The Memphis Street Sanctuary

                                    The Memphis Street Sanctuary




         Mr. John Reimer was a balding, portly fellow with a mean disposition toward life.  As cantankerous as he was known to be, he was equally as well known for being lazy and cheap.  As a landlord he was certain the tenants of his properties had their monthly payment to him on time, but if someone needed the slightest of repairs done, it would take Mr. Reimer at least a week, along with a good deal of  badgering, to fix the problem.
         One day, after an unsatisfied tenant left one of his rentals, Mr. Reimer placed a worn, brown Lazyboy recliner on the curb next to the trash.  The garbage men would not take it because removal of such an item carried a fee which the bullheaded Mr. Reimer refused to pay.  He bitterly complained that he paid enough taxes for the chair to be removed and he found the additional fee to be insulting.  So, the chair sat there, stuck between two parties who refused to budge on the matter.  The chair remained on the curb through the rains of autumn and the snows of winter. 
         The neighbors, a relatively tidy group who expected their block to be well groomed and unsullied, objected to the chair being left out on the curb for such a drawn out time, and began to discreetly discuss what should be done about it.  Some suggested an appointed representative confront Mr. Reimer, but no volunteer stepped forward.  Others suggested they call and have it removed without notifying Mr. Reimer.  Still, others argued it was Mr. Reimer’s chair and therefore none of their business.
         One fine spring day the neighbors learned that Mr. Chance Gardener, the next door neighbor to Mr. Reimer’s rental, had expressed the neighborhood’s annoyance about the chair to Mr. Reimer. The neighbor’s thought it was only fitting that the situation would have annoyed Mr. Gardener the most as the chair sat where their properties abutted.  Still, that Mr. Gardener confronted Mr. Reimer surprised all of the neighbors as they knew Mr. Gardener to be the antithesis of Mr. Reimer.  Mr. Gardener was a modest man with a modest build and had a good rapport with the entire neighborhood.    Mr. Reimer, thinking this was his opportunity to get rid of the chair without having to pay, gave Mr. Gardener permission to do whatever he wished with the chair. 
         But, Mr. Gardener did not move the chair.                    
The neighbors all watched from their windows as Mr. Gardener proceeded to place a pot of flowering lilies on either side of the chair.  He ran back into his house and returned with a wooden sign and a stand.  The sign was positioned behind and above the chair so everyone could read the blue letters spelling out “Sanctuary”.  Then, Mr. Gardener retrieved a Styrofoam cooler from inside his house and set it next to the chair.  He then became the first to sit in the Memphis Street Sanctuary and drink a beer.
         The neighbors looked on as Mr. Gardener relaxed in the chair beneath the sign marking Memphis Street’s latest addition.  Some neighbors were ever so curious and walked by Mr. Gardener, but no one uttered a word to him.  After an hour or so, Mr. Gardener got out of the chair and returned to his house, leaving the flowers, cooler and sign behind. 
The chair sat empty for the rest of the day.
         The next morning as the neighbors drank their coffee they curiously watched to see if Mr. Gardener would return to the “Memphis Street Sanctuary”.  Eventually Mr. Gardener exited his home in his bathrobe and slippers while holding a cup of coffee.  He scooped his paper out of the grass and opened it as he sat in the chair under morning sunlight.  When he finished his coffee he folded the paper and left it in the chair before returning to his house.
         A palpable, quiet tension grew through the neighborhood as the neighbors watched from their windows.  Each of them was self-conscious of their desire to try the chair.  Several long, tight minutes passed from when Mr. Gardener shut the door to his house, leaving the street empty and quiet, before Mrs. Bloomer approached the Memphis Street Sanctuary with a quick and rather awkward gait.  Her arms and hands were full of items.  Her eyebrows rose above her sunglasses as she bobbed anxiously on her knees and looked side-to-side.  Then she set a TV tray next to the chair, opposite the cooler.  On top of the tray she set a plate of cookies.  She carefully reclined in the chair until it bumped the sign and then took a sip of her coffee before opening her magazine.
        Once Mrs. Worth saw Mrs. Bloomer in the Sanctuary, Mrs. Worth had to try it.  She began considering items she would take with her for her time in the Sanctuary.  Mrs. Worth collected a hand fan, a battery powered radio, and a parasol and waited patiently until Mrs. Bloomer left.  Then, before anyone else could claim the chair, she rushed across the street for her turn in the “Sanctuary”.
         Soon, neighbor after neighbor took his turn in the Sanctuary and each time someone visited it they brought with them something in donation to make the sanctuary more comfortable.  By the mid summer a pergola had been built over the chair with privacy screens placed on either side.  A third privacy screen had been put in back, thereby enclosing the chair on three sides.  Hops, clematis, and grapes were planted to scale the screens of the pergola and cover over the top of the chair to provide further privacy and shade from the summer sun.
         Then one day Mr. Reimer showed up at the rental.  He was furious with the  neighbors decorating the chair on the curb in his yard.  He confronted Mr. Gardener and demanded he have the chair hauled away.  Mr. Gardener reminded Mr. Reimer that the chair was his and if he wanted it removed, he should pay for it.  Mr. Reimer erupted in violent profanity, but Mr. Gardener was unfazed.  And in a cursing fit, Mr. Reimer got in his truck and left.
         So, the neighbors continued to share the chair and they respected one another’s time in the Memphis Street Sanctuary.  People would walk past an occupant, but no words were ever uttered.  It was a true sharing in the sense of their respect for one another in their public privacy.  Everyone seemed to understand they would be allotted whatever time they could, and once in the Sanctuary the unspoken, unwritten rule was to take one’s time and enjoy.
         As the summer passed, word of mouth of the “Sanctuary” spread to surrounding blocks and neighborhoods.  Before long, the pedestrian traffic on Memphis Street grew significantly.  Everyone seemed to be in need of sanctuary.  At times, hundreds of people clogged the street waiting for their turns.  The residents of Memphis Street were no particularly pleased with the hassle of all of the visitors to their “Sanctuary”, but they also understood it was a small price to pay for “Sanctuary”.
         One day a huge crowd waited patiently in early autumn drizzle as people took their time in the recliner.  Mr. Reimer came to the rental to find the street to his driveway choked full of strangers.  After several minutes of slowly being able to approach his own property, he was to say the least, upset, and insisted the crowd disperse or he would call the police.  At length, and amid protests, the crowd reluctantly dispersed.
         The next morning a huge crowd gathered in front of the Memphis Street Sanctuary.  They protested as a town rubbish removal truck pulled up in front of the chair.  The crowd pleaded as Mr. Reimer glared at the chair’s current occupant, Mr. Gardener, who was in the sanctuary while again wearing his robe and enjoying a coffee and paper, smiled warmly at Mr. Reimer.
         “Gardener,” Reimer snorted, “I’m taking my chair back.”
         The smile never faded from Gardener’s face.  “Certainly,” he piped cheerily and hopped out of the chair.  He started back to his house with a springing step as the trash men began to toss items into the large bin of the truck.  It took them several minutes with hammers and crowbars to bring the Memphis Street Sanctuary down. 
         Those who protested also followed Mr. Gardener’s lead and did not attempt to disrupt or interfere with the removal of the Sanctuary.  And shortly after the truck drove off Mr. Reimer sneered a bitter smile at the crowd, got in his truck, and drove off.
         Today when the neighbors wake up and have coffee, they stare longingly at that now empty space along a deserted street, where snubs of hops, clematis and grapes try to grow before Mr. Reimer eventually gets around to mowing the lawn.