Good Neighbors Make Her Street Feel More Like Home
A local historian, a burglary stopper and the world’s greatest grandparents have enriched this writer’s life
These days it can feel difficult to find enough time for our loved ones and closest friends — so if adding neighbors to the list of people to fit into your life sounds like a burden, I wouldn’t be surprised. And yet, I’m so grateful for my neighbors. As I look up and down my street, I see houses, to be sure, but I also see people I have known for about eight years.
We have several young families on our street, a few single elders, some couples without kids (including us) and not one, but two sets of twins. Getting to know these people has been a source of both help and joy. Together, we’ve made our street a community rather than merely a collection of homes. Here are some stories of how this happened over the years.
We have several young families on our street, a few single elders, some couples without kids (including us) and not one, but two sets of twins. Getting to know these people has been a source of both help and joy. Together, we’ve made our street a community rather than merely a collection of homes. Here are some stories of how this happened over the years.
Barry and Kathy, world’s greatest grandparents. When we moved into the neighborhood, Barry and Kathy were winding up their careers and getting ready to enjoy a relaxing retirement. Due to a series of challenging events, they found themselves parenting twin baby girls instead.
The girls are now 4 years old and as cute as can be. Always dressed identically but clearly having very distinct personalities, they crack us up with their funny phrases and observations. Whenever the girls see me without my husband, they ask where my dad is. Of course, I think this is hysterical, while my husband … not so much.
If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes two to raise twins. So the neighbors have pitched in where we can to take the girls to preschool, babysit occasionally and provide an extra set of eyes while Grandma or Grandpa runs into the house to grab a forgotten something. Now that my sister is pregnant with twins, this experience will be put to good use.
Cathy, the mystery gifter. Then there is Cathy who, when she moved out of her place next door, dumped two huge garbage bags over our fence. At first this seemed incredibly rude — until we realized that the bags were full of fabric. Cathy, whose fabric stash had exceeded her ability to turn out sewing projects, later had the opportunity to explain that she knew I sewed and decided to share her wealth with me. There were a few really cool vintage textiles in those bags that I am hoping to turn into some groovy threads one day.
Inge, our fairy pastry-mother. Inge lived across the street from us when we first moved here. We met her when she came by to pick up misdelivered mail intended for the previous owner.
We learned that Inge and her husband had moved to Canada from Munich just after World War II and shortly thereafter into the home on our street where she had lived ever since. She made all kinds of wonderful German baked goods for us, explaining that she used to make them for her late husband and just couldn’t stop baking. She made it sound as if we were doing her a big favor by accepting her scrumptious goodies.
After a couple of years of receiving a special plum cake (Pflaumenkuchen) baked by Inge, I asked her if she would show me how to make it. One day she called me on the phone and said it was time. I dropped everything, grabbed an apron and ran across the street. When she passed away suddenly two years ago, Inge’s family gave me her Pflaumkuchen pan.
Inge’s memorial was held at her favorite pizza parlor. All the neighbors showed up and, though it was a solemn occasion, we had a very enjoyable meal together. We discussed the people who had come and gone from our street and exchanged contact information so that we could reach one another more easily in the future. What a gift Inge gave us all as she said goodbye.
Your turn: Who are the people in your neighborhood? Please tell us about them in the Comments. We’d love to hear your stories of how they build your community.
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The girls are now 4 years old and as cute as can be. Always dressed identically but clearly having very distinct personalities, they crack us up with their funny phrases and observations. Whenever the girls see me without my husband, they ask where my dad is. Of course, I think this is hysterical, while my husband … not so much.
If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes two to raise twins. So the neighbors have pitched in where we can to take the girls to preschool, babysit occasionally and provide an extra set of eyes while Grandma or Grandpa runs into the house to grab a forgotten something. Now that my sister is pregnant with twins, this experience will be put to good use.
Cathy, the mystery gifter. Then there is Cathy who, when she moved out of her place next door, dumped two huge garbage bags over our fence. At first this seemed incredibly rude — until we realized that the bags were full of fabric. Cathy, whose fabric stash had exceeded her ability to turn out sewing projects, later had the opportunity to explain that she knew I sewed and decided to share her wealth with me. There were a few really cool vintage textiles in those bags that I am hoping to turn into some groovy threads one day.
Inge, our fairy pastry-mother. Inge lived across the street from us when we first moved here. We met her when she came by to pick up misdelivered mail intended for the previous owner.
We learned that Inge and her husband had moved to Canada from Munich just after World War II and shortly thereafter into the home on our street where she had lived ever since. She made all kinds of wonderful German baked goods for us, explaining that she used to make them for her late husband and just couldn’t stop baking. She made it sound as if we were doing her a big favor by accepting her scrumptious goodies.
After a couple of years of receiving a special plum cake (Pflaumenkuchen) baked by Inge, I asked her if she would show me how to make it. One day she called me on the phone and said it was time. I dropped everything, grabbed an apron and ran across the street. When she passed away suddenly two years ago, Inge’s family gave me her Pflaumkuchen pan.
Inge’s memorial was held at her favorite pizza parlor. All the neighbors showed up and, though it was a solemn occasion, we had a very enjoyable meal together. We discussed the people who had come and gone from our street and exchanged contact information so that we could reach one another more easily in the future. What a gift Inge gave us all as she said goodbye.
Your turn: Who are the people in your neighborhood? Please tell us about them in the Comments. We’d love to hear your stories of how they build your community.
More
Discover the Joy of Welcoming New Neighbors
How to Help Your Dog Be a Good Neighbor
Richard, the town historian. Now a retired general contractor, Richard grew up in this neighborhood and has lived in our city all his life. He attended the elementary school around the corner from us, and he remembers going to a friend’s house up the street to swim during lunch recess on hotter days. He also recalls the creek that runs through town the way it did before it was channelized by the Army Corps back in the 1950s. He remembers fondly the tadpoles and minnows he and the other neighborhood kids used to find in the creek and how they used the creek as a fun shortcut through town.
Today the creek is fenced off and contains no perceptible life, save for some rather unappealing algae. As our nearby park undergoes a redesign and upgrade, Richard’s stories prompted me to ask the planning commissioners to consider restoring the creek where it runs under the park. I am hoping they take the idea seriously.
Kyle and Jeni, the industrious duo. Jeni and Kyle live on the street parallel to ours right behind our house. We met them before we had even made an offer on our place, the day we were touring homes with our real estate agent. While we were discussing tearing out the carpet and updating the kitchen, a young couple came to the door and asked if we intended to buy the house. Taken aback a little, we responded with the truth, which was that we were looking at roughly a dozen homes that weekend and had no idea which, if any, we would select. Jeni explained that the section of the fence the two properties shared was falling down and that they would like to fix it right away.
It turned out we did buy that house, and we did take on the fence project first thing. The four of us decided to hire Jeni’s brothers to do the work, and we briefly discussed putting in a gate so we could easily go to each other’s houses without having to walk around the block.
We have lived near Jeni and Kyle now for almost eight years, and we’ve done plenty of hollering over the fence, borrowing tools and passing bags of fruit back and forth. When their baby girl was born a few months ago, Jeni held her up to a knothole in the fence, so my husband could see her. It’s time to replace the entire fence now, and we just may put in that gate after all.
Kelli, the wonder woman. When my husband and I moved into our current home, the family across the street made an immediate impression. At that time, they had a 16-year-old daughter, a 6-year-old girl and a 6-month-old baby boy. Today their older daughter has graduated from college, their younger daughter is finishing junior high, and their son now skateboards up and down the street, sporting a bleached faux-hawk. Kelli, the mom, deserves a ton of credit for managing to raise this spread-out brood. What we appreciate most about her, though, is the keen eye and quick action she demonstrated a few years ago when she single-handedly stopped a team of burglars from entering our home.
As she told it to us, she noticed an unfamiliar young man standing in the middle of the street at the end of our block, talking on a cellphone. She thought this was odd and decided to call the police. Shrewdly, she did this within view of the young man, so he would know he was being watched. The next thing she knew, two more teens ran out our side gate and down the street.
By the time the police arrived, the would-be burglars were nowhere to be found. However, the evidence they left behind gave a good indication of what would have happened had Kelli not acted quickly on her sharp instincts. A dirty footprint marred our back door, and the screen on our bedroom window had been pried off on one side.
Having suffered a burglary in the past, I know all too well how violated and unsafe we would have felt had the burglars succeeded in entering our home. Kelli will always be my neighborhood heroine.