We live in a very small town. Everybody knows everybody because everybody went to school with everybody and is cousins with everybody and works with everybody and everybody knows us because we live in Mr. ___’s old house and have all them kids.
This was a difficult adjustment for me when I first moved here. Coming to Kentucky from Manhattan, where there is a certain amount of apathy for everyone and everything, it was difficult for me to get used to neighbors knowing neighbors and everyone talking to me, everywhere I went! But I’ve come to love living in a small town. A place where we can make a purchase at the local store without paying because they know we’ll bring the money to them the next time we’re out. A place where we can go to do something that is supposed to involve an ID but it’s no big deal if you forgot your wallet, because they know who you are and where you live. I’ve gotten used to giving people directions to my house by telling them who built it and meeting complete strangers who know how many children we have and where I was last weekend.
Last night, there was a huge storm and we thought lightning struck our neighbor’s house and my daughter thought she saw fire. I also heard something that sounded very much like a smoke alarm, so we were concerned. There was no one home and I didn’t have our neighbor’s phone number so I called 911 to alert them of the situation. After giving the dispatcher my address, he said: “yep, I know him real well. I’ll just give him a call.”
Well, that would never happen in New York!