Courthouse Square Troubles

continued

Her older neighbor, also a widow, nods understandingly. Lifelong liberals, both women acknowledge their discomfort in speaking about their predicament and refuse to be named. "I believe everyone should have a warm place to be in the winter," says the younger widow. "I feel very bad when I see people on the street. There should be a safe environment" for them, she says. But she also wants a safe environment for herself.

Both women ask that their names not be used--partly because they fear retaliation, but also because they're sensitive to the class divisions at Courthouse Square. On one side are retirees like themselves, often from professional backgrounds. On the other are a group of much poorer residents, some with various disabilities, whose rent is paid by social service agencies.

So the women choose their words carefully. "We welcome diversity," one tells me. "Don't make us seem elitist!" adds the other. But their egalitarian values are tested when they find themselves sharing an elevator with drunken neighbors--or the friends from the street who party and crash with them. Entering the building, they've learned to lock the door quickly behind them to keep people from following them in. When the elevator comes, they check to see who's already inside before they enter.

They praise the Ann Arbor police officer who lives in the building. "Without Craig Martin, I don't know what this place would be like," says one. "He monitors things. He orders trespass violations." But though Martin patrols the halls, "he can't be everywhere," says her friend.