Neighbors

 

Neighbors

Many decades ago, when this neighborhood was still under construction; the existing houses having been rapidly occupied, and new homes being built, that this was not an especially friendly neighborhood. We were all new to each other, and we were hesitant to ask the kinds of questions that would lead to real familiarity.

But all of that changed when Sam Harvey moved in. He has that kind of natural outgoing personality that makes him eager to meet new people. And so, he became a kind of one man welcoming committee. If the family moving in were not using professional movers, Sam would go and offer to help move the furniture into the house. He would introduce himself, and tell the new neighbors a few relevant facts about the existing neighbors. Then, when the opportunity arose, he would introduce them to each other.

Some of the newcomers picked up immediately on Sam's friendliness, being happy to have a contact in their new environment. Others chose to remain aloof, but Sam never gave up. When the newcomer would drive past him, he would always wave, and if they were both outdoors working, and happen to catch each other's eye, Sam would always wave. And occasionally, one of these aloof personalities would eventually melt.

I have already written about a few of our interesting neighbors in the posts on “Pets” and on “Blasting Away in Tidewater”. Here, I want take a more general look at the neighborhood. My attitude toward it has changed radically over the years. On warm summer afternoons I would sit on a lawn chair in the front yard and translate German stories. I looked on neighborhood noises as a distraction, and I found the screaming chatter of the children especially annoying. But all of that changed over the years, and the children's yelling became music to my ears. During those times when there were no children nearby, I missed the sounds of their playing and hoped that soon more families with children would come.

I tried to talk to the neighbors more often and, encouraged by Sam, we began to have family chats instead of the previous man only and woman only talks. We actually had a few get-togethers, involving several families for lunch at a restaurant.

The ethnic makeup of the neighborhood is interesting. Over the years we have always had at least one black couple, and several mixed couples: White-Black, Hispanic-White, Filipino-White, South Korean-Caucasian, Hispanic-Black. We have a family from India, and a couple from Myanmar. They both speak English, and they were among the fortunate few who were allowed to leave before the Military Regime crackdown. They are very friendly, and they show up at our front door every couple of weeks with homemade samples of their cooking. Their faces express the embodiment of gentleness and kindness. It is part of their permanent character.

Nowadays, as I have grown older and more dependent on the neighbors, it is nice to sit out front and have a neighbor occasionally drop by for a chat. We sit in the lawn chairs and tell each other anecdotes. Also, as I grow older, I am becoming even more dependent on them. Several times heavy limbs have blow down, and a couple of friends would soon show up and, with a saw and axes, soon clear the mess away. This work is always performed gladly, and with a sense of humor.

An outstanding example of this kind of kindness and concern is the most recent one. One evening, Dottie and I found ourselves lost is in Virginia Beach. By the time we got home at midnight, we had been rear-ended, with damage to both the front and back of the car. But it was still driveable.

Our eyes met a strange sight when we finally turned onto our street. Half of the block was crowded with cars, many of the same design. At first, I thought that someone was having a late party. But the lights were not on in the houses. Then I noticed that the lights were on in our house. Also, I noticed that many people were standing in the street, none of whom I recognized because of the darkness. They were all wearing yellow glow-in-the-dark sashes. After we pulled into the driveway and climbed out of the car, several of them rushed to help us. I felt a hand on my back. I turned, and saw that it was my next door neighbor from Myanmar. His face shown with the light that is the embodiment of kindness and concern. He held my arm as I limped into the house. Again I was surprised. As the warm evening had cooled by the darkness, some of the women had come into the house. I recognized Denise, Sam's wife. Also there was Will's girl, and the wife of my friend from Myanmar.

Sam had become concerned when he noticed that we had not turned the porch light on - our signal that we had retired for the night. That time was very consistently 8:45, but by 10:00 it was still not on, and the car was still missing. He called my daughter who lives in Pennsylvania, but she was also bewildered. Then he called the police, but the were not able to help, because we were still at Fort Hood in Virginia Beach, getting instructions on how to get to Interstate 64. It was midnight when we finally got home, and well after midnight when we finally fell asleep.

This event is just an example of the kind of neighbors and neighborhood that surround us. I doubt that there is another in this nation that could match it.

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