Neighbors take shine to Secret Service

As Marjorie Jones approached the phalanx of Secret Service agents posted around Senator John F. Kerry’s house on Louisburg Square yesterday, she stopped to ask whether the agents had enjoyed the hors d’oeuvres she sent over last week leftovers from a Kerry party on the square.

And when Robert O’Connell approached, he stopped short and raised his arms as though surrendering to arrest. An agent laughed and waved him on.

‘‘They are so courteous and professional,’’ gushed O’Connell, who heads the square’s homeowners’ association. ‘‘We couldn’t ask for more.

’’Many residents of the exclusive, gaslighted square of red-brick, row house mansions have been averse to change, as well as the publicity and commotion that surrounds their famous neighbor. But in this neighborhood synonymous with Boston Brahmins, the relationship that has sprung up between the often staid residents and the Secret Service agents guarding Kerry’s house is downright chummy. In the five months since a squadron of agents first took up positions around the square, many residents have come to think of the agents as members of the family, or at least as members of their own private security force.

Agents have taken to helping residents with their groceries and, on occasion, watching over their children. Residents have baked cookies for agents, and one even called The Beacon Hill Times on Friday to suggest that the paper run a story about agents’ impeccable hygiene.

‘‘She said: ‘Have you noticed how nice the aftershave is worn by the Secret Servicemen? It just smells so nice,’ ’’ Times publisher Karen Cord Taylor recalled.

Three weeks ago, the Beacon Hill Civic Association gave the agents a set of custom-made neckties.

‘‘They said they’re going to wear them once during the DNC,’’ said Suzanne Besser, president of the association. The silk ties depict a map of the neighborhood, with Louisburg Square displayed prominently in the center.

It is an unusual turn of events, really.

When the agents first arrived in February, residents protested about the fleet of sport utility vehicles idling round-the-clock next to Kerry’s house. Some worried about security checkpoints delaying their domestic help, while others feared they would not be able to drop off groceries at their doorsteps.

‘‘Apparently there was some mix-up —a woman was trying to unload her groceries, and the Secret Service didn’t want her to stop her car to do it,’’ Taylor said.

For the Secret Service, the Louisburg Square operation is the first of its kind in such a densely populated urban neighborhood, agents said. It marks the first time the agency held a public meeting to address residents’ concerns, and the agents’ reluctance was clear to the 50 or so who attended. ‘‘They said, ‘ Now, this is the only meeting we’ve ever had, and it’s the last,’ ’’ Taylor said.

But almost immediately, Secret Service agents tried to find filters for their SUVs’ exhaust pipes in response to concerns raised at the meeting. They turned the vehicles around so that the exhaust blew downhill, away from basement windows. Agents also agreed to keep the SUVs —sometimes a half-dozen or more — as far as possible from the windows at night.

Then one day when Kerry’s next-door neighbor was carrying groceries into her house, agents stepped in to assist. And last month, the agents on duty kept watch when two residents’ young sons pitched a tent and camped out in the grassy park in the center of the square.

‘‘Their mothers wouldn’t have allowed them to camp out if the Secret Servicemen weren’t there,’’ said Taylor, who estimated the boys were 12 and 13.

Residents say the security provided by the agents — a dozen or more when Kerry is there — is a boon to the neighborhood.

Of course, it is Beacon Hill — Louisburg Square, to be specific. Although residents may have adopted the Secret Service agents, some continue to bristle at the steady stream of tourists and media members who file by Kerry’s house — a$6.6 million, five-story manse that was once a convent.

While agents stationed at the square yesterday declined to be identified because of Secret Service policy, some said they appreciated residents’ acceptance. One said he had given his cellphone number to residents so ‘‘they can call us for anything. ’’

But as for his Beacon Hill tie, the agent expressed a little dismay at the color scheme — an ungainly combination of gold, silver, blue, green, and red — but he promised to wear it soon. ‘‘Maybe in August,’’ he said.