustrations, but to tell you the truth, it sounds more bitter than anything. This was a very positive experience for this family. It was life-changing. It brought the community together. There just always has to be one person to take all that positive and turn it into a negative.
Very sad.
I’m very sympathetic to the fact that living across the street from the Extreme Makeover home would be aggravating and inconvenient for several weeks. And I do believe the show producers should have been sensitive to crowd control, neighbors and neighboring property.
However, this woman reminds me of the old tv character who spent all day peering out from behind her curtains, spying on and complaining about the neighbors.
“Dashing” out to the street because there’s a toilet waiting for pickup during the remodeling and the fact that the security guard was all too familiar with this woman lead me to think she was a pain in the backside from day one of the project. (Were all neighbors given complimentary stays at a hotel or was this particular woman offered the hotel in an attempt to appease her complaints?)
I shouldn’t think a person would move to the historic district if they don’t like activity and tourists. Just as you don’t move to busy Abercorn Street “for a simpler and more subdued way of life.” There are plenty of suburbs and rural areas that offer that nature of ambiance.
The house dwarfs the neighborhood? I live in a similar area that has a charming assortment of houses–of many sizes and colors. Yes, I can find any number of homes in Savannah with color schemes I don’t care for, but that doesn’t make me the arbiter of good taste.
Commendably, the show and community reached out to help a family in need. But I certainly don’t read anything “charitable or kind” in this woman’s letter. Did she once mention concern for the family?
I’d be leery of the false sincerity and contents of any foodstuffs this woman brought to her neighbors. And can someone please explain to me what a “beautiful and somber” house is? The only thing I can think of is a mausoleum.
The writer (aka ms. poopy pants) should be happy that this increases her property value.
How easy it is for folks who did not have to endure the nine days of torture that those in closest proximity to “the house” did and then to point fingers and accuse those of us who did of being “overly perturbed.” I would love to see how benevolent they are after 9 days of sleep deprivation (work went on 24/7 with huge trucks with back up horns sounding all through the night), not being able to park in front of your own home (as-well-as having your vehicle damaged in a hit and run), having family and friends turned away from coming for a visit, neighborhood dogs constantly barking at gawkers, and the litany goes on and on…but not wanting to risk being called “overly perturbed” I will cease the listing of offenses.
But I would like to ask Savannah as a whole to quit being such sheep. Ask yourselves the question(s) “why rain so much on this one family?” I mean seriously–one child’s bedroom is a fairy princess room complete with a treasure trove room that has costumes in it and the other child has a room with plasma TV’s installed OVER their bed? This type of largess is not warranted for ANY reason and with it–a dozen more families, who were truly in need, could have received help.
When this family sells this house in 5 years or less for $500,000–they will laugh all the way to the bank! Wake up Savannah–quit being sheep.