On a Friday night in a neighborhood off Abbott Road, an elderly woman settles in for another weekend amongst college students.
With her television on, a game of solitaire in progress and her cats, Princess and Butch, beside her, she stays up late entertaining herself while the students outside partake in weekend partying.
Her home is cozy and well kept. It holds an air of nostalgia, giving off the sensation that a lot of memories live within its walls. In her living room, a plethora of picture frames showcases her years of living in East Lansing.
An MSU alumna, Janice Pfiefer, 75, has lived among college students for more than 30 years. She is one of the few permanent residents on Oakhill Avenue - with her home nestled among student housing, fraternities and only a few blocks away from the downtown bars, she is in prime-party territory.
Despite the occasional noises on her street, Pfiefer said her relationships with her neighbors are "wonderful," and she fits right in despite her age. She even gets invited to the parties, but she usually declines. Her reason? She doesn't like beer.
Although beer might not interest her, Pfiefer enjoys the memories she's had living in a student-populated neighborhood during the past few decades.
"The older you get, the more you live on the memories," Pfiefer said. "I like living here and being in the midst of things."
A stroll down memory lane
As a longtime East Lansing resident, Pfiefer has seen the city change from a small post-World War II town into the heavily student-populated residency it is today.
She and her late husband moved onto Stoddard Avenue in 1947. Pfiefer said during that time, the street was considered beyond city limits. She described her old neighborhood as more rural.
"Every time a car drove by it kicked by a load of dust since the street wasn't paved," Pfiefer said.
Students began migrating into East Lansing not long after Pfiefer moved in. With the end of World War II, veterans sought education, she said.
Pfiefer soon joined the student population, attending MSU as a graduate student.
"My memories of Michigan State are pretty darn good," Pfiefer said. "I enjoyed being around the students."
She liked the students so much that she became a teacher once she received her master's degree in education. The job gave her the opportunity to gain patience in dealing with students, a skill she practices with her neighbors.
"I taught the sixth grade and I know a little smart aleck when I see one," Pfiefer said.
In 1968, she moved to her present residence. Most of the houses were privately owned. In place of one of the fraternities on the street, Sigma Nu, was a sorority house.
Pfiefer described the transition of privately owned homes to student rentals as gradual.
"I started to notice it in the '70s," she said. "As someone would move out, it would be bought by someone who would rent it to students," she said.
"The people who we bought this house from assured us that fraternities and sororities make good neighbors because they don't want to get in trouble with the police," Pfiefer said. "My, how things have changed."
Among those changes, people are more disrespectful than they used to be, she said.
One morning after an unruly night on her block, Pfiefer woke up to find broken bottles on her front lawn. She admitted this isn't an everyday occurrence, but it does happen.
"My main concern is the rubbish on my lawn," she said. "I don't want anyone getting hurt, especially my grandkids."
Community relations
Many permanent residents, like Pfiefer, have learned throughout the years to share space with students. But sometimes, the blending of off-campus students and the permanent residents in East Lansing neighborhoods can lead to friction within the community.
Howard Asch, director of code enforcement and neighborhood conservation in East Lansing, said clashing lifestyles is one of the biggest complaints from students and permanent residents.
"There are people up and roaming the streets at 2 or 3 in the morning and talking loudly or making noise that wakes people up," he said "That makes it particularly difficult for those who have to get up early and work in the morning."
Asch said another issue that came with increasing off-campus student populations is more traffic.
"When you think about these neighborhoods, they were originally created at a time when each family might have a car. Now you might have four or five people on a property that have cars," he said. "That's drastically increased traffic."
Despite these conflicts, some permanent residents are still drawn to living in a college town, Asch said.
"A lot of people like the vibrancy," he said. "They like the downtown. They like being able to walk to the community center or to university activities."
Some East Lansing officials said the relationships between students and residents tend to fluctuate, especially after particularly negative episodes such as riots.
East Lansing police Capt. Juli Liebler said there have been periods of good will, leading to the formation of organizations such as the Community Relations Committee, which seeks to increase communication among all East Lansing residents. She also noted that sometimes students take the initiative to extend themselves to their neighbors.
"There have been times when student groups, for example fraternities and sororities, have helped a neighbor rake their yard or take out the trash," she said.
But there are still many instances where students clash with their residents because of their interests, Liebler said.
"It's just two different ways of life," she said.
The weekend scene
Describing herself as a night owl, Pfiefer finds herself awake while the students party into the night. Having lived among students for so long, she admitted she knows what goes on at these parties.
Betsy Smalley, Pfiefer's granddaughter and also an MSU alumna, described her grandmother as "sharp, witty, adventurous and smart."
"She doesn't complain about the college students," Smalley said.
Smalley recalled her early childhood with a smile. "When I was little I thought it was so cool she lived by the fraternities," she said. "They would play basketball and I'd watch from the window."
Having fraternities among her neighbors doesn't bother Pfiefer. Oakhill Avenue is adjacent to Abbott Road, home of four fraternities. This has led to many entertaining stories that Pfiefer loved delving into.
Reminiscing on an incident, Pfiefer described the situation with intermittent laughter. One afternoon she and friends started to head out the back door when out of nowhere, two young men streaked past her home in broad daylight.
"I had time to get my camera!" she said. "All they had on were baseball hats, socks and shoes."
She has the pictures to this day.
In a separate incident, Pfiefer had her house broken into by a drunken student who thought she was at the right address.
"She thought she was at a different house on Evergreen (Avenue)," Pfiefer said. "The police said she was the drunkest girl they've ever seen."
These memories make her living experience worthwhile.
"The entertainment value is there," Pfiefer said.
Positive relationships
Due, in part, to the entertainment, being a permanent resident on a block populated by students doesn't bother Pfiefer.
"I don't even think about that," she said. "It doesn't concern me as much who lives next to me."
As a fraternity on her street, Sigma Nu tries to keep good relations between Pfiefer and their home.
Joe George, president of the fraternity, said the brothers try to keep an eye out for her.
"What we do every fall and spring, we'll go over and rake her leaves and stuff like that," said George, a marketing junior. "We try to keep her attitude toward our house positive."
But for Pfiefer, the most chaotic night of each year is Sigma Nu's annual welcome weekend party.
"They send over some poor little pledge who will tell the old lady the party will start at 10 o' clock and be over by midnight," Pfiefer said. However she knew better.
"I know that they're not going to start until midnight and it won't be over until three in the morning, but that's what he's been told to tell me," she said.
Most of the neighbors also tell Pfiefer if they plan on having a party. They even give her a cell phone number where she can reach them.
"Trouble is, they never hear the phone ring," Pfiefer said, laughing
Despite this, Pfiefer still claimed she hasn't had any quarrels with any neighbors on her block and her neighbors found a similar attitude.
Sigma Nu member, Ryan Nowicki, a criminal justice senior said, "She's our girl, we take care of her."
Staff writer Emily Bingham contributed to this report.
Nikki Choluj can be reached at cholujni@msu.edu.




