By any standard, I had a blessed childhood.

• 2-parent home
• 2 great sisters
• many lessons learned in sports
• unique family opportunities and adventures
• memorable school experience … and more

One of my favorite recollections is the closeness of our neighborhood. My peers in Ramar (Estates, just south of Springfield) played kickball, wiffleball, “Capture the Flag” til dark most nights.

A neighborhood football game was on tap every Saturday afternoon. Sure, we have the infamous Christmas lights, but it was so much more.

Neighbors would call my parents or vice versa at after dinner and settling in, to say “put on a pot of coffee, we are coming over.” My sisters and I loved those nights, because it always meant we were staying up late.

Several boys and I even got black-tshirts made with sparkled letters, that said “Ramar Raiders.” We wanted to go challenge Sunnyland, Limecrest, Possum Woods and others to a game of anything. We thought we were the “Kings of the Mountain.” Nothing was too big for us.

Today, things have changed.  Recently, I’ve seen people go through divorce, career changes, moves out of the area, and babies born.

One common thread is spun through each of those situations.

People don’t rally behind like they once did.  Family members, friends, the church, regardless of how bonded, we’re not accessible.

We’re too busy.  We are isolated.  We are in our own world.

We can’t encourage, drop a line, send a note, stop and visit, because the calendar won’t allow it.

This needs to stop. We need to re-engage.

I saw pictures of the “King of Kings” statue in Cincinnati last week, and noticed how many had people pulling off the road to get pictures in front of it.

Ironic, how much we want a picture of that, when lives are burning around us all the time. So few Kodak moments when they are personal and needy around us.