The Mushroom Factor

I’m a fair person. I strive to do the journalistic thing of covering both sides of the story, even though as a blogger I’m not legally required to do so. I do this because I consider myself a caring and ethical person.

So today I’m following up on yesterday’s post regarding Wisconsin Management Company and their lease with Jordan Gonnering, the UW-Madison student who found his fiancé murdered in the apartment they shared. Previous news reports stated the property management company had not determined it would release Gonnering from the remaining 16 months of his lease.

Today Wisconsin Management Company did the right thing. According to owner Russ Endres, the company announced it has decided “to release all parties from any lease obligations.”

This was a caring and ethical thing to do, and for this I applaud Wisconsin Management Company.

Every once in a while something happens within a community that causes outrage, fear and unrest. Such is the case here in Wisconsin with last week’s murder of Brittany Zimmerman, a 21-yr-old medical microbiology and immunology major at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She was found by her fiancé in the apartment they shared near downtown Madison.

In a city that prides itself for its down-to-earth, humanistic and relatively crime-free living, this event has caused a compassioned uproar that continues to spread from one concern to another. Residents and college students question whether police are doing enough to protect the public. Homeless panhandlers now bring suspicion and debate. And now, as of this weekend, the community’s ire has spread to the matter of housing.

Rightfully so.

Yesterday’s news reported that Zimmerman’s fiancé, Jordan Gonnering, (who, by the way, was ruled out as a suspect in the case) may have to continue renting the apartment where he discovered her slain body. Gonnering, a 22-year-old UW-Madison student, may be bound to the 16 months he has remaining on his lease with Wisconsin Management Company, in spite of his wishes to live elsewhere.

Russ Endres, owner of Wisconsin Management Company, gave no definite answer to the media, yet said his company:

“must treat its thousands of renters fairly and equally. It also ‘has an obligation … to the owners of the property. ‘ He confirmed he has contacted the property owners, Janet and Carl Van Rooy, of Indianapolis, about the situation, but he wouldn ‘t say if the Van Rooys were willing to waive the lease.

Carl Van Rooy, who is a partner in Wisconsin Management Co., also is chief executive officer of Van Rooy Properties, which manages apartments in Indiana, Florida and Missouri and rents commercial space in Indianapolis. Van Rooy refused to comment Friday.”

—Wisconsin State Journal, Sunday, April 13, 2008

I’m amazed that Wisconsin Management Company could even entertain ideas of not waiving Gonnering’s lease. As a parent of four children, all of whom attended University of Wisconsin schools and rented area properties, I’m well aware of the racket landlords have going in college communities. Wisconsin Management, with its out-of-state owners and large volume of properties, easily meets the classic slum-lord criteria.

If you’re considering renting an apartment soon or are parents of college-age children looking to rent, please take time to research Wisconsin Management Company, which manages rental property throughout Wisconsin and Illinois. Also check out Van Rooy Properties, which leases out property in Indiana, Missouri and Florida. Be aware of recent events and the possible moral ethics of these two companies.

If you have opinions on the matter of releasing Gonnering from his lease, please email Kevin Senke, vice president of Wisconsin Management Company, or call (608) 258-2080.

I subscribe to the wise adage that says the sign of a good marriage is a well-bitten tongue. My husband probably doesn’t agree that I subscribe to this, but, oh, I really do. I think I do even more when it comes to home renovation.

My husband and I have been married for almost thirty years. He is my soul mate. But, yes, we are different people and, no, we don’t always agree on how things should be done. Of course, I’m always right. And, of course, he never listens.

And so I bite my tongue. Well, I try to.

Here’s an example.

We’re working on this kitchen renovation project. We’ve been at it for more than a year and it’s coming along great. When I say “we’re working on it,” I mean I’m the creative brain and my husband is the mechanical brawn. In other words, I tell him what to do and he does it. How can it get any better than that?

So, the latest phase is cabinetry, specifically some cool cubbies customized to fit at 45-degree angles around the microwave positioned in the corner (not exactly calculation-free construction). My husband’s first response is, “No, that’s not going to work.” I come back with, “Sure, we’ll just do this and we’ll just do that…” We, meaning he. He obligingly builds the cabinets, hoists them into place, stains and varnishes them.

My contribution to this project, beyond the creative instruction? Not much…aside from gleefully filling the cubbies with cute little apothecary jars that, when all totaled, will probably cost more than the oak wood for the cabinetry because my husband cut down the trees himself and planed the wood. Are you getting the picture here just how much of this kitchen he’s actually doing?

So, when he inadvertently slathers polyurethane on my new microwave because five minutes of prep work seems unreasonable, should I say anything? Or, if his idea of a finely sanded finish is slightly rougher than mine, dare I criticize? Not if I want this cool kitchen project to continue.

Instead, while he’s off to his day job, I whip out the 800-grit paper for a few extra buffs and I apply protective masking tape before the next coat of finish. And I bite my tongue.

Finally, I write about it here, because as private as the Internet is, I doubt he’ll ever see it.

Ah, relief for the well-bitten tongue.

Kermit the frog was right on more accounts than one when he said “it’s not easy being green.” The fact that a dozen other authors have entitled their stories with the same expression says they tend to agree. Yes, green is definitely topic of choice these days.

For our accounts, it’s not easy living a green lifestyle. Living green, or ecological living, is defined as a philosophy that aims to preserve the earth for future generations of human beings and other life. It’s an understanding that the decisions we make today affect the environment and all living things within it today and tomorrow.

My husband and I like to think we’re doing our fair share of green living. We do a bit of gardening and raise our own meat. I work from home and save commuting costs. Ninety-five percent of our home’s heat comes from burning dead wood. Heck, we don’t even use air-conditioning.

But are we really living green? For every green, or ecological, thing we do, it seems there are anti-green consequences.

Let’s take our home for example. In order for us to garden and raise livestock, it’s necessary for us to live in a rural setting. This is a choice we’ve made and we love the county life. However, for anything we do away from our home—for groceries, for school, for church, to visit family—absolutely everything requires at least fifteen miles of driving and a half hour of time round trip to the nearest town, which in our case is rather small.

Driving to town has always been part of my life and I’ve never given it much thought. But just to keep me from becoming too smug in my greenness, author George Zens writes about ethanol in the Sustainable Times. He describes our insatiable dependency on fuel for our cars and how producing ethanol has a negative affect on food prices, the environment and our national budget.

What about burning wood for home heating? By burning wood in conjunction with our natural gas furnace, we save a bundle on heating costs, reduce dependency on depletable fuel and get a good physical workout to boot. Sure seems like a natural and ecological thing to do. But is it really? If everyone burned wood, how would our quality of air compare to the overall cleanliness we enjoy today? How concerned should we be about the growing number of outdoor wood burners, which often are less efficient and considerably more pollutant?

And finally there’s our air-conditioning. Or, lack thereof. We live on a hill with large, old shade trees that blow beautiful breezes throughout the summer. I never want to confine ourselves inside when we can easily relish the outdoors through open windows. Besides, are we becoming such wimpy people that we must always have air-conditioning? Ah, but let me confess. We have a swimming pool. It’s a 25-ft. above-the-ground eyesore that regularly requires electricity for filtering and chemicals for cleanliness.

Maybe I shouldn’t sound so self-righteous and hoity-toity after all.

No, it’s not easy being green.

Today the mushroom factor, the phenomenon that one small factor will inevitably lead to much more, struck in full force. And I wasn’t even working on my house! Well, not entirely.

Over the years, as we’ve renovated various rooms in our 1917 American Foursquare, John Bhend has popped up here and there. Better said, he’s popped up almost everywhere—under the stairs, behind the woodwork, in the attic. Wherever there’s a backside of lumber, there’s John Bhend.

His name, anyway.

Many pieces of wood in our house bear the scrawled signature of “John Bhend, Watertown, Wi.” We’ve always thought it was rather cool and assumed he built our house. We’ve heard somewhere that loads of wood are commonly labeled with the builder’s name before being shipped to the building site.

So today, I had a few minutes to spare and stopped at the Dodge/Jefferson Counties Genealogical Society. My intention was to learn a bit about John Bhend, but instead the mushroom factor kicked in. Obviously, you don’t spend just a few minutes in a genealogical society, not if you have an inkling of investigative curiosity for anything historical. Within minutes of my arrival, several helpful people brought me Plat books, old city directories and obituaries. Not only did I get information on our guy, but I now have a list of previous property owners back to the 1860’s and a fixation to learn more.

But back to John Bhend.

According to a 1930 city directory, John was indeed a general contractor and home builder. His ad details 18 years of experience in building or remodeling and guarantees good construction, blue prints and specifications to the customer’s order. His obituary, dated March 2, 1944, describes him as a “widely known contractor” who was also a member of the Watertown Builder’s Club.

Reading John Bhend’s obituary brings him to life as more than the builder of our house. He becomes a person, as well. According to the paper, he was born in Aschi, Canton of Bern, Switzerland on Sept. 28, 1881, to Mr. and Mrs. Christian Bhend. In 1906, at the age of 25, he came to the U.S. and for a time lived with his brother Christ Bhend.

On October 4, 1913, John married Saraphine Krueger (Saraphine—what a beautiful name!) Together they had two children; a daughter, Irene, and a son, Marcel, who at the time of his father’s death was serving in the Pacific in World War II. Saraphine preceded John in death in 1935.

The obituary goes on to list John as a member of the Congregational Church, Watertown Lodge No. 49, F& AM and Watertown’s Plattdeutscher Verein (Low German Club). He also was a director of the Wisconsin National Bank and active in local affairs.

So that’s John Bhend, the guy beneath our stairs and behind our woodwork. If our house is a testament to his work, he was indeed a very fine builder. Ninety-one years later, it stands sound and true.

But now I want to know more. How many other homes in our area bear his name? And which ones? What do those homes look like today? The mushroom factor has definitely kicked in.