Cherry NextDoor
I had to say goodbye to Cherry NextDoor last night.
That’s how I saved her contact in my phone, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone NextDoor who is better than Cherry. When we moved in to our apartment in Detroit, we weren’t trying to move into this neighborhood. There was nothing we particularly liked about the apartment other than we could afford it, we could have our dog there, and it wasn’t too far from where Meredith works. But now we’re about to leave, and this block has become one of my favorite places on earth, and it’s mostly because of Cherry.
I don’t even remember when I met Cherry the first time, or our first conversation. I do remember our first long conversation — there was a ruckus coming from one of the abandoned houses across the street and I peeked my head out, to make sure someone hadn’t broken in. But the Three Guardian Angels, Cherry, Sherry, and Gloria were already outside, fully apprised of the situation, and keeping their eyes on the men with the minivan salvaging what was salvageable before the house was torn down. I used to think that all these houses in Detroit getting torn down was a sad thing, but they couldn’t have been more delighted, they had been begging for that house to go for years. That afternoon was when I had my first long conversation with Cherry, and discovered what I’m sure is only a portion of the deep commitment Cherry has for her city and her neighborhood.
I’m not going to try and go into all of the ins and outs of Detroit’s decline and “comeback.” While it is an interesting story, you can read about that elsewhere. This isn’t a comeback story, this is the story of the people who stayed. Cherry, Sherry, and Gloria, and, as I would find out later, a significant amount of people, had been living in this neighborhood for over 50 years, since they were children. They grew up in a thriving neighborhood with high occupancy, close neighbors, and deep community, and that continues to be their vision for the city and for their neighborhood. And they are actively working still, with block club meetings and clean-up days and lobbying the city to knock down blighted houses. They’re always up to date on the latest development projects to make sure they have a say in the “improvements” to make sure that’s what they actually are. I learned all this in a conversation that went so long my wife wondered where on earth I’d gone to. From that moment I sought out conversation and stories whenever I caught her on her porch.
I started calling Cherry (and Sherry and Gloria) guardian angels when I discovered that Cherry was always watching. As you may have picked up from the abandoned houses, while I love the people on our block, I’m not ignorant about some of the more problematic elements of the neighborhood, and Meredith and I (along with our mothers I’m sure) are incredibly grateful to have people watching out for us. I found out that she was always keeping an eye out when it got close to Meredith’s due date. We had mentioned that we were having a baby and he was due around the end of September. Starting that last week in September, any time either of us went in or out, Cherry was on her porch making sure we hadn’t had Jude yet. He ended up being almost a week late, but when we arrived from the hospital, she came right out to admire and ooh and ahh and we knew that she was always going to be watching out for all three of us. Sure enough, a few months later, I got a phone call asking why I had left my front door and half the doors of our vehicle open for over an hour. I didn’t have a good answer.
I found out Cherry considered us part of her neighborhood family when we went to our first block club meeting. As you may have already guessed, Meredith and I have been the only white people on this block, and most of the surrounding blocks. We get odd looks sometimes, especially when we first moved in. I’m still not sure what the neighbors thought, but we made an effort to approach the situation with an open mind and willingness to listen, and we’ve learned a lot. So, as one would guess, we were the only white people at the block club meeting. We had a fantastic time, culminating when everyone gathered around to sing “Happy Birthday” to someone there, only to discover that black people have a different, infinitely better version of “Happy Birthday” that neither of us had ever heard. But the best moment by far was when I went to introduce myself to the president of the block club. Meredith and I walked over, I offered an overly-earnest handshake and began to introduce myself, and was met with a very skeptical (perhaps just confused) look. Then Cherry, who was nearby, came over and practically gushed “these are my neighbors!” Madame President’s demeanor immediately changed, and we had a brief but pleasant conversation until little Jude fell completely to pieces and we had to make a quick exit. But that little moment turned me from an outsider into someone who belonged.
And now, we’re about to move away, and I knew I needed to say goodbye. I called her, and knocked on the door, but she wasn’t in. I finally got a call at 9:30 while doing dishes, she had just arrived back home from a celebration at 12th and Clairmount that I hadn’t heard anything about. I let her know we were leaving, and we went outside to have one last front yard chat. She gave us both a big hug, gave us one last update about neighborhood goings-on, and then we had to go inside to escape the mosquitos.
It’s rare to find someone who genuinely thinks you’re delightful (I made sure to marry my favorite one), and there have been people sprinkled throughout my life who remind me that I can just be myself, make me feel at ease in my own skin. One of those people happened to be Cherry NextDoor.

