I bought my first house in Nashville in 2020 - it was May, the world was very much shut down - and I moved into a beautiful neighborhood in the Bellevue area. Being in the very early stages of a global pandemic there weren't any neighbors that stopped by to welcome you to the neighborhood. In fact it was in that phase where even walking on the neighborhood sidewalks people would move to the road to let you pass so we didn't walk too close to each other - wild times.
By the time the world opened up again - I had been in my home about a year - give or take, and at that point it felt the new neighbor introduction time had passed. So it wasn't until something happened in the neighborhood, and we all happened to be outside, I started to meet the people who lived just yards away from me; a military mechanic, an arborist, a couple married for decades with almost the same first name, and a woman with the sweetest elderly rescue dog; Abbey.
Over time we learned about each others families, illnesses, needs and despite not talking every day or even every week - we knew we could knock on each others doors at any time and be there for each other - because that's what neighbors do.
I know too many people who - even not in a pandemic - move into their new home and move out years later without ever learning their neighbor's first name. I'm certainly guilty of doing this. But I think knowing the people around you is so important.
This week will force a lot of Nashvillians to get to know their neighbors. It's what happens when disaster strikes a community - people come together. Although I don't know the stories - I've seen many people talking along residential streets, walking between yards - maybe just sharing their stories of the frustration of the power outages and hatred of the ice - or lending a helping hand.
I hate that any of us are going through this. I heard someone say today it's like a tornado came through and then the damage was encased in ice. As I write this - there are still about 80,000 homes without power in Nashville - and I'm sure that number is actually higher. This weekend temperatures are predicted to be in the single digits.
The homes on the street where I live now, are part of that 80,000 in the dark. Many of them running on generators, some just keeping the fireplace going log-after-log, day-after-day - others just relying on family and friends until our lights finally come back on. We live in the country now, north of the city, and well before we moved in someone started a group chat for the road - a way to stay connected and get to know your neighbors where you're a little further than just a few yards apart.
This week the group chat has been a life saver; allowing us to share needs - resources - and just check in with each other to make sure everyone is safe and warm, and able to hang on for hopefully just one more day. Some neighbors even opening up their homes to offer warmth, a shower and even food. There's 18 of us in the chat - a handful I know, some I'm finally meeting in-person this week, but all just there for each other.
It's hard to see any silver lining when the community is quite literally in a dark place, but if there's one thing I can hope comes from this it's that more people get to know their neighbors - so even in the brighter times we can be there for one another; whether it's just to share a story or lend a helping hand. <3
