When I think about neighbors, there’s one story that comes to mind. I was in kindergarten and I lived in Hinsdale. I had a neighbor that lived about 300 yards down the road from me but our yards connected so we would play together all the time. He had the tire swing and tree fort that we would play on and I had the swingset that we also played on. He was a year or two older than me but we were about the same size and height. We were on my back porch playing around with a wiffle ball bat seeing how long we could balance on it. I went and soon fell off so it was my friend Sam’s turn. He stepped up onto the bat, using my grill to support him and I started counting. I thought it would be funny to nudge him slightly to make him fall off and that was a big mistake. He fell off the bat and then turned to me with a crazy look in his eye. In a split second I was face down on my deck bleeding profusely from my mouth. He did some sort of karate move, not to mention he had taken it since he was like three and was one belt under a black belt level, and caught the side of my mouth with the heel of his foot. He split open my face from the corner of my mouth the the middle of my lip. That was when I moved to Guilford.