By Millie Watters
With my son only 1 week old, we followed a moving van to our newly purchased midcentury house in the South Hills neighborhood of Fort Worth.
As the movers stacked boxes in empty rooms, we welcomed friends, family and neighbors who stopped by to welcome us home. One unknown man came to the door and joined in the chaos of transition. An older resident had seen the moving truck and had alerted him of the new owner’s arrival. He was eager to meet us and revisit his childhood. His family minted the home, which sat on the edge of prairie and Fort Worth proper, just before I-20 was established to the near south. Like many neighbors, he grew up going to the elementary school opened at the same time just half a block away.
We would soon learn that the neighborhood was layered with a diversity of families and singles, who had arrived in various waves over the years.
In the almost seven years since that day, we have enjoyed the friendships developed through chain-link fence conversations, evening bike rides, gardening trials, backyard chickens and picking up each other’s Amazon packages.
Our neighbors have babysat our kids, picked them up from the bus, passed down toys and kept a watchful eye when needed. These proximate friends have been our relational lifeline.
Meanwhile, the sidewalks, free little library, churchyard labyrinth and schoolyard have provided the ground our souls have needed to sustain hope and growth.
Below are several poems inspired by the moving life of our neighborhood:
Evening tides
The kestrel left Kody’s roof,
dipped the last of the May air then
rose to rest on vacant limbs.
He didn’t seem to notice our passing through
the street lamp light.
Run ahead steps then
side by side.
hands held
then not.
The lady that owns the snow cone
stand closes her trailer
pulled up, parked tight
near the porch for the night.
We turn back.
Stops and starts
tracing invisible footsteps of
yesterdays
walk to Mimis.
A small bat gives an airshow between
Miguel’s and Ms. Lisa’s.
Dora folds her lawn chair
waves goodnight.
Zumba Night
Sneakers pound pavement
Music blows
hot summer air
across sweaty noses
Ladies moving
their tired bodies and let loosin’
Bells ringing
Ice cream screaming
A magic man in a straw hat
pushing a cart
melting mama’s hearts
and taking sticky dollars.
Bike wheels whirling
Sunglasses
twirling hair
sitting on a
bench scrolling
that phone and sideways
glancin’ at the boy
She’s known
Since first grade.
Old couple
holding hands
dog walking
wordless but soft
smilin’
at the little feet
seesawin’
to the beat
of a metal fan
Rattlin.
To tell the story of where you live, please send your essay to hello@fortworthreport.org and Managing Editor Thomas Martinez at thomas.martinez@fortwortheport.org.
South Hills
Total population: 5,020
Female: 43% | Male: 57%
Age
0-9: 14%
10-19: 11%
20-29: 22%
30-39: 13%
40-49: 12%
50-59: 12%
60-69: 11%
70-79: 4%
80 and older: 1%
Education
No degree: 14%
High school: 23%
Some college: 29%
Bachelor’s degree: 27%
Post-graduate: 7%
Race
White: 46% | Asian: 0% | Hispanic: 47% | Black: 6% | Two or more: 1%
Click on the link to view the schools’ Texas Education Agency ratings:
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