The Sound-Traveling Walls of Old Greenbelt Homes

The first person to weigh in with me on the noisy walls of old Greenbelt was a young mom out on a walk near Hillside Road, "Our neighbors snore really loud, pound up and down the stairs, have clocks that chirp with different bird songs at the different hours," said Elizabeth, who lives in a frame on Ridge Road.

Despite this, Elizabeth endures the noise because with kids and a dog on her side of the walls, she thinks they're bearing with her too.

Heather Costen also thinks her neighbors are practicing tolerance. Pushing her youngest daughter in a stroller while her other two walked alongside, Heather stopped to talk, telling me she sometimes hears the neighbors' washing machine but is more worried about her families' noise level. Looking down at her soft-spoken Kewpie lookalikes, I didn't get the concern.

Heather explained that in her small Ridge Road unit, her daughters and son have to use their creativity to make a playroom because there's no space for a real one. And it's sometimes noisy, especially when "they pretend the bed's a trampoline and they wrestle on it," she said.

Bidding goodbye to Heather and her angelic beings, I went off seeking a block or brick dweller to see if they had similar problems. That's when I ran into Jennifer Patterson playing with her four-year old on a mini GHI playground.

"If a person's having a heated argument, you can definitely pick up on it in the bathroom, even if they're not near the bathroom," Jennifer said, referring to the back to back medicine cabinets in the brick units in her neighborhood — that had no insulation between them.

She took particular offence at her former neighbor's cursing. "I actually threw the window open and screamed out to him, 'Don't call your mother that word,'" Jennifer said.

The noises levels of today are less than they were in the old days according to 40-year Greenbelt veteran, Fred Hutchinson, who stopped outside his frame to talk with me. He recalled families being much larger when he was growing up, and increased size meant more noise. His current home on Plateau Place is quiet by comparison.

When sound travels now, it's in the bathroom. This might be due to the lack of sound absorbing objects, Fred guessed. But if I wanted exact answers, he recommended I "talk to someone who knows physics and they could tell you more."

Sitting down later in Starbucks with a cup of caramel macchiato, I heeded Fred's advice. Across from me sat Tom Moran, the physicist who was tackling his walls with a fervor that brought back childhood memories of Wile E. Coyote v. Road Runner — the plans, the plotting, the Acme packages.

But unlike Wile, I realized Tom's ideas held weight – when I could understand them: "Our ear has a response which is not what we would call linear," Tom explained. "We have a response that's called logarithmic… so you have to reduce something a factor of 10, a sound level, to even notice it. But to get sound down to where you can't hear it, you often have to reduce it a factor of a million or more."

Tom had first-hand experience with Old Greenbelt's walls. He had started operation noise-be-gone at the stairwell of his Plateau Place frame. Local contractors had talked with him about applying a ½-inch layer of Homasote soundboard to the old wall with a 5/8-inch sheet of drywall on top of that.

One of the contractors admitted he had done this at home, but his wife, who had inspired the renovation, was still unhappy with the noise. The problem, Tom explained, was that the contractor had only reduced the sound level by around 10.

Tom wanted more. One-half inch of drywall later, with lots of messy soundproofing green glue added on top, and yet another sheet of 5/8^-inch drywall sandwiched over that, Tom felt he had reduced the noise level by a thousand. But sound still got through, so Tom decided to go for the million.

More green glue followed, along with another layer of 5/8^-inch drywall, and soundproofing caulk in every crack or pinhole he could find. Tom said that worked, "I can't hear any conversation through that wall, I can't hear the TV through that wall, I can't hear the vacuum cleaner through that wall."

The bathroom was next. He replaced the old drywall, and added soundproofing caulk, denim insulation and a recycled-rubber-soundproofing mat known respectfully as "the peacemaker."

He also installed concrete board in the shower area and a steel plate barrier between his and his neighbors' medicine cabinets. He feels his bathroom still lets in more noise than a modern townhome via the plumbing, but is relieved that he no longer has to listen to his neighbors squabbling.

For those Greenbelters short on physics or on a piggy bank for renovations, there are other options according to GHI General Manager Gretchen Overdurff.

"We have noise ordinances in Greenbelt," she said, referring to late night and early morning quiet hours. GHI also asks neighbors to place stereos and TVs away from the common party walls.

When kinder gentler methods don't work, Gretchen said members could initiate a formal complaint process. But for those who don't want to trouble with feuding or drywall, there is a simpler solution.

"If you become friends with people, they're more likely to be considerate of your needs than if you have a contentious relationship," Gretchen advised. "The most effective thing is common courtesy between neighbors."