by Sandra Lowen

Created on: September 20, 2009   Last Updated: January 20, 2010

GET YOUR NEIGHBORS TOGETHER

Somewhere deep in my memory banks is a recollection of friendly streets: returned 'hellos', homemade cookies, and help with deflated bicycle tires from the people on my block. We never locked our doors, and neighbors felt free to walk in at any time, announcing their arrival with a cheery WOO-hoo! Anybody home? No one ignored an anxious knock in the night or the silent cry for help of a neighbor who didn't appear for a couple of days.

Our latest neighborhood, six identical houses facing the backside of a school, looked pretty enough when we moved there, but the home dwellers only grunted, when I greeted them, if at all. I did my usual Christmas thing of purchasing a bottle of sparkling cider for each household, affixing a bow and a 'Happy Holidays from Your Neighbors at 165' card. In other neighborhoods, people would come over to thank us or at least drop a Thank You note in the mailbox. Here the bottles just disappeared off the porches. The woman in 163 picked hers up when I was standing on my porch. She read the card, looked at me with a baleful expression, and slammed her door without a word.

Last summer our neighbor on the right left us. He seemed a cheerful enough soul, who smiled and waved despite being homebound from a second heart attack. We'd chat briefly from our respective porches, but never visited. His wife always showed up, frowned and shooed him inside. One morning we woke up to the whine of sirens. That sunny man had committed suicide. The neighbor at 169 said he'd waved and she'd told him she'd see him tomorrow. He'd said, Maybe. Maybe not.

After his funeral, his widow moved away. A year later, the house still stands empty, a silent reminder of how much neighbors need each other.

Who killed the neighborhoods? Gangs, some say, or urban blight forced people off their porches and out of parks, where socialization happened in the past. Some blame the Manson Family, whose murderous home invasions led to locked doors and guard dogs even among those with little to protect. Drugs and the requirement for satiation no matter what struck fear in the hearts of the neighborhood evening strollers, who retreated to the safety of gymnasiums. Clearly and perhaps justifiably, we've lost trust in our neighbors.

Huddled together as the ambulance bearing our neighbor's body pulled off, though, our surviving neighbors vowed to never allow this kind of calamity to befall our street again. We came up with a plan:

If we see a neighbor's

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>