Meeting the Neighbors

I am a city girl, born and raised in the suburbs of Charlotte. When I was growing up, I thought it was a novelty to go to school with any blood relative. My Greek friend and her cousin were both at my elementary school and I thought that was SO COOL! My own cousins lived far away. :(

LeGrande, on the other hand, was raised in a rural area, where we now live. He rode to the same school with his cousins, who lived next door...and since they all lived on farms and the only available vehicle for them to make the 2 mile jaunt to school in was a dump truck, that was their ride!

Whenever we ride around our neighborhood, LeGrande points out all of the connections-mostly familial, amongst the people who live near us. It goes something like this..."Mrs. Smith lives there, but she used to be an Apple. Her husband's people own this land and his parents live next door. Her parents live over on the other road and her sister, who used to be an Apple but is now a Turner, live beside of them. Their two kids live across the road in the house that belonged to his mother's cousin's father's" Aughhh!...and I guess you get the picture! I will NEVER get all of these connections!

After nearly 3 years of marriage, I am still fairly new in terms of getting to know our neighbors (and when I say neighbors, I mean the families who live at least 1/4 miles from us...they are the closest.) I am still an outsider, despite the fact that I married a local. Last night, I had a rather interesting experience...one that can only happen in a community such as ours, and it took me one step closer to becoming a "local".

I was driving home from school at 8pm...rather late because we'd had a parent meeting. About a 1/2 mile before my road, I noticed some headlights and a young woman frantically waving on the roadside. I stopped and realized her car was on it's side in the soggy, freshly plowed field. Miraculously, she was fine...and she had not had a seat belt on. We walked to my car where I asked her if I could help her call her parents. "My stepmother lives down this road in the white farmhouse, she said." "Oh, I know them-they live across the street from me!", I said, marvelling over this connection. We were not able to reach them via phone, but I called LeGrande who drove to their house to knock on the door and alert them to the accident. He did, and her stepmother was on the way.

In the meantime, person after person kept stopping to help us. Most of them were Apples, members of the large extended family who live near us. "You are on Apple land", an enthusiastic Apple rescuer said as he pointed to various residences..."That's where I live, my mom lives there, my uncle lives, there, my other uncle lives there, and my grandma lives here." Whew! Apple after Apple stopped and one D. Apple mentioned that the motor was not "doing any good" running while the car was tipped on it's side (like we 2 girls were really going to straighten it!)

Another car stopped and the driver rolled down her window. "Everything okay?" she asked. Confident that things were fine, she asked, "Who's your insurance with?" The victim replied that it was Farm Bureau and the woman said, "Who's your agent...John Doe?" "Yes, actually, it is," replied the victim. "Well, that is my husband," replied the driver. "I'll call him now. We just live one street over." She parked and got out. Geez, I thought...this is a SMALL world!

D. Apple mentioned again that nothing good was happening to the car's motor while it was tipped on it's side. Again, none of us listened. I was starting to smell gas...no one wanted to touch the car.

The insurance agent, the stepmother (my neighbor), and more Apples came by...by now our little group of good Samaritans had turned into a huge band of blood-related, multi-connected neighborly helpers who were arguing over which mechanic/wrecker to call. In the city, this would not be a difficult decision, but in this rural community, you call the good ole boy who is probably related to you some way or another, and if you choose someone else, you will probably offend them and all their kin...and God knows what will happen if you do that!

"That motor is gonna go bad, sitting there on it's side...just listen to it", said D. Apple, for at least the fifteenth time. Finally, his kinfolk listened.

The Apple clan sprang into action, righted the car and rolled it off the road. The mechanic was dispatched and the state troopers on their way. One man who was carrying a light stopped to chat and when he identified himself as H. Apple, I realized he was the husband of the secretary at my school...ANOTHER connection! We introduced ourselves and it turns out that he graduated with my father-in-law and knows him well...go figure. "You work with my mom?", asked the insurance agent. "Well, I'm her daughter and H. Apple is my dad (they were or are all Apples too) and my sister also works at your school. We live just over there at the strawberry farm."

By now, talk had turned from the poor accident victim and her car to farming and how H.'s pick-your-own strawberry farm was in preparation for the upcoming season..."When we gonna see some berries, H?", asked the others? "I'm getting hungry for some ripe ones." "May, May", H. replied..."I'll see ya'll in May."

I guess so...I'll see ya'll in May while we're all in the Apple strawberry field picking our baskets of berries, watered by the same neighborly rains that water my own garden. And until then, if I have an automotive accident, I can rest assured that I'll have a gang of neighbors to come help...