Global Wandering

Stanley Rowe House, Indian Hill, Ohio
LaPriel and I just spent a lovely weekend in Cincinnati to attend my work’s holiday party. Time away from kids allows our conversation to stray into areas it typically wouldn’t go, because we would be interrupted long before we branched out to the more intriguing topics. So it was late on Saturday afternoon while taking a drive among the forests and estates of Indian Hill that we began to discuss blogging, and more specifically would my keeping this blog increase my chances of being tracked down and shot by a gang member.

I had never considered this. Our little Idaho town is not known for its gang warfare⎯although I sit on our city’s Planning and Zoning commission, and given our town is in the midst of a heated land dispute with a neighboring village, there are times I’m sure that residents in the area wish I was shot. LaPriel’s point, though, was whether someone that came across this blog could hunt me down. I’m certain they could⎯even though I have not used my full name, posted a clear photograph of myself or mentioned the specific town where I live. One of the banes and benefits of the Internet is increased transparency. It is amazing what you can learn about people even if they don’t keep a blog.

Take the house pictured above, for example. I have always loved this home. It sits on a rise in Indian Hill at the edge of the Rowe Arboretum. Before we moved to Idaho, LaPriel and I spent hours walking with our kids among the catalpas, pines and oaks planted on the grounds. I would often wonder about the house and who resided there. I pictured an aging widow living alone with her Persian cat and attended to by faithful servants, who would serve tea and cookies to her and her three closest friends at their Thursday afternoon Bridge parties. With the Internet, I no longer have to wonder.

I now know the house was built in 1928 by Stanley Rowe. It has 5 bedrooms, 7 full bathrooms and 4 half-baths. It has one of the highest bathroom-to-bedroom ratios in the county. In 1924, Senator Robert Taft told Stanley about the forty-acre property for sale. Unfortunately, a gentleman named Cunningham purchased it first. Undaunted, Rowe visited Cunningham, who was feeling buyer’s remorse, chiefly because he bought the land without telling his wife. Rowe took it off Cunningham’s hands for $14,500; $500 less than what Cunningham paid.

Over the years, the Rowe’s bought more land and planted 1,800 tree species on their property. The 170-acre grounds became a grand experiment to see which species of trees could thrive in Ohio’s climate. Stanley was a business executive and among his many charitable activities, he was an affordable housing advocate, heading up the Cincinnati Metropolitan Housing Authority for ten years and leading the development of several housing projects, including English Woods in Western Cincinnati, where my mom lived as a girl after her dad passed away. Ironically, despite his affordable housing efforts, Rowe and Bob Taft formed the Redbud Realty Company to buy up most of the land near their homes in Indian Hill because, as Taft put it, they “realized that something had to be done to stop the dilapidated, substandard shacks that were being thrown together and lived in at the top of Indian Hill Road."

But that was the past. Thanks to the Internet, I know the house is currently worth $2.9 million. Taxes are $36,000 per year. It is owned by the Coletti family. Here is Mr. Coletti’s picture and bio. He seems quite successful. The family gave over $65,000 to the Republican party in 2003 and 2004, according to this site (see additional link). Here is a map to find the house and a recent satellite photo (note the house is just south of where the arrow points). Unfortunately, Mr. Coletti’s father passed away last month. You can read about it here.

All that information, even though the Rowe’s and Coletti’s don’t keep a blog.

So, to answer LaPriel’s question. A gang member can track me down and shoot me whether I keep a blog or not. But at least with a blog, my family, friends and strangers will know a little bit more about me before I die.