The Man No One Knew: Excerpt from The Neighboring Playbook

 

The following story is one of the reasons why I wrote The Neighboring Playbook. 

We hear a great deal today about loneliness, division, and declining trust. We often look to Washington, Jefferson City, or city hall for the answers. But I have become convinced that one of America's greatest opportunities is much closer than that. It is the people who live next door.

My book isn't really about being nicer. It's about rebuilding the relationships that make communities stronger. 

I believe neighboring isn't just a personal virtue; it's civic infrastructure. 

When neighbors know one another, communities become safer, healthier, more resilient, and more connected.

My hope is that readers won't simply purchase and finish my book. I hope they'll walk home, learn one new neighbor's name, host one gathering, or knock on one door. Because that's where stronger communities begin.

So here is my excerpt:

The ambulance arrived with lights flashing quietly against the houses on the street, painting the front yards red and blue. A few curtains moved as neighbors peeked through their windows. One garage door opened halfway, then closed again.

Most people on the block did not know the man who lived there. They recognized the house, of course. It had been there for years. They had seen the man occasionally bringing in groceries, mowing his yard, or pulling out of the driveway. But they did not know his name.

The paramedics moved quickly, carrying equipment through the front door. After a few minutes they wheeled him out on a stretcher. He looked pale and small beneath the blanket.

No one stepped outside.

It was not that the neighbors were uncaring. In fact, many of them felt a quiet concern as they watched from their windows. They wondered if he would be okay. Some even considered walking over to ask if help was needed.

But something held them back. They had never spoken before.

It felt awkward to begin in the middle of an emergency.

Within minutes the ambulance doors closed and the vehicle pulled away. The flashing lights disappeared down the street. Porch lights clicked off. Curtains fell back into place.

The street returned to normal.

The next morning, several neighbors noticed the newspaper sitting in the driveway. A few days later, someone saw a relative cleaning out the house. Only then did the neighbors begin asking one another questions.

"Did you know him?"

"I think his name was Jim... maybe."

"How long had he lived there?"

No one was quite sure.

On paper, the neighborhood looked healthy. The homes were well kept. Families lived on every block. Cars filled the driveways each evening.

But something essential was missing.

People lived near one another. They just didn't live with one another. And that quiet distance, the space between houses that should have been filled with relationship, is where the modern relational crisis begins.

WRITTEN BY

David L. Burton

For more information, visit the Engaged Neighbor website. Take our pledge and become part of a movement! Or subscribe to our newsletter. Access some of the research documents written by David Burton, the author of this blog. Or better yet, purchase one of his books off Amazon. Contact David L. Burton via email at dburton541@yahoo.