Drama in the millhouses

Hang on. If I’m gonna talk to you, I need slippers. It’s distracting how cold m’feets are.


The closet door is still open because Milhous is in there. The moment I opened it, he went DASHING in there like the closet has many interesting sites that he’s only read about online.

Anyway. Edsel and I did not get a lot of sleep last night, because there is some sort of drama next door, and here’s what I know.

I’ve spoken about the guy next door before. We’ll call him T. I’ve heard different accounts, but from what I can gather, he hovers around my age (looks older) (in MY opinion) (maybe everyone in the hood thinks we’re a matched set and they’re just waiting for us to fall for each other) (which might be difficult now as I think he is dead) ANYWAY he hovers around my age and I think he has lived here his whole life. I’ve heard rumors he had a full life outside of this neighborhood, failed, and returned. But I think he told me himself he grew up here.

I do know that in my back yard? Where that shed is? He cut that door that’s there when he was 8.

Apparently there was a dog who lived here and they never let it in (I know. Frown face) and he cut that door so the dog would have shelter. How the dog got the door open, I don’t know.

About a year ago, he came over with some paintings of his. “I thought you might like these,” he said. They were pretty good! I have two of his paintings up. “Yeah. I used to do stuff,” is what he said as he handed me the paintings, and that broke my heart.

He drinks, see. He’s bad to drink, as they say here. Therefore, he had almost no money. He did odd jobs here and there, but couldn’t really afford water and power. For awhile, the neighborhood chipped in for his water bill.

When I first moved in, he had this woman living there, helping him pay for that sort of stuff. She planted seeds from the dollar store and little white and yellow flowers grew on the side of the house. At night, they’d sit on the deck in back and Milhous would jump the fence and join them and their cat, Sissy. It was sort of lovely. She hung their laundry on the old line that their yard still has.

Then T, the guy next door, and his roommate with the flower seeds got in a terrible fight and she moved out. Not long after, he moved a young couple in. They seemed wiry, nervous. Even just watching them walk across the yard you got a wired feeling from them. Jittery.

The woman and I sort of became friendly, though. She liked gardening, and asked if she could pull weeds from my flower bed when she saw them, and sometimes she’d ask for a clipping of whatever was growing in the front or back of my yard. I always said sure. I gave them ice in summer when they didn’t have water. Sometimes I gave them food.

But it was obvious there were drugs involved, and then drug sales, and people walking in the back door, which meant past my damn windows, day and night.

Last week, about 647 police cars pulled up. They took my neighbor T. outside while they raided the house. They found … a lot. And they took the couple to jail, where they may be for a long time, according to the neighbors who know from this stuff.

Meanwhile, we all worried about T. There was rumor they might condemn the house, and then where would he go? His house was very quiet this past week.

Last night,


I heard what sounded like a gunshot. I don’t know why I didn’t hop right on NextDoor, which might as well be renamed, “Did anyone hear gunshots?” That’s all my NextDoor ever is. Except there’s one wingnut who gets on there and capitalizes every word and either praises or condemns the police, depending on his mood. His posts are always slightly racist, as well.

But the wingnut is neither here nor there. The point is, I heard a shot. But then right after I heard a motorcycle, and the people across the street have two, so I thought, Oh, their motorcycle just backfired.

But when I went to bed, I saw I had a text. “Did you hear that?” my across-the-street neighbor had texted me earlier. “Sounded like a gunshot real close.”

This morning, at around 5:30 a.m., I heard talking. You’ve never been in a neighborhood as quiet as this one at night. There are no neighbors behind us, just tracks and a steep dropoff, and we’re on a dead end behind us and also at the end of one road. So voices woke me up. Naturally, I turned on my Ring to see the front yard.

There were four police cars outside. They were next door.

I pulled on my robe and was delighted to see my sizeable ass in said robe on the Ring camera when I checked it later. A policeman was at the threshold of T’s door, taking pictures. “Is everything OK?” I asked, and oh, sure. We’re just a band of policemen taking pictures of a room before sunrise. Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morrrrrrrnin.

“Everything’s fine, ma’am,” said the cop, and I have to tell you I don’t believe him.

So, I never went back to sleep, but no coroner came or ambulance. No fire trucks or anyone but police. And by 7 a.m., they had all left.

So what is UP? I’m dying to ask the neighbor across the street, but even though I saw her light on I didn’t dare text that early.

Did T shoot himself? Was it some sort of drug thing even though he wasn’t involved in the drug part? Is he dead? What is going on?

If I find out more from the neighbor at a decent hour, I will alert you.


UPDATE: A neighbor says she thinks she saw T. in the police car early this morning. So if that’s true, he’s not dead.

UPDATE 2: Same neighbor just went over there and the door is locked and there’s no answer. Which is odd. FRaDW.

UPDATE 3: OK, the guy who got arrested for drugs is out of jail and he came home (next door) to find all this stuff gone. That is why the police were called. The gunshot? No idea. That was hours apart. The gunshot was at 9:40-ish and the call to police about stolen stuff was at 4 in the morning.

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At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

59 thoughts on “Drama in the millhouses”

  1. As usual I am late to the party. However I do thank you for the updates. Things are just weird right now. People are going crazy because They’ve been locked in doors. Here’s my story from Friday. I walked out my apartment door and ran into three police officers standing outside my door. Granted our hallway is not very wide. Apparently the woman who lives directly across from me came home to find a man in her apartment who then assaulted her and she fought back and he punched her in the face and ran. Now here’s the deal. We have a locked front door that it’s only opened by a fob. That fob is also what opens the apartment door. So every apartment has one fob or two to get in the front door and to get it in their apartment door. So you tell me how someone got through two doors that cannot be broken into by picking a lock. By the way, I’m moving to downtown Chicago in May. Things have been a bit crazy down there as well. I am moving into a very secure place. As a sidenote, I believe it was actually her boyfriend and she’s just not able to tell the truth.


  2. This is RIVETING! FRaDW for real!! I hope the whole thing works out peacefully, because that kind of nonsense is very unsettling for neighbors.
    Nothing quite like this has happened in my neighborhood. It’s urban, so we have our fair share of property crimes, (WHYYY do people keep leaving guns in unlocked cars???) but not so much with the drugs. Our neighborhood began to be developed in the late 40s with most homes built in the 50s. As far as records show there has been only 1 murder (on the next block!), and it was about 4 years ago. A schizophrenic man murdered his mother, his only caregiver, in their home. He then walked to the fire station in his underwear. Those bright firefighters figured out right away that somethin’ wasn’t right. The house has been vacant ever since; clearly he is elsewhere. I did read in the newspaper that he was declared incompetent to stand trial. I mean, OBV.


  3. The story of T’s life is so sad. I hope he is ok and has enough time left to get his life turned around. We never know what demons are living in someone’s head.


  4. I need to check FripFrap of June for updates. Quick thought, could the boom have been whatever their drug of choice was blowing up during the manufacturing process? Although one would think that would require an ambulance and/or fire. Edz would have been so happy to see firemen next door.


  5. Cops are so closed-mouthed about stuff, which is good, I guess.
    In my old neighborhood the next door neighbor was the nosiest person I ever met. She came over to tell me that the house down the street was going to be busted for drugs the next day. I asked how she knew, and she said there was a guy in a car watching the house for a long time, so she went and peppered him with questions until he showed her his badge and begged her to go away. She wouldn’t leave until he told her what was happening.
    She was right about the drug bust. Sometimes I think about that and muse about how annoying you have to be to make an undercover cop on a stakeout give you all the intel.

    She never once saw her kids do anything wrong though, and they were monsters.

    Life is strange.


    1. There were always people in plumbing vans parked on our street, watching the drug house. Sometimes they’d park around the corner but they’d have their binoculars and cameras handy. Everyone knew who they were and what they were doing, including the drug dealer.


  6. Our former next door neighbors were a bunch of alcoholic, drug-dealers. The “matriarch” once drove straight through her garage wall, stopping about a foot short of ending up in my son’s bedroom. The 2 grandsons were both drug dealers, operating out of the garage so nighttimes were a steady stream of activity. After the old lady was shipped off to a nursing home and one of the grandsons left the state to avoid arrest, the house sat vacant for about a year or 2 before the one grandson returned and started squatting in the garage with his girlfriend before breaking into the house and living there rent free. Water and electricity free as well. The grandson used to beat his girlfriend and there were frequent screams of “CALL THE POLICE, HE’S BEATING ME!!!” I always kept expecting to hear gunshots but thankfully, that never happened.

    About 2 years ago, the house was foreclosed on and sold at auction, the squatters evicted and it’s been vacant ever since, undergoing the World’s Slowest Remodel/Flip. But at least it’s quiet next door.


  7. Oh the drama! Please keep us updated on the blog for those of us not on the evil facebook. Between this and your pending good news I’m on the edge of my seat (eating popcorn)!


  8. This is so sad and strange.
    His life definitely went downhill after his roommate left.
    You’ve been a good neighbour to help.
    So many questions.
    If someone had been shot the CSI team would’ve been there, so I think we can rule that out.
    So says the CSI/ID/Law and Order armchair detective.
    I’ll definitely be checking in for updates.


  9. After thinking about this more, I would have asked the cop, “What’s going on?” That way his response that everything was okay wouldn’t answer THAT question. If the neighbor saw T in the backseat of the police car that could explain no other emergency vehicles being called.
    P.S. I’m not second guessing your question at all.
    P.S., Jr. Can you look at the jail website to see if they post who has been processed in and the charges? We have that for most of the surrounding counties in the metro Atlanta area.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Poor guy, what a life. I’m with Paula, will stay glued to Facebook of June today as further updates are revealed.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Sorry to hear about all the drama so close by. That would just rattle my nerves. Not a great way to start the day.


      1. And to you as well DG. Went to lunch at 12.00pm, and left at 5.30pm. Yes, we had a good time, and I got two (!!!) piles of tulips, my favs, to bring home.


  12. This occurrence is horrible. I shall await further developments.

    On another note, regarding the paintings that T gave you, I remember you blogging about them. Have you a picture of said paintings on your walls that you could share?


  13. Oh my goodness, this is sooo sad on so many levels. I really hope T is okay and can get his life together. Drugs and alcohol are dead end roads. Hopefully, you can find out what happened, because we are a nosy lot and will bring you some type of relief.


  14. Oh Coot! How awful.
    I live one block off of a tourist town Square. Think Disneyland main Street. We had a festival last weekend and the sirens from police and ambulances was deafening. People are just out of control. I was told by my neighbor that there were several brawls that broke out and one big cowboy threatened another big cowboy, which resulted in a Blazing Saddles type of street fight.
    Anyway I will be Gladys Kravitzing awaiting more news on T and the house of drugs


  15. Positive vibes for T. Will be looking for updates that he’s hopefully fine. The most exciting thing that happened here last night was a deer fight on the wildlife cam and even that I have to get from someone else’s back yard!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s a little funny to watch. Sort of like a human slap fight but with hooves. My life is dull.

        So glad T. might be ok!

        Liked by 1 person

  16. Wow! All the excitement you have to contend with. I would not be able to rest until I knew what was going on. Be safe.


      1. I have poor eye and hand coordination. There are guns here and a camera and a security system and I am glad.


  17. Oh the drama!!! Our neighborhood has experienced a few police officers and some screaming from porches this week. People are getting stir crazy. I hope your neighbor is okay. I will be on the edge of my seat waiting for updates.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. My GOD, I broke every speed limit and made several unsafe evasive maneuvers to get to work so I could find out What The Hell Had Happened in June’s Hood. And still I sit on tenterhooks. Not literally. I will be glued to the Jowls of June (not you personally)(but possibly me) on FB all dingdang day now.

    In other Ring news, we got a neighborhood alert that a car! was stolen! right from in front of a house! in my Apple Pie Neighborhood! I have spent the last two days speaking to our current alarm company, ADT and considering upgrading our Ring system. Over-react much? No update on the stolen car except that the thieves apparently stole the fenders three months ago and then came back for the rest. Whaaaaaa? This smacks of “inside job” to me, and I got my gold detective shield from watching Law & Order, so. Plus there is the “clue” that the perps crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge, which means little to anyone outside of NY but indicates they were going to Queens. Which also means little. My question: what the hell is a Throg and why does its neck have its own bridge? (I know it was named after some guy named …. Throckmorton, I think? and subsequently got bastardized.) Also; YOU COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL, GAIL.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Paula, you never disappoint. I know of the Throgs Neck Bridge. I think I’ve crossed said bridge. Might have been the time we were pulling a travel trailer through NYC and could not go through a tunnel and was directed OFF the interstate onto the streets of NY. We had “camped” the night over in NJ and was trying to get to CT, I had volunteered to drive, but had mapped out our route the night before, which helped. That was the first time I had ever seen double-parked cars! Culture shock for this southern girl. But, I’m sure I can drive anywhere, any time after that experience.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I didn’t comma correctly and it is bugging me. I have been speaking to our current alarm company, which is not ADT, contacted ADT (but they pissed me off and they can go fry ice now) AND I have been looking to upgrade our Ring system. Hmm. Not just a bad comma, a bad sentence there altogether. Mea culpa.


  19. This makes me sad. It also makes me feel that I am back at work in the ER with all my drug and alcohol addicted and mentally ill patients. So many of them died during the years. One morning during my drive to work, I heard on the radio that two people had died in a house fire on a certain street. I immediately said, “Oh, Violet.” And I was right. She was a mid-thirties alcoholic and had gone to sleep with her lit cigarette, causing a fire that killed her abusive boyfriend and herself. I never imagined she would die an old lady, with her family crying by her bedside, but this was awful and sad.


    1. My reply ended up in the wrong spot and this one is too, and OMG I’ll just go have more coffee and try to stop commenting.

      Liked by 1 person

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