Don't you know your neighbor....?

I have lived in my home for 12 plus years. I grew up in Somervell County, attended Glen Rose Schools. Of course, time changes things. People and communities evolve. New people come and older folks go.

It is ironic to me, having lived here the majority of my life, how few people I know now. I bought the house that my grandparents lived in, I spent summers here, I swam in the river, I even remember my brother and I swimming in the river and Mrs. Lilly's cows stampeding back across the river for chow time and we had to jump the fence to get out of the way. But back then, I knew all my grandparents neighbors by their first and last names. I had the pleasure of knowing Ora Lee and Luba LeBouf, Hattie and Cub Miller, Billy Miller (not a close neighbor, but one of the few that is left on this road from the "olden days"). I knew Monte and Anthony Cheek, I even remember when Roseanne was my neighbor in the now abandoned mobile home park that the LeBouf's used to have.

When I was a kid, my aunts and uncles and cousins, and my family would visit my grandparents and most of the time parked in the LeBouf's circle drive. When my grandparents passed away, the LeBouf's were there, when they passed away, we were there. There aren't many folks left that I know. Dallas's parents still live down the road, but I noticed their home for sale not too long ago. Hattie and Cub have passed too. The Cheek home is still there and I believe Mr. Cheek still resides there, though I hardly ever see him.

The LeBouf home is still owned by family, which leads me to my story of the day.

I've had the same appliances in my home since I bought it, which means that my refrigerator was likely 30 or 40 years old. My oven not far behind it, considering the last time the element burned out in it, we got the last one anywhere on the planet. It was time to replace them and part of what was left of my grandparents was taking a final departure. Albeit time for them to go.

The new appliances were being delivered and just like when I was a kid, we had the truck pull in to the circle drive of our neighbors (The LeBouf's home), getting them as close to their final destination as possible. We got the refrigerator in to the house, everything inspected, and as I headed out to sign the papers for them, there stood a man I did not know in the circle drive. I smiled and waved and said, "I'm sorry, just borrowing your circle drive for a moment" (literally it took all of about 15 minutes to unload the four boxes and get them all in to the house). He looked at me, anger in his eyes and said, "Uh huh, you should've asked first". Of course, I apologized, put out my hand, gave my name and waited. He said, "Don't you know your neighbors?" sarcastically and with much annoyance. I smiled again and said, "I knew Ora Lee and Luba very well". He said, "Dr. LeBouf owns this house". I said, "I know him too" (mind you, he is none of these fine folks). A quick side note, I also knew the last folks that lived in that house and I've even made polite conversation with the maintenance fellow that lives in the RV Camper parked next to the LeBouf house.

He stood there a moment, beer in hand, and said, "Oh you mean the old guy that used to own the house". I politely said, "Yes, they and my grandparents were neighbors for decades. I bought my grandparents home and have known them (the LeBouf's) my entire life." Again, I stuck my hand out, and said, "and you are?" No name (but I am supposed to "know my neighbors?"). I said, "So which of the girl's are you married to?", see Luba and Ora Lee had one son, Dr. LeBouf and he had five daughters. This guy had to be married to one of them.

He calmed down, eventually and told me that he and his wife, Theresa, were visiting. They were currently living on their sail boat and traveling around the world. Interesting enough, I thanked him again for the use of the drive and apologized for not asking first, and watched him walk back to the house, but it brought me pause and a little sadness to realize that there are so few people on my street that I know. The ones I do know, I have not had a good experience with (I'm talking about the new folks - not the old ones). But it is sad, the experiences that I've had. One neighbor, a Fort Worth transplant, told me that my kids couldn't get out of the water on "his side of the river" and another watched an accident happen right in front of my house, witnessed the entire thing, and refused to help.

The good folks that I know, Billy Miller and Mr. Cheek, if I was in need that is probably where I would go. There are a couple more whose names I am forgetting (probably due to old age). But I tell you what, I miss the days when I "knew my neighbors". I miss Westley and his folks, cause they were the greatest neighbors to have - reminded me so much of the LeBouf's. They moved and it just hasn't been the same.

Today, I've got one new neighbor, he's been over several times to talk shop with the hubs. He said he's visited everyone around him, but we're the only ones interested in getting to know him. Makes you stop and wonder doesn't it? Or perhaps it's just me, remembering fondly sitting at Hattie's and Cub's while she gave me jam on crackers or attending Susan's wedding the gazebo in the valley, or listening to LeRoy Gibson, Buck Bridewell, Lefty O'Neal (and others) play music with my grandfather in the living room of what is now, my home... yes, maybe it is just me remembering what it was like to "know my neighbors"... and missing them.