Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
Two of the great TV shows in American history were brought to mind recently by a much-less-than-great controversy in suburban St. Louis.
The classics were Dennis the Menace and The Andy Griffith Show.
The controversy is Hazelwood CSI: Girl Scouts Break the Zoning Code.
In case you missed it, Hazelwood recently received a few minutes of national note for being sued by the family of Girl Scouts Caitlin and Abigail Mills, who were given a cease-and-desist order last spring because they sold cookies in their driveway.
It was hard to type those words with a straight keyboard.
Mind you, I like stories of crime-fighting as much as the next guy, but somehow it’s hard to work up a proper level of indignation when the perpetrator’s contraband includes Thin Mints, Lemon Chalet Cremes, and Thank U
Berry Munch. Although I will admit that munch cannot go unregulated.
The city of Hazelwood did make the story a little more interesting with an unusually colorful news release headlined, “Hazelwood’s Code Hasn’t Changed in Decades Yet Generations of Girl Scouts Still Sold Lots of Cookies.” Its basic position: This is a retail activity that should take place in commercial areas, not residential ones.
The city stated that Girl Scouts can sell cookies door-to-door or set up booths at retail establishments, but suggested that regular sales on one’s property in a residential neighborhood compromise “the tranquility and safety of local residents.” It proclaimed its support for the scouts, but added that generations of girls had complied with its zoning ordinances, and so should the Mills family.
The news release also stated that a theft of $1,000 in cash had been reported from the very Girl Scouts cookie stand on this very property two years ago and that Hazelwood police had recovered $900 of the money. This, it suggested, was proof positive of an issue of “child safety” and that “the stand sells a lot of cookies and that gives credence that this year’s neighborhood complaint about disruption legitimately required a proactive response by the city.”
I’m not so sure about that.
I don’t think little girls are safer in 2011 going door-to-door selling cookies than in their own front yard. And I really doubt that generations of little girls have obediently observed Hazelwood’s zoning laws by refraining from having a stand on their
own property.
Here’s another possibility: Maybe no one complained about them. Maybe this sort of nefarious activity has been taking place right under the noses of the Code Enforcement Division because no one cared.
When I first learned of this story, my reaction was this: What kind of neighbor would complain about Girl Scouts selling cookies in their own driveway?
Here’s one answer: An anonymous neighbor.
Now there’s a real profile in courage.
This is where my childhood memories of Dennis the Menace come in. And yes, sadly, I’m old enough to have grown up with the program in its first-run, 1960s heyday.
Besides being a terrific comedy, the show offered a gentle look at the burgeoning world of American suburbia. In my distant memory, at least, it was about a sweet but mischievous kid, Dennis Mitchell, driving his cranky neighbor, Mr. Wilson, off the deep end.
Now there’s no parallel between Girl Scouts selling cookies and Dennis. But the anonymous neighbor really made me think of Mr. Wilson and of the fact that Dennis the Menace, with its innocence, was really a commentary about neighboring in contemporary America.
And in that context, this story in Hazel-wood is just another example of innocence lost.
You see, Mr. Wilson never called the Code Enforcement Division on Dennis. His “tranquility” was compromised on a weekly basis, but somehow his grievances—no matter how justified—never made it to City Hall. And Dennis did a lot worse than sell cookies in his driveway.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m blocking from my subconscious the episodes in which the long arm of the law came down on the Mitchell family.
But I don’t think so.
Call me judgmental if you will, but this is for you, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous Neighbor: No decent neighbor anonymously calls the zoning officials on Girl Scouts selling cookies in their own driveway.
Period. End of report.
As for the Mills family, it can be fairly argued that a lawsuit was a bit of an over-the-top response. At least the judge felt that way, throwing out the case in August without comment.
But the family is represented by the nonprofit Freedom Center of Missouri, which is committed to litigating matters involving—among other things—property rights, economic liberty, and limited government. The center undoubtedly has an axe to grind here, but I think its cause is just.
It turns out that the Hazelwood Girl Scouts case is just the latest in what appears to be a growing trend in America that the Freedom Center calls “The Government War on Kid-Run Concession Stands.”
OK, that’s a little hyperbolic, but fun nonetheless. And its website, mofreedom.org, has assembled a stunning collection of examples just like the one in Hazelwood.
The most recent one alleges that Massachusetts State Police stopped a 12-year-old Japanese refugee from selling green tea that he’d brought with him while being evacuated during the tsunami. I don’t know the details of the case, but if it’s even remotely true, I don’t want to hear the explanation for why this was handled quite properly by the authorities.
In any event, lemonade stands and Girl Scout cookie stands seem to be getting shut down from sea to shining sea. Three stands were busted simultaneously at the Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. Authorities nailed such stands in Texas, Georgia, Pennsylvania, and Oregon. And on and on.
It’s not a red-state or a blue-state thing. It’s everywhere. And it’s all in the name of law and order, or maintaining “tranquility” and the integrity of sacred zoning ordinances.
This brings me to The Andy Griffith Show, which I also watched faithfully in its first-run version as a child.
No, Mayberry wasn’t real, although it sure seemed like it. And while Barney Fife often stole the show, one of its most common themes—and I think important messages—was about something once known as conflict resolution.
As I recall, in show after show, Andy Griffith—playing the unassuming, aw-shucks Sheriff Taylor—would manage to solve some crisis in the town by wrapping his arms around a couple of angry combatants and getting them to work things out peacefully.
Corny? Yes. Unrealistic? Sure.
But it’s really not such a bad concept.
As I understand what happened in Hazelwood, there was not a single moment in which anyone made any attempt to bring two or more human beings together for the purpose of resolving the issues presented by a couple of Girl Scouts selling cookies in their driveway.
The anonymous neighbor is still anonymous: I’m told the Mills family still isn’t sure who complained. So there was never any attempt to address concerns neighbor-to-neighbor.
The Hazelwood city bureaucracy did what city bureaucracies do: It acted on a complaint by sending out an official notice to the Mills family that it stood in violation of its ordinances.
Hazelwood officials were just doing their job, and as they noted in the news release, issued no tickets or charges against the families. This is not a case of bad conduct by city officials. Far from it.
But there was no Andy Griffith in Hazelwood, just like there isn’t in most other “communities” in America. I put “communities” in quotation marks because that’s where they belong: In our cold and litigious society, the sense of com-
munity is dying even in our neighborhoods.
Why couldn’t it be a role of a city government to at least attempt to bring people together to address the traffic problem or the barking-dogs problem or the other “nuisances” cited by Hazelwood as having justified telling two little girls they can’t sell cookies in their driveway for charity?
For that matter, why couldn’t the family have tried to work this out with the city on a peaceful basis, rather than getting a lawyer and deciding to make a test case out of their plight? I happen to be sympathetic to them, but I can’t say they made any more of an attempt at friendly
conflict resolution than did the city officials.
I don’t question the sincerity of Hazelwood officials for a minute. I think they were trying to do what was right and consistent and fair.
But there’s a real lack of perspective here. Consider this statement from the city’s news release:
“The government can’t treat people differently because their motives may be more charitable or more noble than someone else’s. If Ms. Mills is allowed to operate her stand for weeks at a time, why can’t the neighbors who need extra money to feed their families each set up mini stores in their front yards all up and down the block?”
Now there’s a fine point. Imagine how terrible it would be if people needing to feed their families sold stuff in their front yards? God, that would be awful.
Actually, maybe I should keep God out of this.
Call me crazy, call me soft on crime, and call me insensitive to the virtue of tranquility—it’s all been said before—but I really wouldn’t hate it if my street were filled with little kids selling cookies and lemonade and needy neighbors peddling their wares to survive.
I’d probably be willing to abide a little traffic inconvenience. I wouldn’t mind the noise of barking dogs. It would feel like I lived in a nice, caring neighborhood.
And if someone pointed out that it all violated zoning laws, I’d say change the zoning laws.
But what do I know?
I learned about neighboring from Dennis the Menace and Andy Griffith.
SLM co-owner ray hartmann is a panelist on KETC Channel 9’s Donnybrook, which airs Thursdays at 7 p.m.
