Oprah Gets Neighborly

A few weeks ago Oprah Winfrey did something straight out of the Donna Reed 1950's.  She went up on a cherry picker with a bullhorn and introduced herself to the residents of a building across the street from her Harpo Studios in Chicago.  She said she'd spent hours and hours imagining the residents of those buildings and she finally couldn't help herself. 

She wanted to encourage her viewers to do the same.  Not the cherry picker and bullhorn part of course, but the neighborly introduction part.  Since as we all know, I think Oprah is a goddess, I wanted to pass along her story with an anecdote of my own.

When I first moved into my house, I was very happy to be a brand new homeowner but I was more than a little intimidated by the reception I might receive in this lovely, tree-lined suburban bastion of the 1950's, to this freewheeling, single black woman with no money. 

Three days before I moved in, I was up to my ankles in Pine Sol and Scrubbing Bubbles when my doorbell rang.  My doorbell...to my brand new house...that I owned all by myself...that had every penny I ever earned embedded in its beautifully wallpapered walls.

Anyway, at the door was a young, dark haired woman who introduced herself as Jill, my new neighbor.  She wanted to welcome me to the neighborhood and handed me a homemade Betty Crocker cake wrapped in red cellophane with a card attached.  On the card were the names of everyone in her family and their telephone number.  Being my mother's daughter, my first thought was, "What's this woman really want?"  My second thought was to politely say, "Thank you."

Those neighbors have since moved away but I still have that card tucked away in a drawer somewhere. Though Jill and I never became more than neighborly acquaintances, I never forgot her gesture and I decided to the return the favor whenever anyone new moved on the block.

Partly it was for selfish reasons.  As a single woman homeowner I figured when that fence issue, or that noise issue, or that tree trimming issue came up, it would hopefully be less like the Hatfields and the McCoys, and more like the Flintstones and the Rubbles.  It's harder for a someone to screw you over when they've met you face to face. 

So, over the years, whenever someone new moved on my block, I went over, introduced myself and handed over a pie, a cake or a fancy loaf of bread.

That's how I met my good friends Lucy and Guillermo---they eventually moved into Jill's house.  That's also how I welcomed Island Girl to the neighborhood.  She too was single and though we had been introduced before she moved in, after I brought over an apple pie with my name and number, it was the beginning of our friendship.

Now, I might have met these people eventually and still become friends but I like to think my return of Jill's gesture had something to do with making my block a real neighborhood.

So, take Oprah's advice and mine:  get a pie and introduce yourself to a neighbor.