A 'mundane' North Side moment that isn't all bad

Can spaghetti change the world? Jim Lovestar sure hopes so.

Lovestar, a soft-spoken massage therapist, looks at the kids in his neighborhood and envisions them 40 years from now. He wants them to say: "God, I am glad I grew up here."

That "here" is north Minneapolis might raise eyebrows, but not among residents such as Lovestar, 59, who have lived here for decades. They're painfully aware that "north Minneapolis" has become a metaphor for violence instead of what it is, a broad swath of unique blocks and neighborhoods with tremendous challenges and solid citizens who want what everybody wants. Safety. Good schools. Home ownership. A vibrant communal and economic life.

They could throw up their hands, as many of us would, or they could throw spaghetti against the wall, which one resident did Sunday night in the packed basement of the True Vine Missionary Baptist Church at 26th Street and Thomas Avenue N. Dinner was served: homemade bread, heaping pasta, salads and cakes.

The event was the second of what Lovestar and his wife, Nettie, who live a block away, hope will become regular events. In December, about 35 neighbors broke bread together. Sunday's event drew twice that many.

"We want to, uh, what's the word I'm looking for? ... Engage neighbors in a discussion beyond the well-meaning white people thing," said Lovestar, who has lived in north Minneapolis since 1988. "We come from different circles. We want to learn more."

Word spread by phone calls, door-knocking and kids handing out fliers. Jo Ann Ulm, who has lived on Upton Avenue N. for 21 years, came early with four grandchildren she's raising. "There was a murder in the drug house across the street," Ulm said, hardly shying away from the stark undercurrent of daily life. "For the most part, everything's pretty calm. We're way on the upswing."

The dinner included door prizes -- flashlights and a smoke-and-fire-alarm set from North End Hardware & Rental -- a grocery donation from the Robbinsdale Rainbow, and a questionnaire that sent kids spinning around the room to find "someone who loves to ride a bike," and "someone who moved into the neighborhood in the last year."

The latter distinction belongs to Emma and Tyler Fiala, who are in their mid-20s and conducted an exhaustive Twin Cities search before finding a home they loved near Theodore Wirth Parkway. They paid $66,000 for the two-story, one-bath house, with a sun room and two fireplaces.

"In other neighborhoods, people stuck to themselves," said Emma, who works with autistic children. "You have to be part of the community here, and that's attractive."

Emma built the www.upperwho.org website, which has been a source of pride for neighbors. She's gearing up for a neighborhood rummage sale Saturday.

"It's like yeast growing," Nettie Lovestar said of the multi-pronged efforts. Nettie used to live "south" and had some stereotypes. Now she walks everywhere, "all the time, and never once in 14 years has somebody hassled me. I'm not saying that it doesn't happen, but the biggest danger is the kids hurting each other."

Tim Hammett, a 4th Precinct crime prevention specialist who lives in Hawthorne, is happy to hear it. "I feel privileged to do this work," he said. But Hammett's no romantic. Last week, his unit was dealing with more than a dozen assaults and robberies, many at gunpoint. Yet, there he was in the church basement, chatting it up.

So, potluck or assault. Which stories do we tell?

"Is it a newspaper's job to cover mundane things?" Hammett asks, rhetorically.

Maybe the better question is: Is this potluck mundane?

"Crime thrives in communities that aren't functioning right," he said. "Something will happen to cause alarm. People pull back, become a little more reluctant to go outside. Then the next bad thing happens and the next.