Having lived in many places over the years, I have known a lot of neighbors.

Though I can remember earlier neighbors, those from when I was a pre-teen are among my favorite memories. This was in the latter half of the 1950s during the post-war baby boom. We had dozens of playmates and tons of fun.

I remember the day we moved away from that neighborhood. The truck was loaded and on its way to the new town and we were loading up the family Ford. The realization that we were really leaving this neighborhood struck me and I started bawling like a baby. I got over it … eventually.

Life goes on and several years later I was living on my own. In my first bachelor apartment the landlords were my neighbors. I lived upstairs; they lived downstairs. Orville and Eleanor became an uncle and aunt of sorts.

Cindy and I had good neighbors in the two neighborhoods in which we first lived; we knew some of them before we became neighbors. When we moved to the Sioux City suburb of Sergeant Bluff nearly 50 years ago we were faced with getting to know neighbors who were all complete strangers.

Our home in Sergeant Bluff was a duplex and we quickly became friends with the folks in the other half of our residence. Rob and Jan were our ages and were the parents of a daughter about the same age as our son. We were sad when they moved to Seattle but were fortunate to get new neighbors — Bob and Sue — who were also about our ages and who were also the parents of a daughter about the age of our son.

Across the street were young parents Dick and Fran, and later Joe and Nancy. Dick and Fran were Sioux City natives and helped us get acquainted with the community.

When we realized our kids needed more sand in their sandboxes, Dick showed me where to get free sand from the Missouri River sand dunes at the southeasternmost tip of South Dakota, less than 10 miles away. Our old station wagon was weighed down with buckets full of free river sand. Today that area is known as the bustling community of Dakota Dunes.

When we purchased a home in Sioux City we won the neighbor lottery. The Pylelos across the street had four kids to play with our son and daughter. Up the street were Donnie and Jenny and some kids whose names I don’t remember. The kids were busy playing all the time.

Our next-door neighbor, Dorothy, was an older widow and a sweetheart. When I got a new snowblower I assured her I would clear her driveway whenever it snowed. She wanted to pay me but I refused. In lieu of payment, I told her, the next time you bake something bring me a sample. That evening Dorothy brought over several large pieces of freshly baked banana cake with cream cheese frosting. Paid in full!

In Creston we had good neighbors all around. The middle-aged fellow to our east was a meticulous caretaker of his yard and I had to work hard to keep up with him. When he moved away that yard got a little shabby for a few years but by the time we moved away a lovely older lady and her adult daughter were dramatically improving the place.

We had excellent neighbors in Ankeny, too.

When I married Julie and moved to her home in north central Iowa we had good neighbors, too. I suffered a transient ischemic attack (TIA) our first autumn there. The doctor ordered me to avoid strenuous activity leaving me in a dilemma over the thick layer of leaves in the yard. As I was surveying the mess one afternoon, our neighbor, Bud, came over with his garden tractor and lawn vacuum and quickly solved the problem. Bud refused payment and said, “This is what neighbors do.”

We moved to our present home in a retirement community seven years ago and are surrounded by wonderful neighbors. We see canes and walkers in our community and even a few electric scooters. More importantly, we see people who have outgrown the need to keep up with the Joneses. We’re all glad to have made it this long.

Fifty years ago we appreciated our young parent neighbors. Today we appreciate our golden-ager neighbors.

Good neighbors are a treasure.

Arvid Huisman can be contacted at huismaniowa@gmail.com. ©2023 by Huisman Communications.