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Ernie owned the heating and cooling company in town and his trucks could be seen everywhere. He was originally from Minnesota but had lived in Michigan most of his life. He owned a family cottage up North and spent winters in Florida. Ernie was a very successful business man and a kind neighbor. We shared many conversations over the back fence, comparing notes on the status of the world, gardening tricks, home improvement…the usual stuff. Only two times did I enter his yard (both to retrieve an errant beagle fully “on scent”). Never, to my knowledge did he enter mine. The folk proverb “tall fences make good neighbors” was the silent code we lived by.
Each spring, while cleaning up the back yard and preparing for summer, we would meet over the fence to catch up on the winter news. We would discuss his time in Florida, what was coming up this year and how big our gardens would be. There never seemed to be a topic of world changing caliber but seemed important nonetheless. I always knew the first conversation of the year would be a long one so I would make sure I had plenty of time to settle in for a while. During the summer we would discuss the status of our gardens and the recent events being debated at city hall. Throughout the summer we would convene an impromptu meeting and “fence” with each other. As summer wore on, and the gardens began to produce fruit, he would hang bags of tomatoes, potatoes and such on our side of the fence. When we had something to share from our meager garden we would hang a bag on his side. It was our own un-regulated micro economy and it worked well; with no government oversight I might add. In the fall, as I took down the screen house for winter storage, he and I would chat about the coming winter. With a hand shake and a smile we would say goodbye until the spring when we could “fence” once more.
We followed this annual ritual for more than a decade until word came that Ernie had passed. After the funeral I could not help but think with sad remorse that I would never again “fence” with Ernie.
A great neighbor is hard to come by and more difficult to lose. Ours was an interesting and curious relationship, one that satisfied a deep need in us both. It was never stated but well understood; he the Mentor and I the Mentee. I will always cherish his wisdom and generosity.