By T.J. Ray

Columnist

 

“Neah gebur” is the Anglo-Saxon origin of “neighborhood.”  It meant “nigh dweller.”  Time has overlaid that simple idea with open doors, smiling folks, and togetherness.

It was 1974— the year we moved to Deer Run.  It was listed as a subdivision, but in reality it was only  a few scattered houses and some asphalt.  It began at Campground Road and ended near the section line.  At first no one lived on the connecting street, though two lots lay cleared for many years—one still does!

In early years the only movement on the streets was cars, with a few (including mine!) going much too fast up and down the streets.  In time, perhaps as I began to connect names with mailboxes, my foot eased off the accelerator.  Over time folks began to walk the streets, an exercise that led in time to meeting folks along the way.

For the most part, Deer Run remained a subdivision.  I, for instance, lived next to someone whose house I was never in for almost 25 years!  My only contact with another nearby resident was limited to picking up his stray golf balls in my yard.  Whatever kids were out here didn’t spend much time together.  My boy’s best friend lived at the other end of Campground Road.

The times, they are a-changing!  That should read “have been changing.”  Folks walking dogs have made the turnaround more often.  They even walk to the end of the new pavement that stretches to the west section line. 

In recent years unorganized get-togethers have brought many of us together for an afternoon, as have the ball games next door on Friday afternoons.  I don’t like winter as much as I once did because those games don’t happen in cold weather.  And thus I don’t see the street full of cars, the big mesa-like yard next door lined with folding chairs, the grass teeming with kids playing incoherent, unorganized ball, usually the kicked kind.  My friends across the street often open their pool to anyone wanting a cool dip.

And with all this comes frequent digital contact.  A cacophony of messages flows around us, using a message address available to all.  Now, to paraphrase an old telephone ad, we can reach out and touch anyone!  That’s a good feeling.

Well, enough blathering.  A friend offering to let me try a mole gadget of his before I buy one spurred this writing.  What I wanted to say is that Deer Run Subdivision exists only as a marker on some county maps.  In its place is a warm neighborhood of good folks!