Tell me about your favorite neighbors.

Another thread made me think of the neighbors I've had over the years. Interesting people so I thought I'd share. I'd love to hear about yours.

Our first house was a tiny house on a tiny lot in an old neighborhood. The neighbors on both sides were great people. We were 20 when we moved in with a 1 yo son. Across the street was a church. 

To the left was a gay couple. John and Mark. Great guys living their best life. Both of them were in their late 50s. Mark was a retired manager from Radio City Music Hall in NY. John was a graphic artist. They had a full-on theater in their backyard where we would get together and watch movies. I helped them with building a pond and cutting trees out of their yard after hurricanes. They were both honorary uncles to my kids. My kids loved to sit by their pond and watch the fish. Mark has since passed away but we still stay in touch with John. They taught me more about homosexuality than anyone else in this world and they did it without a sign, shout, or protest. They did it by being good people who very obviously loved each other. 

On the right was Mr. Mueller. I never knew his first name. He was a very proper gentleman who was only slightly over 5' tall. He was always wearing cardigan sweaters, but he smoked cigars instead of a pipe. He was probably in his late 70s when we moved in and passed away before we moved 25 years later. I'm not sure he remembered how old he was. Retire from the Army and retired again from USPS. He didn't have a car and couldn't drive. His pastimes were reading and music. His son was a trifling individual so Mr. Mueller would come to the house and knock on the door with his cane when he needed help and couldn't get his son to come over. I would haul him to the bank or the drug store to buy cigars and mow his yard when his son forgot. He was deaf as a post but loved to listen to music. Crutchfield was his favorite store and he was always buying equipment. Late in the afternoon, you would hear classical and big band music from one end of the street to the other. Granted it was a short street. He would call me to come over and help him move it in the house and set it up and when I was done he'd tell me to take the old stuff with me when I left. Over the years he gave me some really nice stereo equipment. I still have a set of Acoustic Research speakers and a Yamaha receiver. He didn't want to deal with it so it needed to go. He spent most of his life sitting in an easy chair in front of a huge set of speakers puffing on cigars. I'm 100% certain he slept in the chair as well. He would come out of the house to talk with cigar holes burned in his sweater and dust on his bald head. He'd tell stories until he was tired and go back to listen to his music. It's a miracle he never burned the house down. 

In the grand scheme of things, these people were necessarily significant to my life but I remember them fondly. I guess that makes them significant, doesn't it? 

Contrast that to my current neighbors. We've been in this house for 15 years. My wife knows their names but I don't. We've invited them to oyster roasts and such but they aren't interested so we wave in passing but don't talk. The one on the right borrows tools on occasion to work on his dune buggy. I do know he works for a church as a youth minister. The one on the left mows a quarter of my front yard because he doesn't know where the property line is. He's retired from up north somewhere. In 30 years, I'm not sure I'll remember them. The contrast between one neighborhood and the other is interesting. Then again, I don't like people as much as I used to. That may have something to do with it. 

And I just realized, in 30 years I'll be 86. I may not remember anything. I sure hope some kid will come over and help me with my sound system. 

I couldn't even tell you any of our neighbors' names except the older lady immediately to the right of our house.  There are at least 11 houses within 100 yards of my front door.

We've lived here for 31 years.

My favorite neighbors are the ones with quiet dogs and who don't smoke outside or play music I can hear.

All my neighbors but a few have been like a ways away. Even then, they haven't really cared for what I've done or doing at the time.

In reply to Duke :

Hands down it was Van.

Van was an old hot rodder who worked at a steel mill. His garage was a magical place where anything was possible. Any time he was working on his truck or hot rods, I was over there. He showed me how to work sheetmetal with a torch, how to slap lead, and the proper way to build a hot rod. Most of the time I just watched, but sometimes he'd let me have a go with the tools. I had my own cars and plenty of tools, but his expertise was earned through decades of experience. In a lot of ways he was my stand-in Grandpa because both mine had died by then. He and his wife Fern were straight from the "middle America grandparents" central casting. Both old school, he handled everything outside the house and she handled everything inside. They moved away when I was in my late teens, but for roughly 10 years I was his sidekick nearly every day.

We have terrific neighbors. They’re kind, caring, love cars (and dogs) and have similar worldwide views. 

I have awesome neighbors.  At least 8 couples within sight of my house.  They're all my age with kids of similar age.  We pretty much hang out with other and don't have to leave the 'hood to have an awesome time - or at least 4-5 months out of the year when the weather is decent.  We're  usually in someone's garage while 90's music plays in the background and our kids' run amuck.  It's another thing that keeps us here - as much as I complain about the weather. 

The kids are often outside playing on our quiet, dead end street.  Some of our neighbors have left saying "we don't like the direction the neighborhood is going." which is them being giant turds by essentially saying they don't like kids playing outside since their kids are now raised and moved away.  Good riddance you old farts.  Some other neighbors give us eat E36 M3 looks because the kids are riding bikes in the street and they then refuse to go less than 50mph as they pass our kids on the side of the street.  But that's rare - most love that the neighborhood has turned over and has new life. 

We have some neighbors down the street that throw parties about once a month to get folks to come on over and help them drink the 2 5 gallon batches of allgrain homebrew they make. It's all been professional pub grade. So we have that going for us!

The opposite side of the coin of not knowing any neighbors, my wife and my first house we bought was in semi-urban Del Ray section of Alexandria City outside DC. Tight street (physically), street parking, mostly duplexes and bungalows from the 30's and 40's and a complete mix of the melting pot of America in race, age, and finances. Teachers, federal workers, young FBI agent (we think), long-time residence grandmothers, etc. If someone was out with a kid/pet/drink on a Friday night, it turned into an informal gathering. Everyone shoveled Miss Enola's walk when it snowed. My son's first word was the name of neighbor's dog that he blurted out one night... At the time I had a rusty, round tail light BMW 2002 and if I raised the hood, it was like a scene from King of the the Hill and everyone would show up to supervise. 

We moved to suburbia after our second kid was born but we look upon those days fondly... Of course every couple of years I check the house prices in the neighborhood and I spit-take at the prices now and curse myself for not selling an organ to find a way to keep our half of the duplex as an investment property. 

Dave. The Pot growing, drug dealing, total hardcase criminal but actually an absolute softie. Had Polio as a kid and was pretty disabled by it. One of those dudes who would drill holes in pennies because washers cost 3 cents. Lots of fun until he started mixing his drugs and would keep running down the stairs to see if the aliens he saw in the CCTV system he had were still outside. 6AM? midnight? any time ever? there was always a whiskey on the rocks in his one good hand. He built an illegal balcony on the roof of the 2.5 story Victorian house we shared and one night fell off of it onto the concrete steps to our patio. His BAC at the time was .35%. Didn't survive the fall. 

Malcom. One of those "most interesting guys in the world" characters. Was a Navy pilot, became a commercial pilot in the 80's and did a lot of globetrotting until that got boring so he started running the SWAT team until that got too boring so he started doing helicopter tours when he wasn't running the show for the helicopters fighting forest fires in Oregon. Super handsome confirmed bachelor, a different ladyfriend every week. I helped him with some of his small aircraft occasionally. He sold his house a few years back. Hope he is doing well.

Seven. Retired machinist I nickamed after the amount of digits he had remaining on his hands. Just a nice old dude. Lost him to covid the first year of it. 

In reply to AngryCorvair (Forum Supporter) :

And growing up, we were extremely close with the neighbors–both next door and down the street. Everyone’s since moved away, but the moms are all still in touch. 

You already know him.

Trent said:

Dave. The Pot growing, drug dealing, total hardcase criminal but actually an absolute softie. Had Polio as a kid and was pretty disabled by it. One of those dudes who would drill holes in pennies because washers cost 3 cents. Lots of fun until he started mixing his drugs and would keep running down the stairs to see if the aliens he saw in the CCTV system he had were still outside. 6AM? midnight? any time ever? there was always a whiskey on the rocks in his one good hand. He built an illegal balcony on the roof of the 2.5 story Victorian house we shared and one night fell off of it onto the concrete steps to our patio. His BAC at the time was .35%. Didn't survive the fall. 

 

Malcom. One of those "most interesting guys in the world" characters. Was a Navy pilot, became a commercial pilot in the 80's and did a lot of globetrotting until that got boring so he started running the SWAT team until that got too boring so he started doing helicopter tours when he wasn't running the show for the helicopters fighting forest fires in Oregon. Super handsome confirmed bachelor, a different ladyfriend every week. I helped him with some of his small aircraft occasionally. He sold his house a few years back. Hope he is doing well.

 

Seven. Retired machinist I nickamed after the amount of digits he had remaining on his hands. Just a nice old dude. Lost him to covid the first year of it. 

can't help to be reminded of the great albums of the 90s and this song from +live+

There's a family across the street that's a practicing Muslim that goes OUT OF HIS WAY to get me a Christmas card (with Jesus on it) and he brings me gifts from his trips to visit his family in Jerusalem (small manger carved out of olive wood, pistachios)

Once I went over to tell him I appreciate his family and he told me he loves my family. That was a special day for us. 

Funny part is I had to teach him how to properly shovel the snow off his driveway (don't start at the outside edges first).

He's the nicest guy compared to all the people around me that grew up in the SW Chicago suburbs.

Growing up, there was an old couple that lived next door. I don't know what he did for a living but he traveled the world and had a massive collection of sea shells. Shelves and boxes of them all over the house. I was probably 10 at the time. I'd help with yard work and he'd pay me $10 and give me a shell. I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. 

The guy down the street was an airline pilot and drove a murdered out Saab 900 Turbo. I thought that was the coolest car in the world. He was a bit of a dick though. 

Growing up we had neighbors on either side, but never really talked to them. Totally different places in life/age also. diagonal across the street and back in the woods was a family with kids our age, horses, a pool (eventually), cool cars, and cable TV. Those were great neighbors, sharing rides, watching their livestock, helping with the work. 
 

my first home I bought had a Steve neighbor on each side. Great guys, much older than me, perfectly nice. I ended up teaching the son of one; and that was good. House across the street constantly had police, and seemed to have regular traffic for micro transactions. 
 

Our current home is in a neighborhood with lots of great people, but until 2 years ago rentals on either side of us (rentals are very rare in these 400 homes). 4 houses down though has produced my 2 best friends, one of who still lives there and introduced me to GRM. It's a magic house!

In reply to bbbbRASS :

I've been in your neighborhood.  It's great except for that guy on the corner.

There was a time when n-o-b-o-d-y on my street would talk to me, wave, or even make eye contact.

They were all best friends of my next door neighbor, who was like the schoolyard bully, and I wasn't part of his "in" crowd.

Excitingly, I wasn't interested in being "bullied" into submission, and being Scottish, German, and on the spectrum, I could lean into a hefty amount of stubborn.  Eventually I broke him and he moved.

He used to bad-mouth the former owner of my place back when we were on speaking terms. The son of the former owner bought his house, so I got to meet the guy.

"I see you tore down my old shed" he says, as I was building a big shop in the back. "I used to store my '32 Ford in there."

"I used to store my Lotus Super 7 replica in there" says I.

"Yeah? I restored a '59 MGA in the house garage."

"I have my V8 Pontiac Firefly in the house garage!" I'm beginning to see why Old Man Miserable hated me.

"What year is your truck?" he asks - this was back when I had the squarebody.

"'77"

"I got a '73. Tucked the bumpers in a bit more; give it a cleaner look."

Old Man Miserable hated me - because I was a more stubborn version of the man he drove out.

The rest of the neighbours have changed too - they all talk to me now.  It's nice.

My wife and I really miss Charley.  He was diagonally across the street from us and had built his house from a kit back in the late 50's.  Pretty much did everything himself if he could.  He was probably in his late 70's when I first met him and painfully shy at first.  I had helped out with clearing the end of his driveway with my snowblower after a big snowstorm and chatted with him a bit.  He mentioned that his wife wasn't well and he'd been worried that the ambulance wouldn't be able to get in if she needed help.  I was still a kid, maybe 30 and made a note to myself.  Wore out that snowblower and put plenty of hours on the replacement making sure he wouldn't ever worry about that again.

We spent a lot of time checking in on him in on him in his later years.  Sometimes chatting about his old cars and motorcycles, sometimes helping him do jigsaw puzzles.  He shared his "Big Adventure" motorcycle trip around the US in 1953 with us, he'd sent his pictures and notes from the trip into the Harley Davidson owners magazine who published it in 1955.  Badass did around 15,000 miles on a Harley with a fairing, saddle bags and a tank shifter by himself.  Hit many of the national parks as well as Pikes Peak.  I scanned all the pages to be sure it didn't disappear and posted it here on the motorcycle forum after he passed in the fall of 2019. 

He made it to almost 96 and was still as sharp as ever right to the end.   He told his family to make sure some of his tools made it my way and I've been adding some of them to the NYG boxes the past couple of years.  I like to think I'm sending him on another road trip in a way.  He was a good old guy, the type that they just don't seem to make anymore and we really miss him.

In reply to 11GTCS :

Great story dude.  I think you posted some of that trip before, right?

In reply to 11GTCS :

I remember you telling that story a while back. Still just as awesome.

Stampie said:

In reply to bbbbRASS :

I've been in your neighborhood.  It's great except for that guy on the corner.

Too true, he brings all kinds of riffraff around! Luckily, his wife and kids (and PX-8) make up for that. 

I had awesome neighbors growing up. Currently I am very content with my neighbors. Finally got the idiot deadbeat out of the house across the street. 5 houses down across the street lives a guy who works on his yellow Porsche 944 and green 90's Dodge Dakota. He'd fit in here I'm sure.

In reply to Datsun240ZGuy :

Yeah, I think I called it Charlies Big Adventure but it's deep down in the motorcycle forum at this point, I just tried to search and link it but didn't have any luck.  

He was a simple guy that worked hard and while he never had a lot he always had enough.  He kept a decent sized vegetable garden in his back yard into his late 80's, when he'd try to give me something for doing the driveway I'd tell him to remember us when the garden was coming in.  He always did.  We both really miss visiting with him, he was great to talk with.