Palm Beach County residents were asked:
Please tell us about an important moment in your life that would help someone understand what it’s like living in your neighborhood.
The stories and micro-narratives they submitted (as part of the We Are Here SenseMaker project) are listed below. Click ZOOM IN to learn more about the community member and how they interpreted their submission. NOTE: Some stories were partially transcribed by volunteers who shortened the narratives and referred to the storytellers in the third person (e.g., “her experience was” instead of “my experience was”).
My dad was working on my car in the front he was under the car when the car jacked slipped and the car slammed down on him he called out for him he calls out for help but I did Not hear him luckily our across the street neighbors herd him and rushed over to get the car off of him
I would just tell them it’s a good place versus west palm beach. The people are friendly. Wrong doing everywhere, but the larger the community, the more stable it is.
The neighborhood was a family, every child was each other’s, whenever there were needs, the others would help. My mother died in 1977, my neighbor had 4 girls but made sure we had decent clothes to wear. Born one of thirteen children, dad worked on the farm, woke up at 3 am and came home late. Mom was authority figure, caring for one another. Did not have much but made sure we had enough. We didn’t see ourselves as being poor. If someone was sick, we helped each other.
It’s nice living here, but the past… you don’t want to know. Now it’s nice. No break ins, no stealing… everyone gets along.
One morning I got up and went running and as I was running I seen this person struggling to get stuff out the car, and so I had a feeling in my gut to help out so I ran towards the person and asked can I land a hand with those, and so the person let me helped and as soon as I was done helping , she rewarded me with a beverage and ever since that me and that person became good friends, it’s a very good thing to help people in the neighborhood no matter what it is.
I remember after the annual roots festival which took place every year a group of us would go on Atlantic ave and post up while the nice cars passed by after the festival let out. This was tradition up until 1999 when the than Delray Beach police Chief order his officer to suite up in riot gear and come disperse of the crowd. I remember feeling helpless and going home and asking my mom, Why would they treat us like that. This was well before police and community relationships mattered to our city leaders.