Mr. Charles Grandison Hoes Jr., the son of former slaves, bought this piece of land in the late 1800s. He parceled the land out to his children and then sold to other people. Black service members bought houses built for them after WWII. It has been, until recently, a majority black neighborhood, a necessity considering Hampden’s (the large neighborhood next door) whites only past. Hampden is much improved in both attitude and racial integration. Hoes Heights is also more racially mixed. I looked at a house here (I’m white, btw) before I bought the house I have now. I wish I could have bought it but there was an overwhelming scent of cat pee thoughout the house and I was worried that couldn’t be corrected completely. I have a friend who lives in Hoes Heights. It’s a very tight knit neighborhood where the kids can still run around and play and people keep an eye on them.
Lest you think I’ve goofed, the name is officially Hoes Heights without the apostrophe. Place names with apostrophes are extremely rare in the United States, Martha’s Vineyard being a famous example.
Charlie is sniffing at a huge tire sunk in the ground on a sloping, otherwise unused piece of land. There are regular sized tires sunk deep in the ground to demark a pathway and a couple of tires nailed to a post. The other picture is along the alley there. I don’t know what the original purpose of those concrete cylinders was. Charlie and I discovered them on a walk about a year ago. I came back with my car and very suspiciously loaded 4 into my trunk. They make excellent weights when tied to my tent at craft shows.