When we first saw this neighborhood we were in our 30’s with four young kids. The youngest being 4 months old. Warner Estates – yes, that is the name of this 1940’s development we live in – was built on the old Warner farm property. At one time the street ended at our house. The rest of the houses were probably built in the late 50’s or 60’s. To describe this area is pretty easy – there is an old farm road that goes about a mile or so and off that road is Warner Road which is in the shape of a horseshoe. And we live on the road that intersects the horseshoe and makes into the letter A. No one drives through here unless they have a reason. You cannot go anywhere from here except back to the larger old farm road. Of course most of the farms on the road are gone except for one at the other end. Lucky for us they are still open and have a farm stand so we can get fresh veggies in the spring and fall.
Once we moved in here we found out that there were a pack of kids living here which was perfect for our kids. They all played in the streets or in the front yards and all the Mom’s kept an eye on them. So, it was a comfortable place to be.
There are many stories of our neighborhood that we all laugh about now and for some of them laughed every day about. I have decided to tell a few of those stories since in going over them in my mind in the middle of the night last night I realized they need to be written down.
So, this first story starts with a rash of robberies in our town. There was even one in our little area. One evening we found out there was to be a community meeting at the Fire House which is behind some of our houses. The “Girls’ had been planning to do something at Sue’s house that evening so a couple of us were elected to go and hear about how to prevent robberies and come back and report. So off we went, a couple of husbands might have gone as well.
The room was fairly packed with concerned people. I don’t think I was too concerned because we had nothing to steal. I am not sure at that point if we even had a TV. I certainly had no expensive jewelry and the silver was very limited. So we listened. At one point our right wing, reborn Christian neighbor wanted to know if he shot someone trespassing on his land which way did they have to fall in order for him to be okay under the law. Aside from biting our tongues trying not to fall over in gales of laughter we were worried for our kids. He was a teacher and hated our kids.
But then the really fun thing happened. This one woman from a very upscale neighborhood stood up and said “We from RENO blah blah blah” and then again “Our RENO members blah, blah, blah” and we looked at each other. “What the hell is RENO?” Finally someone asked and we were all informed quite haughtily that RENO stood for the Rosendale Estates Neighborhood Organization. Oh, how were any of us normal people suppose to know things like that? So we sat and giggled our way through the rest of the meeting. You can tell we were really into preventing robberies at that point.
After the meeting we headed back to Sues for some wine and to report on our adventure into robberies. First we told them about her next door neighbor asking about shooting people and amid the laughter there was also the question of “Do you think he would really shoot someone?” That was a scary thought since he was always threatening people anyway if you touched his property.
Then we told them the really good story about RENO. I thought they would drop as we over exagerated the woman’s tone and attitude. The laughter died down eventually and then we said “what should be call ourselves?” After all we represented about 50% of the neighbors. So we started in trying to figure out some names for ourselves. The more wine we drank the sillier it got. Warner/Barton Place Neighborhood Association – WBPNA – that was nothing, Warner Estates Neighborhood Association – WENA – Really “weena” again much laughter but no resolution – finally as we sucked up the wine some one came up with the name that became us…… You ready for this??????
The “Warner Interesting Neighborhood Organization” or as we loved to call ourselves