305 Kiefaber St.

At the intersection of Kiefaber Street and Frericks Way, a brown-paneled house played host to many guests in the late ’60s, including a pet brick and a gaggle of hungry friends. 

The women of 305 Kiefaber always had someone crashing on the couch or staying for dinner. So much so that the Class of 1970 residents Maureen Cleary, Peni Cenedella, Maryanne Mott Schutte and Barbara Cicciollo Kaurin began collecting dinner dues. 

They’d charge $5 a week, and classmates would come by to be fed.  

“There were always people at our table that didn't live there,” Kaurin said. “They didn’t have to clean up or anything, and we were just happy to have them,” Kaurin said.

But the welcoming atmosphere of 305 Kiefaber lent itself to some mischief as well. 

One evening, the ladies noticed the avocado sapling they had planted had disappeared, and in its place was a ransom note demanding a six-pack for the plant’s safe return. They obliged, leaving the offering under a designated bush, and the sapling was returned. 

A pet brick — aptly named “Brick” — was an honorary member of the house, and guests coming and going would enjoy moving and hiding it all around the house, Cleary said. 

The haven that was their house for two years was solidified with one somber and “very poignant night,” according to the group. On Dec. 1, 1969, the United States conducted and televised a lottery to determine the order in which young men would be drafted into the Vietnam War. 

“All of these young men were glued to their TVs all across the country,” Kaurin said.

“We had a bunch of them who chose to come to our house to watch the draft. I think that says a lot about our house.”

With the group living there, the house became a landing spot for the neighborhood, which extended out to the front lawn where Schutte met her future husband and all the way into the street where, with the help of their neighbors directing traffic, the gang left their mark by painting a large green shamrock on the pavement one St. Patrick’s Day. 

“Through all of the chaos of college, which there was a lot, our house always felt warm, safe and loved,” Cenedella said. “We had the trifecta: great food, great people and a great house.”  

Illustration by Kevin Johnson.