The Personification of a Street. The First and Last Story

This story has it's beginning back in 1984.  That was when a handful of people from Windsor's advertising industry decided to take a chance at life on Monmouth Road.  In the beginning it was just that simple.  We were thinking of our own fortunes at the time.  Monmouth Road was no mans land.  The only thing going for it was it's unique architecture and history.  Very few recognized any of that because the street was buried deep beneath years of neglect and decay.  Social and physical.  For the most part it was left for dead except for a handful of elders who had made it their home and who were holding the beachhead since more than fifty years prior.  They lived behind chain link fences and unruly thorny hedges.  Security measures that kept them insular amidst the Monmouth Road of their day.  It was one of the rudest neighbourhoods in the city.  It was distinctly separate from Old Walkerville.  Kids were not allowed to go there or to associate with anyone who lived there.   The western alley separating Monmouth from the rest of Old Walkerville was openly but not lovingly referred to as "The moat".   Friends, relatives and parents did not understand why anyone would be so crazy as to invest anything into this street.  Money or sweat.  It was a gamble for sure but those who bet on the street persisted.  Yes...We were thinking of ourselves and Monmouth Road was going to be our great investment.  That was the entire depth of our plan. 

The snap shot of Monmouth during the summer of 1985 was that of an impoverished depression era borough.  An anomaly that never woke up since Hiram Walker untethered it from the corporate town in 1936.  It never went anywhere.  Time just stopped.  1984 was still 1936.  The home values were even stuck.  In the mid 1980's homes on Monmouth were selling for $8000.00.  The only thing growing was social detritus.  Front yards were mostly mud and weeds littered with tired lawn chairs, broken toys, tires and dead soldiers.  Musty old furniture and appliances adorned most stoops.  Every back yard had its share of derelict cars, washing machines, furniture and junk of any possible kind.  Many of the homes were already condemned and many more should have been.  The vast majority were rental units and many of those housed single parent families.  At the time some of these houses were home to twenty plus occupants.  There were long standing resident bootleggers, there were drugs, there were thieves and there was prostitution.  There were people on Monmouth that many claimed came from another planet.  In 1984 a few of us moved in and made them our neighbours.

We lived together. 

The newcomers on Monmouth Road were more of a curiosity to the local residents than vice versa.  Even the block elders wondered why anyone would spend their time and money on these seemingly unsalvagable places.  It wasn't long before the hood started to mesh.  After day jobs let out, suits were hung up in plastic bags and the wrenching would begin.  The interiors were gutted, the plumbing and electrical were hacked out and the restoration of this formerly glorious hood was on its way.  At the end of every evening we were blackened with the soot of time.  After coughing up a few black oysters  we could savour our new hood from  front stoops with cold beer in hand.  It became a protected luxury to be able to walk up the dark street at 12:30 A.M. and purchase a case of beer for a small premium.  Even if we did have to step over a couple of exuberant regulars along the way.  Neighbours kept their eyes open for us and we did the same for them.  Everyone was on a first name basis. 

The first projects were quite visible if only because they were in such obvious contrast to the rest of the street.  Gawkers started to drive by and take notice of newly installed windows, shutters, acid washed facades and fresh, colourful landscaping.  Solid brick and mortar were more tangible than a shapeless vision.  People were beginning to see.  New tool boxes were showing up on Monmouth one at a time.  The restoration of a few homes was quickly morphing into the reclamation of a much larger historic gem.  Best of all, home prices were literally doubling every year.  Even some of our long standing neighbours saw the opportunity to invest in their own homes.  Help was always there.  Right from the beginning people were helping people.  Lending a hand was a given because each and every one of these homes was recognized as a part of the greater hood.  Old Walkerville woke up to Monmouth and welcomed us in.  In many ways the re-birth of Monmouth brought Old Walkerville into the slip stream as well. 

One day it finally happened. 

Somebody, at some social gathering, over a large bowl of Merlot said it:  "Monmouth Road has been gentrified".  There was a moment of silence.  Peoples eyes met in that moment.  It was true.  Not a single Monmouth Roadie had even seen it.  Probably because we grew with the street amongst neighbours old and new.  We were all too busy renovating, landscaping and promoting.  We were living in our own sense of accomplishment.  In real estate parlance Monmouth Road became a location.  People and families are buying in because it is a great and beautiful neighbourhood.  We are executives, lawyers, architects, artists and doctors.  We are artisans, nurses, educators and students.  We are sales people.  We are all characters in a huge plotless play.   

Monmouth Road literally evolved and developed legs.  After twenty six years of hard wrenching and shameless promoting 1936 was put in its rightful place between 1935 and 1937.  Now, in  2010 Monmouth Road has caught up with the modern world.  We are once again a productive contributor to a larger community that is Old Walkerville and on a grander scale Windsor.  We are seen globally now as yet another community called Monmouth.  There seems to be lineage.  Anybody who lives on Monmouth or who had lived on Monmouth at some point during it's transformation is a life long ambassador to its very existence.  Everyone in this unique alumni still promotes Monmouth Road as a living, breathing community with historical significance. Roadies witness the meaning in that every time a tour bus rolls up the street. 

Along the way, "The Mayor of Monmouth", the blog was born.  At it's inception in 2004 it's sole purpose was to promote Monmouth Road within the context of Old Walkerville within the context of Windsor.  With the exception of a couple of minor distractions it has largely fulfilled this mission.  The actual moniker was the brainchild of a couple of Roadies bent on razzing this blogger.  It made for a catchy blog handle and it has helped impinge a picture of the street on every Windsorite's frontal lobe.   Monmouth Road is more than a living entity; it is a personality.   Can any other street or neighbourhood in Windsor claim that?  Not yet anyway.  This is a fiercly proud neighbourhood and if you ask anyone living here today they will tell you that there are still real estate opportunities to be had.  They will also tell you that there is still plenty of work to be done.  Discussions like that now happen over martinis and caipirinas.

Today you are reading the last post from the Mayor of Monmouth.  At least in it's present form.  We will be looking at some new ideas and formats; hopefully with broader input from Old Walkerville at large.