I set out on Saturday afternoon for a friend's birthday party in Tower Grove South, when I decided to take a detour through North St. Louis to take some photos of some old buildings for this site. I had become interested in a section of the city known as St. Louis Place, a wedge shaped neighborhood just north of downtown between Jefferson and N. Florissant Aves. I knew the area vaguely, but basically decided to do some exploring. It did not take me long for my day to become much more interesting.I turned down Montgomery Street (chosen mainly because it wasn't a one way street) off of N. Florissant when I saw the above, rather spectacular building collapse. I pulled over, snapped a picture, and then headed about a hundred more feet up the street.
That's funny, I thought, that house up ahead looks really familiar. I realized that I had seen it here, the Built St. Louis blog about "brick rustlers." I also noticed a powder blue van parked right out in front of the house, and that a much larger chunk of the house was missing--in fact the whole side of the house was now completely gone. I drove a little farther, and snapped this picture of some in-fill housing along St. Louis Place Park.I casually glanced in my rear view mirror, only to realize that the powder blue van was now accelerating rapidly towards me.
It was one of those instinctual moments, when I just knew immediately that it wasn't a coincidence that this van's owner had decided to leave right as I passed by. I realized then that the van's driver had been watching me snap a picture of the collapsed house, which I realized later when I examined the first photo, most likely had collapsed because of brick theft.
My heart was racing, and I realized I had to get the heck out of there--immediately. I fumbled for my cellphone in my coat pocket. I accelerated up to 40 mph, rolled through some stop signs--and more importantly, took a series of arbitrary turns to see if the powder blue van would follow. Even after I made a series of non-nonsensical turns, it was still right on my tail--there was no way that the driver could have been coincidently taking the same path I was taking. I reached St. Louis Ave, with the van a good half block away, but luckily, its engine was approximately 25 years older than my car's, and I quickly began to put distance between myself and my pursuer. I got out onto N. Florissant and headed south. If worse came to worse, I would simply pull up in front of Police Headquarters on Clark St., I reasoned to myself.
Luckily, the van at this point had stopped its pursuit, but I wasn't completely calmed down until I was onto Highway 40. There's something outrageous about people committing open theft in broad daylight, and being stupid enough to draw attention to themselves. I quite frankly had ignored the van at first, and only was drawn to its presence after it began chasing me. How did the van's owner know I wasn't a cop, quite frankly? And where are the police, anyway? The "harvesting" of brick from this house has been going on for months, if not half a year on this street, and not one police detective doesn't want to score an easy arrest of these bozos?
Wow, that's an exciting story.
ReplyDeleteYou do for architecture what Indiana Jones did for archaeology.
I felt kind of bad afterwards about speeding around like that. Luckily the area is so abandoned I really didn't even pass anybody else up as I fled the area.
ReplyDeleteThey all must know to stay inside when that blue van comes around.
ReplyDeleteI told some people the story this weekend, calling it a "molester van." They thought that was pretty funny.
ReplyDelete