Great neighborhoods are a gift but I also think we have lost the ability to create them. My parents were really gifted at being able to create community. They did by literally inviting people in. They walked down the street, knocked on doors, introduced themselves and invited people to a casual party. In his early 80’s my dad started a neighborhood poetry group where people read and discussed poems. I wish I could say that I learned from their example but I have never done anything like that. But I am not in my 80’s yet. Maybe it’s not too late to start.
I’m a student and have moved to various different houses with difference friends almost every year for the past 10 years. The only neighbor that I have ever gotten to know throughout those 10 years became one of my closest friends. He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I always thought to myself, what are the chances. Otherwise, I’ve never known a neighbor in my adult life.
The dogs were in CA. I think the kids called them Auntie and Uncle also.
Samoan actually. When I asked her if I could marry her daughter her mom said “when you marry the daughter you marry the family”. I said I’ve been calling you mom for years.
We probably wouldn’t use Aunti and Uncle if we were both from the mainland and lived there. In Hawaii all elders are Aunti and Uncle or Tutu.
Born as a third generation American of German Lutheran background, I experienced growing up with two different givens defining neighborhoods. Until grade five I viewed corn fields to south and east. To north and west a few homes of paternal relatives, cutting edge of urban chicagoans retiring to rural pre-suburbia. I was enrolled in the village Lutheran school. All my friends were from that group, averaging one friend every two blocks. We gathered, played baseball, occasionally interacted with other kids, but not too much. Grade five I finished at a Lutheran school in New Mexico. Same M.O.
Friends were limited to schoolmates. Neighborhood for my family meant our congregation. All socials
Reflected the church-year. In that world family life was defined as home, church and school. That world still exists. I prefer the revision that suggests gifting the new next-door folks with some fresh baked cookies and a smile. Home is really a movable feast, or perhaps just a movable feat.
As a child in the 60's, I would go out to play in the morning and come home during the day only for lunch and dinner; I had to be home for good by the time it got dark. I had several friends within a block of where I lived and we played all day together. Our next door neighbor was a nice older couple and I used to go over there daily as they would have cookies for me; she also made the best home tortillas that I would snack on. They had animals that I could play with and I can also remember sitting and watching TV. In my early teen years, I would go over there and use their telephone to call my boyfriend, that my parents wouldn't let me call. I have such great childhood memories of neighbors and friends and I drive through neighborhoods today, and I don't see any kids outside playing and I feel so sad for those kids. I know it's not considered safe anymore to let your kids play outside without supervision in a lot of communities, and I also know that a lot of kids are behind screens and don't want to play outside, but it is still sad. As an adult, I haven't had much good luck with neighbors. :(
Once I came home from work and I could not find one of our dogs. I finally called my neighbors and they said she was in their living room watching TV and they would send her home when the movie was over. (yes, my dog).
Another time our dog stole another neighbors dogs rawhide bone. I thought my roommate gave it to him so I cut it in half because we had two dogs. Later the neighbors called and asked if Duke happen to have a rawhide bone. I had to fess up. They had given the bone to their dog to keep him busy while they were out for dinner. I told them that we'd take their dog for the night so he wasn't lonely. Later I made Duke carry a bone back to their dog.
In our current home our kids call our neighbors Auntie and Uncle which is kind of a cultural thing in Hawaii.
I have been lucky my whole life to have wonderful neighbors, whether for a decade in a mixed-income apartment building with 39 other families (seniors, New Americans, single-parent households, couples, everyone!), living during the pandemic amongst a small group of us in a quiet rural loop and trying to figure out how "friendly" we could be (see my post called "Rocky Drive" to read all about it!), or growing up on a busy street with a quieter neighborhood (and kids) behind.
Now, in our new home, I think we've hit the jackpot. Our next-door neighbors are so kind that our daughter begs for us to let her bring them flowers every night (buttercups and dandelions from the yard, which they ever-so-kindly accept with gusto). There are plenty of kids we are going to meet. I am so looking forward to spending many years surrounded by wonderful people.
I grew up in a typical middle America hometown. We had wonderful neighbors all around with lots of kids and lots of moms and dads who watched out for all of us. We know everyone!
After college I moved back to that hometown to work for the city. Again, it was a wonderful experience in a small town.
At age 30 I moved to Tulsa to begin a new career. I mostly lived downtown for over 20 years and spent my time in apartments. I never knew any of my neighbors then. I bought a house in one of Tulsa’s historic neighborhoods and enjoyed knowing a few of my neighbors.
Three years ago my wife and I moved to a 55+ neighborhood. We absolutely love it. We know so many of our neighbors! As a matter of fact, we can drive throughout the entire development and name the family in each house. We gather with many of them to do various activities. The activities range from swimming, Pickleball,
going out to lunch or dinner together, or happy hour. We do a lot of other things with our neighbors including short trips and going to movies.
Since we are all over age 55 and are all empty-nesters, we have a lot in common.
I wouldn’t change a single thing about this chapter of my life. It’s amazing to have these wonderful neighbors surrounding us each and every day.
I know some of my neighbors, casually. I should know their names, but my name memory isn't what it used to be. The neighborhood is great, a mix of old (me) and new. There is an older lady on one side who works her yard and plants tirelessly, but only waves. A mother and father and two teenagers on the other, I've known them before the kids were born. Across the street is a rental house where 3 or 4 lovely young single women live. They are all college graduates in their mid-twenties working their way into adulthood. Friendly. Next to them is a mid-thirties gal who inherited her father's oil business and seems to be doing well with it. We chat on the curb occasionally about her business or her horses. The other side is a new expensive house that a couple just moved into. We haven't met yet. I can't call all of them by name but, the neighborhood is diverse, fun, mid-town. We do know a few further away but fewer as distance increases. It was fun just to think of this. Thanks Jan.
Jul 8, 2022·edited Jul 8, 2022Liked by Jan Peppler, PhD
Everywhere I lived in California, I knew my neighbors on both sides of the street for a block. They were all wonderful. That was before I saw the light and was still Republican. We all had a big neighbor party on the eve of the presidential election. They made an apple pie that said Clinton. I was voting against them. We all stayed up half the night watching the results. They won, I lost. So what. They were lovely.
When I moved to the same small town in Idaho as Jan, I lived for 20 years on a small deadend street lined with houses where none of my neighbors would have a thing to do with me. It was a culture shock. The myth of the friendly small town is bullshit. The only Idaho neighbor who made eye contact and talked to me was the one who drove home drunk as I was walking down the deadend street and jumped out and started screaming drunken profanity at me, spitting in my face. But that is Idaho.
Now I live in Charlotte, NC an urban area of 2.5 million people, and once again I know my neighbors up and down the block, 1 block away, 2 blocks away. They have cookie parties, pool parties, let's all go out to dinner and drink wine parties. My horse gets sick and I have medicine but no syringe. A flock of people show up with syringes in every size and shape. And I am having to relearn how to BE a neighbor. I am in bed at 10pm, I get a call to help catch an injured snapping turtle to go to a rehabber. I am exhausted but I say yes. I get dressed and head out in the rain and dark. The lady who graciously let me keep my injured horse in her barn before our barn was built a year prior texts everyone at 9pm that her barn and property is flooded. Can people help her walk her four horses to the higher community barn on the hill. Yes, I will do that. BE a neighbor. I forgot that trick, but I am relearning. The next day I find homemade oat horse cookies in my mail box. Opposite coast from California. Same people. Neighbors.
Wonderful article, Jan. We had very quiet, well-behaved neighbors growing up -- I lived next to a funeral home. Our real neighbors though, were a tight knit group of family friends and their children that all lived within a few blocks of one another. They were so close we called them Aunt and Uncle, and still do to this day. As I got older, married and had children, we've moved a few times, and neighbors always made a big difference. Neighbors make a difference in whether or not a house can be a home because our yards, gardens, decks, etc., can all be places of sanctuary, and without neighbors who understand that it can make for very difficult living.
I live on a road in the Berkshires in western Massachusetts where the neighbors on either side of me are second homers. They both bought their houses recently and only surface in the late spring. People who only live here part-time are a different breed. They don't engage with the community. One of them recently had her lawyer call us because we were parking a few inches over the property line. It's dispiriting.
Neighbors are everything. We lived in NJ. 20 years ago on a block where every house (all built in 1920s) was 12 feet away from every other house. Sidewalks and porches. People from different backgrounds. When we first moved in, several new neighbors brought cookies to welcome us. But we didn’t really get to know each other for a couple years— and it was the kids who brought us together. Even the people who didn’t have kids or had grown kids did fun things with and for the kids and that was the excuse for the adults to get to know each other better, which led to dinners and block parties, and gatherings of all sorts. We lived there for 7 1/2 years.
Well, it’s been 20 years since then and I visited our old block last month. Called ahead to 2 neighbors and just walked up and knocked on the door of the third. It was amazing—like no time had passed…. except a big thing had happened: the kids were now grown up and gone. It seemed to make us more vulnerable with each other, because it was… just us. We went out for lunch. Talked about… where we were at, where we had been, about our uncertainty for our futures, a common theme. Three of us are now planning to get together in Vermont and Cape Cod.
.
More than anything, we all said we now know what we had was rare, and we took it for granted at the time. We now feel a tremendous sense of gratitude that we had each other, on that block that randomly brought us together, in that time….
Great neighborhoods are a gift but I also think we have lost the ability to create them. My parents were really gifted at being able to create community. They did by literally inviting people in. They walked down the street, knocked on doors, introduced themselves and invited people to a casual party. In his early 80’s my dad started a neighborhood poetry group where people read and discussed poems. I wish I could say that I learned from their example but I have never done anything like that. But I am not in my 80’s yet. Maybe it’s not too late to start.
I’m a student and have moved to various different houses with difference friends almost every year for the past 10 years. The only neighbor that I have ever gotten to know throughout those 10 years became one of my closest friends. He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I always thought to myself, what are the chances. Otherwise, I’ve never known a neighbor in my adult life.
The dogs were in CA. I think the kids called them Auntie and Uncle also.
Samoan actually. When I asked her if I could marry her daughter her mom said “when you marry the daughter you marry the family”. I said I’ve been calling you mom for years.
We probably wouldn’t use Aunti and Uncle if we were both from the mainland and lived there. In Hawaii all elders are Aunti and Uncle or Tutu.
Born as a third generation American of German Lutheran background, I experienced growing up with two different givens defining neighborhoods. Until grade five I viewed corn fields to south and east. To north and west a few homes of paternal relatives, cutting edge of urban chicagoans retiring to rural pre-suburbia. I was enrolled in the village Lutheran school. All my friends were from that group, averaging one friend every two blocks. We gathered, played baseball, occasionally interacted with other kids, but not too much. Grade five I finished at a Lutheran school in New Mexico. Same M.O.
Friends were limited to schoolmates. Neighborhood for my family meant our congregation. All socials
Reflected the church-year. In that world family life was defined as home, church and school. That world still exists. I prefer the revision that suggests gifting the new next-door folks with some fresh baked cookies and a smile. Home is really a movable feast, or perhaps just a movable feat.
As a child in the 60's, I would go out to play in the morning and come home during the day only for lunch and dinner; I had to be home for good by the time it got dark. I had several friends within a block of where I lived and we played all day together. Our next door neighbor was a nice older couple and I used to go over there daily as they would have cookies for me; she also made the best home tortillas that I would snack on. They had animals that I could play with and I can also remember sitting and watching TV. In my early teen years, I would go over there and use their telephone to call my boyfriend, that my parents wouldn't let me call. I have such great childhood memories of neighbors and friends and I drive through neighborhoods today, and I don't see any kids outside playing and I feel so sad for those kids. I know it's not considered safe anymore to let your kids play outside without supervision in a lot of communities, and I also know that a lot of kids are behind screens and don't want to play outside, but it is still sad. As an adult, I haven't had much good luck with neighbors. :(
Once I came home from work and I could not find one of our dogs. I finally called my neighbors and they said she was in their living room watching TV and they would send her home when the movie was over. (yes, my dog).
Another time our dog stole another neighbors dogs rawhide bone. I thought my roommate gave it to him so I cut it in half because we had two dogs. Later the neighbors called and asked if Duke happen to have a rawhide bone. I had to fess up. They had given the bone to their dog to keep him busy while they were out for dinner. I told them that we'd take their dog for the night so he wasn't lonely. Later I made Duke carry a bone back to their dog.
In our current home our kids call our neighbors Auntie and Uncle which is kind of a cultural thing in Hawaii.
I have been lucky my whole life to have wonderful neighbors, whether for a decade in a mixed-income apartment building with 39 other families (seniors, New Americans, single-parent households, couples, everyone!), living during the pandemic amongst a small group of us in a quiet rural loop and trying to figure out how "friendly" we could be (see my post called "Rocky Drive" to read all about it!), or growing up on a busy street with a quieter neighborhood (and kids) behind.
Now, in our new home, I think we've hit the jackpot. Our next-door neighbors are so kind that our daughter begs for us to let her bring them flowers every night (buttercups and dandelions from the yard, which they ever-so-kindly accept with gusto). There are plenty of kids we are going to meet. I am so looking forward to spending many years surrounded by wonderful people.
Jan,
I grew up in a typical middle America hometown. We had wonderful neighbors all around with lots of kids and lots of moms and dads who watched out for all of us. We know everyone!
After college I moved back to that hometown to work for the city. Again, it was a wonderful experience in a small town.
At age 30 I moved to Tulsa to begin a new career. I mostly lived downtown for over 20 years and spent my time in apartments. I never knew any of my neighbors then. I bought a house in one of Tulsa’s historic neighborhoods and enjoyed knowing a few of my neighbors.
Three years ago my wife and I moved to a 55+ neighborhood. We absolutely love it. We know so many of our neighbors! As a matter of fact, we can drive throughout the entire development and name the family in each house. We gather with many of them to do various activities. The activities range from swimming, Pickleball,
going out to lunch or dinner together, or happy hour. We do a lot of other things with our neighbors including short trips and going to movies.
Since we are all over age 55 and are all empty-nesters, we have a lot in common.
I wouldn’t change a single thing about this chapter of my life. It’s amazing to have these wonderful neighbors surrounding us each and every day.
Thank you for including me.
I know some of my neighbors, casually. I should know their names, but my name memory isn't what it used to be. The neighborhood is great, a mix of old (me) and new. There is an older lady on one side who works her yard and plants tirelessly, but only waves. A mother and father and two teenagers on the other, I've known them before the kids were born. Across the street is a rental house where 3 or 4 lovely young single women live. They are all college graduates in their mid-twenties working their way into adulthood. Friendly. Next to them is a mid-thirties gal who inherited her father's oil business and seems to be doing well with it. We chat on the curb occasionally about her business or her horses. The other side is a new expensive house that a couple just moved into. We haven't met yet. I can't call all of them by name but, the neighborhood is diverse, fun, mid-town. We do know a few further away but fewer as distance increases. It was fun just to think of this. Thanks Jan.
Everywhere I lived in California, I knew my neighbors on both sides of the street for a block. They were all wonderful. That was before I saw the light and was still Republican. We all had a big neighbor party on the eve of the presidential election. They made an apple pie that said Clinton. I was voting against them. We all stayed up half the night watching the results. They won, I lost. So what. They were lovely.
When I moved to the same small town in Idaho as Jan, I lived for 20 years on a small deadend street lined with houses where none of my neighbors would have a thing to do with me. It was a culture shock. The myth of the friendly small town is bullshit. The only Idaho neighbor who made eye contact and talked to me was the one who drove home drunk as I was walking down the deadend street and jumped out and started screaming drunken profanity at me, spitting in my face. But that is Idaho.
Now I live in Charlotte, NC an urban area of 2.5 million people, and once again I know my neighbors up and down the block, 1 block away, 2 blocks away. They have cookie parties, pool parties, let's all go out to dinner and drink wine parties. My horse gets sick and I have medicine but no syringe. A flock of people show up with syringes in every size and shape. And I am having to relearn how to BE a neighbor. I am in bed at 10pm, I get a call to help catch an injured snapping turtle to go to a rehabber. I am exhausted but I say yes. I get dressed and head out in the rain and dark. The lady who graciously let me keep my injured horse in her barn before our barn was built a year prior texts everyone at 9pm that her barn and property is flooded. Can people help her walk her four horses to the higher community barn on the hill. Yes, I will do that. BE a neighbor. I forgot that trick, but I am relearning. The next day I find homemade oat horse cookies in my mail box. Opposite coast from California. Same people. Neighbors.
Wonderful article, Jan. We had very quiet, well-behaved neighbors growing up -- I lived next to a funeral home. Our real neighbors though, were a tight knit group of family friends and their children that all lived within a few blocks of one another. They were so close we called them Aunt and Uncle, and still do to this day. As I got older, married and had children, we've moved a few times, and neighbors always made a big difference. Neighbors make a difference in whether or not a house can be a home because our yards, gardens, decks, etc., can all be places of sanctuary, and without neighbors who understand that it can make for very difficult living.
I live on a road in the Berkshires in western Massachusetts where the neighbors on either side of me are second homers. They both bought their houses recently and only surface in the late spring. People who only live here part-time are a different breed. They don't engage with the community. One of them recently had her lawyer call us because we were parking a few inches over the property line. It's dispiriting.
Neighbors are everything. We lived in NJ. 20 years ago on a block where every house (all built in 1920s) was 12 feet away from every other house. Sidewalks and porches. People from different backgrounds. When we first moved in, several new neighbors brought cookies to welcome us. But we didn’t really get to know each other for a couple years— and it was the kids who brought us together. Even the people who didn’t have kids or had grown kids did fun things with and for the kids and that was the excuse for the adults to get to know each other better, which led to dinners and block parties, and gatherings of all sorts. We lived there for 7 1/2 years.
Well, it’s been 20 years since then and I visited our old block last month. Called ahead to 2 neighbors and just walked up and knocked on the door of the third. It was amazing—like no time had passed…. except a big thing had happened: the kids were now grown up and gone. It seemed to make us more vulnerable with each other, because it was… just us. We went out for lunch. Talked about… where we were at, where we had been, about our uncertainty for our futures, a common theme. Three of us are now planning to get together in Vermont and Cape Cod.
.
More than anything, we all said we now know what we had was rare, and we took it for granted at the time. We now feel a tremendous sense of gratitude that we had each other, on that block that randomly brought us together, in that time….