Current Events, Perspective, Poland - Polish - Polonia, Political

Nouveau Neighbors

This is typical of the things that happen when people move into a neighborhood thinking that all must change because they’ve arrived.

It happens in Upstate New York quite a bit. People move into rural areas expecting picket fences and the scent of roses. What they get is electric fences and the scent of cows and horses.

Then they decide to do the neighborly thing – they bring complaints and lawsuits against the farmers, who have been there since the 1800’s.

Jackie Briguglio of the Chicago area moved in across from a PNA youth camp that’s been active for 72 years and suddenly she’s owed peace and quiet 24/7. Alice May who has lived in the area for 43 years gets it. Ms. Briguglio only understand litigation and the police state.

From The Chicago Tribune: Community clash puts damper on Polish camp

Upset neighbors cite rising crowds, noise

Everyone seems to agree that the Polish camp near Yorkville is a quiet neighbor most of the summer, with kids splashing in the swimming pool and families attending Sunday mass in an open-air chapel, then picnicking under the trees.

But the dances and special events grated on some nerves. Polka beats thumped, cars crowded River Road and, one weekend last summer, 7,000 visitors came for a glimpse of the World’s Strongest Man, a stubble-headed Pole capable of carrying a refrigerator.

So this summer, Kendall County in effect exercised a pocket veto of the Polish National Alliance Youth Camp’s special events, failing to approve permits until it was too late to schedule, camp spokesmen said.

The county said it takes time to work out conflicts between the camp and some neighbors.

Either way, the result has been a summer without the four or five fundraisers that usually keep the camp in business, and a sense that times are changing for the 72-year-old camp and the Polish community that sustains it.

As Kendall county has grown — it was the nation’s second-fastest growing county from 2000 to 2006, according to the U.S. Census Bureau — it has gone from rural to more suburban, leaving camp
officials feeling unwelcome.

“We were there before everybody else,” said Chicago attorney Chris Nowotarski, who represents the organization, “and now we’re being pushed out.”

There’s even talk of selling the property and moving elsewhere.

But some neighbors said big-draw weekends bring in rowdy crowds, and the county had to deal with the problem.

The camp is affiliated with the alliance, a Polish fraternal organization. Jointly established by the alliance’s North Side and South Side districts in Chicago, it is a place where generations of
immigrants could escape the city and celebrate their culture in the country.

Jackie Briguglio, who lives across the street from the camp, said the music at dances is too loud, though the camp insists it doesn’t exceed county decibel limits. And special events, particularly the
visit of the strongman, have become a nuisance for the neighborhood, with reports of people urinating in Yorkville yards.

Some neighbors shrug off the occasional crowds. Alice May, a retired businesswoman who has lived across the street for 43 years, said she charges people to park in her yard during special events. Her children learned to swim there, and she recalls an old-country naivete among some visitors.

But Briguglio, the neighbor, has saved a newspaper story that invites the public to attend. So she’s not taking any chances.

“I already called the police,” she said, “and I’m going to be out of town that weekend.”