Neighborhood Celebrates Night Out

We had not heard of it before, but the concept sounded great: National Night Out.

Basically a block party. We could walk to a nearby house, meet the police chief, see the motorcycle and K-9 patrols and check out the fire truck. Oh, and free food.

We circled the date on the calendar and planned to attend. Our enthusiasm, free food aside, stemmed from a chance to actually meet more of the people who lived in our little neighborhood. Not being gregarious people who walk up to someone's door uninvited, we knew only the people who lived adjacent to our property. All lovely, generous, interesting people. Yet many more houses remained a mystery to us. Who lived in them, where did they work, did they adhere to similar goals and morals as we did, would they like to be our friends?

Our next door neighbor told us about the sense of community they all discovered following the year that four hurricanes hit the area. They brought out foods, defrosting because of lack of electricity, and had a big cook out, sharing food and drink and whatever they could. They helped each other clean up their yards and make repairs and when they returned to their homes, they all had bridged the initial get-acquainted hurdles that stood between them in the past.

So we watched the clock and followed the signs to the designated party central, hoping that something similar could happen for us. We weren't disappointed.

We met so many lovely people. We talked nonstop and people gathered around my husband in his wheelchair without hesitation. They didn't pester him with questions about 'what's wrong with you' but rather 'which house do you live in?' or "Where do you work?" or "Do you want more to eat?"

We asked similar questions, learned names and quickly forgot too many of them. Our brains couldn't handle the overload of friendly faces. We'd live in a neighborhood for so long where we encountered only a few people, that we were in a bit of shock.

One woman and I exchanged names and phone numbers -- wrote them down so that we could get together, maybe walk together around the neighborhood. She took me in her house to find paper and pen and I looked around her familiar kitchen -- all of the houses in the development are similar. But hers was so tidy. So clean. So well decorated. And the furniture was stunning. I couldn't wait to get home and start cleaning and throwing things away and putting my own house in order.

Since that night we feel ourselves becoming part of the community. If we forgot names, we remember faces. We'll wave and smile and know these are good people who live here the next time we see them. We'll wave and smile at Rose as she takes her walk cloaked in her ankle length overcoat and wide brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses. We'll know she has sun allergies, is allergic to bee sting and lives alone -- a widow.

My husband and I grew up in small farming communities where everyone knew everyone else and had been neighbors and friends for generations. We 'belonged' and had never really thought that our lives would be otherwise. Then we began moving with his job and suddenly we were 'outsiders' and isolated and not equipped to find our way inside. Until this party.

The object was to acquaint us with service providers in the community, help our neighborhood become more aware of the people living around us. But for us, it planted a sense of community that we hadn't felt for far too long. Mom always says 'bloom where you're planted.'

We both began to 'take root' as we stood surrounded by friendly faces and neighbors who truly welcomed us to the community.

And we thoroughly enjoyed the grilled hot dogs and chips.

Where would we be without friends?

When the tough face
challenges,

-- their friends see them through.

That's the case these days as we reach out and ask for donations and support for the ALS Association, the Goldsmith Team and the Walk to Defeat ALS.

People have written checks, offered to walk with us, and asked what else they can do. Virginia Spiegel, a talented (soooo talented!) fabric artist has donated AND mentioned our cause on her blog and testified that the ALS Association is a worthwhile cause. The local quilt guild Cabin Fever Quilters is looking into contributing a raffle quilt so we can raise some more funds with that. Family and friends we haven't seen for more than a decade are demanding to know how they can give and what else needs done. New friends, neighbors, work place colleagues all want to help. And all of their prayers and good wishes keep us going as we face new challenges in our personal life.

We have never been ones to ask, we'd rather be the ones doing and giving, but in the last few years, we find ourselves on the receiving end of so many kindnesses and so much generosity that we can't think about it without getting tears in our eyes.

When Derrol's brother was stricken with ALS it was the 1960s and Tommy was 10 years old. The neurologists had no idea what it was, not even thinking ALS in one his age. Ironic -- he was playing Little League baseball at the time and was stumbling and falling -- these were his first symptoms. I guess he and Lou Gehrig had more in common than we ever expected. Tommy had just turned 18 when he died. He had wasted away to a near skeleton. His voice was gone, but he was as sharp as ever. For a boy/man of that age to watch his body turn on him and know there were no treatments -- no hope....

There were four boys and two girls in that immediate family and they all chipped in to help with Tommy's care and quality of life. Derrol, the oldest, would take Tommy to the high school and literally throw him over his shoulder to take him to classes -- up stairs and down -- rushing to not only get Tommy to his classes but Derrol had to get to his own. Everyone wanted Tommy to live life to the fullest. They all went to hockey games at the arena nearby and the hockey team adopted him as their mascot. Tommy's wheelchair still has a bumper sticker on it with the team's name and logo. All of these years later, he died in 1972, the wheelchair is a reminder -- as if we need one.

We look at our two grown sons and pray, "Not them, please not them."

We not only work for ALS funds to help Derrol, our sons, and to remember Tommy, but for my father. He had a similar neurological disease -- Alzheimer's Disease. We know that research in one 'tangle' disease as they call ALS, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, etc. helps move research forward in all of them. Muscular Dystrophy is also related. So our efforts to help Derrol have a much broader service.

And, sorry, I can't seem to stop writing about this once I get started. One more thing. Our military men and women especially those who served in the Gulf War are from 35 to 60 percent more likely to get ALS than the general population. Now we see a cluster of ALS diagnosis in people who were involved with NASA and Patrick Air Force Base. There is a study going on right now to find out the common denominator.

Sadly most people stricken are hardy, athletic, healthy people whose muscles shrivel and waste and usually within 3-6 years they are totally incapacitated and die. About 90 percent of those diagnosed have no idea why they have it. It is called sporadic and hits for no seeming reason at all. Five to 10 percent have the familial or inherited form that Derrol was diagnosed with.

ALS Association funds research and offers support and supplies and equipment (at no charge) to patients of ALS -- I don't know what we would do without this group of people. Between our support group at ALS Association in Winter Park and the Florida Chapter as well as our dear friend Gary Presley, Derrol has quality of life and is learning about living with a disability.

Our friends running the Florida Chapter of ALS Association say we've set out a really tough goal to reach -- $5000. They're probably right. But I think their goal may be tougher -- a cure for ALS. We are 1/5th of the way to our goal -- with help we can make it! We live in hope, it is the only thing available to people with ALS until we find treatments and cures.

With help from our friends, we can get rid of this and many other nasty diseases that seem to target our best and brightest and bravest. Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and donations. Just knowing that someone cares is a priceless gift.

If you care to donate, please click here and then push the Make a donation button, follow the directions and don't forget to hit SUBMIT! And please know how much we appreciate your help in this project we cannot complete alone.