The Neighbor I Thought I Knew
For twenty years, Skip lived directly across the street from Irv, an older wiser neighbor.
They weren’t strangers. They had shared meals. Shoveled snow. Looked out for each other during power outages. By any reasonable definition, they were good neighbors.
Skip thought he knew Irv. Then, one late-summer weekend, a simple request for a fair gave him a reason to cross the street.
In this short Skip’s Quips wisdom story, Skip recounts what happened when he agreed to check on Irv while the rest of the family was away. What was supposed to be a quick visit turned into a long conversation, a walk through neighborhood history, a tour of Irv’s garden—and several return trips across Parkwood Road.
Along the way, Skip discovers there can be a surprising difference between knowing someone for a long time and actually knowing them.
It’s a story about neighbors, attention and the small distances we allow to remain between ourselves and people who are already part of our lives.
Sometimes a little wisdom is waiting just across the street.
Wisdom Resources & Links
Because Irv’s tomatoes deserved a proper ending:
Bon Appétit — Follow These Rules to Make the Best BLTs
Read the article
Learn more about Skip and The Main Thing Podcast:
https://themainthingpodcast.com/
Where’s the Wise Guest? What’s a “Skip’s Quip?”
Every so often, The Main Thing Podcast does something a little different. Instead of a conversation with a wise guest, Skip’s Quips gives host Skip Lineberg the microphone for a short wisdom story or reflection—usually in about ten minutes or less.
We publish about four of these special episodes each year alongside our regular wisdom conversations. Think of them as small pauses in the usual rhythm of the show: one story, one reflection and a little wisdom worth carrying with you.
Why This Story Matters
It’s easy to confuse familiarity with closeness. We wave. We exchange a few words. We know where someone lives, maybe a little about their family. And years can pass that way. In Skip’s case, twenty of them did.
Irv’s story is a gentle reminder that knowing someone better rarely requires a grand gesture. Sometimes it begins by staying a little longer than you planned, listening when you could have kept moving, or accepting an invitation you almost declined.
A Memorable Line
“I knew Irv. Or, at least I thought I did.”
Credits
Host + Writer — Skip Lineberg
Editor + Technical Advisor — Bob Hotchkiss
Brand + Strategy Advisor — Andy Malinoski
PR + Partnerships Advisor — Rachel Bell
Marketing, Social Media – Chloe Lineberg
Graphic Design — Emma Malinoski
Wisdom Chapters + Timestamps
00:00 — A Favor From a Neighbor
Tom asks Skip to check on Irv while the family is away.
01:47 — Crossing Parkwood Road
A routine check-in begins with an unexpected invitation.
02:36 — When the Caregiver Becomes the Guest
Skip goes to look after Irv—and quickly discovers Irv is taking care of him.
03:23 — Irv’s Garden
Fresh vegetables, a generous neighbor and some mighty fine BLTs.
04:13 — The Neighbor I Thought I Knew
Twenty years of familiarity suddenly looks a little different.
04:59 — More Than the Width of a Street
Skip begins to recognize a distance that wasn’t merely physical.
05:47 — Come In and Stay Awhile
A closing reflection on listening, lingering and what it means to really know someone.
Wisdom Keywords
Wisdom, neighbors, human connection, friendship, community, listening, attention, relationships, storytelling, personal growth, meaningful conversation, generosity, hospitality, connection, Appalachia, West Virginia, intentional living, Skip’s Quips, The Main Thing Podcast
Full Transcript of This Wisdom Episode
Skip Lineberg [00:0:01]
(0:00) One afternoon late last summer, my neighbor Tom called. “Would you mind checking in on Irv while the family is away this weekend?”
Tom apologized for asking. He had to go to Houston on a business trip.
I hesitated. Not because I didn’t like Irv; quite the opposite.
Irv and his wife Helen had lived across the street from Lisa and me for the twenty years that we’ve called Parkwood Road our home. They’re wonderful neighbors. The kind who call whenever the power goes out because their backup generator is at the ready. “Come over if you need heat,” Irv says in the wintertime. Or “air conditioning” in the summer.
“Bring anything over from your fridge or freezer if you need to make sure something doesn’t spoil during this power outage.”
Over the years, my son and I have shoveled Irv’s steep driveway after snowstorms. Lisa and I have shared a few meals with Irv and Helen. We’ve looked after one another in the quiet, ordinary ways good neighbors often do.
Skip Lineberg [00:01:04]
Still, I wasn’t eager to say yes. Life was busy, and after all, Tom usually handled these things. He lives right beside Irv.
In addition, Irv had suffered a minor stroke the year before. I had heard that he recovered pretty well, but he was still prone to falling.
What if something happened while everyone was away? I wasn’t exactly sure that I’d know what I was supposed to do.
Tom explained that Helen, the kids, and the grandkids were all going away together for a long weekend at an amusement park in Ohio.
“I can do that,” I finally said.
Skip Lineberg [00:01:47]
The next afternoon, I walked out my front door, and I crossed Parkwood Road. I walked up to Irv’s house and knocked on his front door.
He answered wearing his familiar thick black frame glasses, and he looked genuinely surprised. His expression seemed to ask: Skip, what are you doing here?
“Tom asked if I could stop by a few times this weekend,” I explained, “just to see if you needed anything.”
Irv chuckled. “Oh, I’m fine.”
Then he smiled. “That Tom is something else, isn’t he?”
Without another thought, he turned slightly and extended his arm backward toward the dining room, inviting me in. “Well, Skip, come on in and stay a while.”
Then Irv asked me a question I never expected, “What can I get you to drink?”
Skip Lineberg [00:02:36]
I’d crossed the street expecting to take care of Irv, but within moments, Irv was taking care of me.
We spent the next hour talking, and I mean really talking. Irv gave me a tour of the house that he and Helen had built decades earlier. He told me about his early life growing up in Northfork, West Virginia. We talked about the early days of Woodland Hills, our neighborhood, and some of the families who had helped shape it.
I was fascinated. I love history. I loved hearing people’s stories.
And here was a man who had lived directly across the street from me for twenty years telling me things I’d never known. At some point, I realized I wasn’t simply learning the history of our neighborhood. I was getting to know Irv.
Skip Lineberg [00:03:23]
Before I left, he said, “Hey, Skip, come outside. I want to show you my garden.”
His back deck was filled with raised beds and large garden pots overflowing with vegetables. Irv proudly showed me what he’d been growing, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, beans, all sorts of herbs. Before I knew it, he was insisting I’d take some home, fresh green leaf lettuce and a half a dozen beautiful full ripe tomatoes.
I protested … briefly. But Irv insisted.
So there I was walking back across the street with my arms loaded with fresh vegetables, given to me by the guy I’d gone over there to check on.
Needless to say, I enjoyed some mighty fine BLTs over the next few days.
Skip Lineberg [00:04:13]
And I kept going back. Over the course of that weekend, I crossed Parkwood Road five times. The visits got longer. The conversations got richer. They meandered into all sorts of fascinating topics.
And I’d walk home afterward thinking about something Irv had told me.
After one of those walks, I found myself wondering how had I lived across the street from this man for twenty years and never had a conversation quite like these.
After all, we weren’t strangers. We’d shared meals. We’d helped each other through snowstorms and power outages. I knew Irv. Or, at least I thought I did, but I’d never taken the time to simply sit in his house and listen to him talk about his life.
Skip Lineberg [00:04:59]
It took Tom leaving leaving town for that to happen. And remember, when Tom called, I almost didn’t wanna do it. I was busy.
When Tom first called, I thought he was asking me to keep an eye on Irv. Looking back, I think Tom was giving me a reason to cross the street. Not just physically, relationally.
That little bit of distance had been there for twenty years, and I hadn’t noticed it.
There are people we see all the time without knowing much about them. Neighbors are especially easy that way. You can wave from the car or talk for a couple minutes while somebody’s dragging the trash cans back from the curb.
And years can pass. Twenty, apparently.
Skip Lineberg [00:05:47]
Since that weekend, I’ve wondered who else I think I know simply because I’ve known them for a long time. There is a difference. Getting to know someone better doesn’t always require some grand gesture. Sometimes, it’s just staying a little longer than you planned, listening when you could have kept moving, or accepting an invitation that you almost declined.
”Well, Skip, come on in and stay awhile.”
I’m so grateful Tom called, and I’m even more grateful I said yes. Because after twenty years of living across the street from Irv, I finally got to know my neighbor.
