“Hey Paul, my door is making noise.” 

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I was greeted this morning with that information by a tenant at Neighbors Place, the apartment building at 454 College Avenue which houses 18 women in small, efficiency apartments. It was still early, about 7:00 am.  My office is located in the building and I like to get in early. Let’s call the tenant Kristin.

I turned away from my computer and, after a moment of thought (How does a door make noise?), I asked, “Does the door make the noise when being opened and closed or when it is not moving?”

Kristin replied, “When I open it.”

The squeaky hinge

Later in the morning after I had retrieved my can of WD 40 from my truck, I climbed the stairs to the third floor and knocked on Kristin’s door. Sure enough, as she opened it, the door made a small, almost inaudible squeak.  I sprayed the three hinges and swung the door open and closed about ten times.  Not a sound. 

Kristin thanked me.

I suspect some will consider this response a waste of time.  I mean, there really wasn’t a problem.  So a door squeaks a little. No big deal.

Some organizations, whether businesses or not-for-profits, would have written up a work order, sent it over to the hired handyman, and hoped for the best. Certainly the Executive Director would not be required to respond.

But Project Neighbors is not that kind of organization.  First off, we don’t have a handyman on payroll, but more importantly, the central theme of our mission and activity is being in relationship with our…I want to say tenants, but that I not accurate. They are our neighbors, our partners in community. 

Kristin had a squeaky door, but she may have also be lonely.  She, being financially poor, probably estranged from family, perhaps…no not perhaps…I know this…she is suffering from some physical disabilities, she may feel insecure in her life.  My tending to her squeaky door may just fill a much larger need. Regardless, it took five minutes.

I get all kinds of calls for service from the 46 living units Project Neighbors owns: “my toilet won’t flush,” “I have no heat,” “there’s a crack in the drywall in my bedroom,” “I have locked myself out,” “I can’t get my car out of the snow”, and on and on.  Sometimes I resent these interruptions to my life, but most of the time I recognize them as cries for help from people who view themselves as powerless.

A few years ago, during my general contractor days, I would oversee the installation of a $50,000, third or fourth bathroom in a relatively new house in some subdivision on the outskirts of town.  Now I take my plunger and make the ONLY bathroom in the house functional.  Or I silence a squeaky door. 

I feel much more useful these days.

Paul Schreiner

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