It took six years and a Category One hurricane to know who my neighbors were.

I live in insular America where a hurricane that breaks fences introduces you to your neighbors. That’s exactly what Beryl, the fiery storm did.

Beryl broke our backyard fences but we got to know our neighbors for the first time in six years. I know who my neighbors are as we had to split costs to fix the fences.

In our insular suburbs, each one is on his own. Years ago, a friend told me something impactful. We get up, go to work, and return to our ghettos. We do this without knowing who lives next door. So true as I wait for the next hurricane to know my neighbors better!