Unkept and abandoned, lax house still stands

The windows are boarded up. The door is padlocked. The doorbell still rings, but no one moves to answer.

Although it has been two years since three lacrosse players were exonerated of any criminal behavior within these splintering walls, the house at 610 N. Buchanan Blvd. has been preserved like a crime scene.

Television crews have come and gone, the players falsely accused of sexual assault that night have transferred or graduated from the University and even Crystal Mangum, who brought forth the charges, ruminated on her experiences in a tell-all memoir published last Fall.

But the story of the lacrosse case is still unfolding in the courts-and until these civil suits are resolved, the house must be preserved.

Executive Vice President Tallman Trask said the University contacted attorneys representing members of the 2005-2006 lacrosse team about tearing down the house to build a new residence as part of the Duke-Durham Neighborhood Partnership, but the request was denied.

"610 N. Buchanan remains a piece of evidence, and so it can only be removed with the consent of all the parties," Trask said in an interview with The Chronicle in February. "The lawyers all have to agree that they don't need it. I think actually we might ask them again, but their argument was you have to actually stand in that bathroom to understand how preposterous the claims were, and the pictures just don't do it justice."

And so the house still stands, serving as legal fodder for the attorneys representing former lacrosse players and-for some living in the neighborhood-a constant reminder of the wounds opened by the scandal.

"It's in the hands of the courts right now-there's not much that I can do to speculate about when things are going to move forward," he said. "Inevitably when people see that house or drive past that house, it does stir up memories and recollections of a part of Duke's history that was not something that we would want to repeat."

Washington, D.C.-based attorney Charles Cooper, who is representing 38 unindicted members of the 2005-2006 men's lacrosse team, could not be reached for comment.

Professor of Law Thomas Metzloff said he doubts the house would be a valuable piece of evidence for the plaintiffs in a civil trial. If Duke decided to proceed with its plans to tear down the house, the civil attorneys would be unable to stop the University unless they obtained a court order from a judge, Metzloff noted.

"I suppose maybe the plaintiffs in the civil cases are thinking there's something about how the house is laid out that says what Duke should have known-it seems far-fetched to me," he said. "You pick your fights in litigation, and this is apparently one that Duke doesn't think is worth getting into a fight over."

Schoenfeld acknowledged that 610 N. Buchanan remains an "infamous address" in Durham, but he does not think the stigma will persist much longer.

"The original intention of purchasing the property has not gone away-we're committed to enhancing the neighborhood," he said. "That will be far more memorable for the long-term history of the University than a particular incident that happened there."

Life after lacrosse

Steve Ortmann, who lives in a Trinity Park home that was renovated and resold by the University, can see the infamous property from his kitchen window. But he said his mind rarely turns to the lacrosse case when his eyes pass over the mud-splattered walls next door.

"The house has been empty for so long," he said. "When people come over they're interested to hear about the property, but it doesn't affect us at all. The house was never an issue."

But Ortmann said he is sometimes irked by the house's appearance. The University has dramatically overhauled most dilapidated properties in the Trinity Park neighborhood, making the house at 610 N. Buchanan even more of an eyesore, he noted.

To avoid tampering with evidence, Duke cannot do much to maintain the property beyond mowing the lawn, Schoenfeld said.

Although improvements would please the neighbors, the University does not consider renovating a house that is slated for demolition to be a worthwhile expense, Trask added.

A woman who has lived at 608 N. Buchanan since September said she did not learn the historical significance of the property next door until after she moved in, when she was clued in by the occasional reporter and informal student tour groups gawking at the house.

"It's an interesting place to live," said the woman, who requested anonymity because the topic is still "taboo." "I do a lot of work with sexual assault victims, so it's kind of an interesting symbolic place. Sometimes you look at it and you just see it as this awful site of gender and racial violence."

Although it can be painful to look upon the property, the woman said she does not think the house should go. She and several other neighbors expressed fear that if the home were torn down, valuable discussions about Duke-Durham relations and women's place in the community would be lost in the rubble.

But Ortmann said most residents of the neighborhood are in agreement that the house should be torn down.

"Neighbors want it to go," he said. "I think it was a really difficult chapter for the neighborhood, as well as the University. Until it's gone, it's hard to move on. The very first day that legal proceedings are over, we'd like to see Duke tearing it down."

Garry Wein, Trinity '71, a former features editor of The Chronicle who now lives in Trinity Park, said the lacrosse case raised many thorny questions about town-gown relations and campus culture. He does not know where he stands on all these issues, but his opinion on what should be done with the house is unequivocal.

"Tear it down and make the neighborhood whole again," he said.

David Graham contributed reporting.