Islandia Drive

In Memory of Wes Taxier 04/02/1963- 07/31/2021

They say it takes a village to raise a child. For me, it took a neighborhood.

Before I was born my parents found a house they really loved but it was out of their budget, so they purchased a different one. One day, before construction had started, my dad called my mom, “I think we should buy the other house. We can make it work.” So, my mom called the builder and told them they had changed their mind, and my parents bought the house they loved on Islandia Drive. My mom always jokes that they ate Mac N’ Cheese for a year to ensure they could afford the house. That one decision, to go for the other house, really changed my entire family for the better. Because, growing up in that house, on that street, in that neighborhood… it was magical.

The house was average size, but it always seemed to fit everyone. Growing up, my brother Graham’s best friends, Joel and Adam, lived right next door. And my other brother, Bradley, his best friend and his little brother, Kevin and Menish, they lived right across the street. My best friend, Janne, and her older sister, Jenne, they lived two doors down and our moms are still best friends to this day. My brothers, Joel, Adam, Kevin, Menish, Janne and Jenne, and few other neighborhood kids, would all play together almost every day and my mom vary rarely made a fuss about the number of kids in her house. When it’d get too chaotic my mom would just say, “It’s time to take this outside,” and we’d go out and invent some mix of soccer and hockey. Joel, Adam, Kevin and Menish all became my bonus brothers. I’m certain they were at our house more than their own! On Fridays my mom would order Little Caesars and we’d watch TGIF. All the boys would spend the night and I got to join. On Saturday mornings, Joel and I would walk to the ABCO by our house to buy donuts for everyone. Joel taught me how to smile really cute and ask for a baker’s dozen and it worked. He also taught me a secret handshake and would carry me around on a plunger!

On Saturday afternoons I would ask my dad to take me “cruising”. We’d drive down Islands Drive in my dad’s Chevy Silverado listening to the Eagles. I’d sit in the middle seat and if I was lucky, my dad would let me steer for a bit. “Don’t look at where you are, look at where you’re going,” Dad would tell me. “When I grow up, I want a truck just like this,” I told my dad. “Look at where you’re going, Laura,” my dad reminded me, “If you get a scholarship to college, I’ll buy you a truck.” When the scholarship letters came in, my dad kept his end of the deal.

For a long time, I was the youngest on the street and I used my cuteness to my advantage. One time, when I wanted a new baby doll, I went door-to-door selling coupons. The same coupons all those neighbors had also received in the mail, but I managed to scrounge up a good $5. Janne and I would charge the neighbors 25 cents to solve crimes and we made a few more dollars.

Once, I saw Adam sitting on his driveway with his new girlfriend. I went right up, plopped myself in his lap, looked at her and said, “Hi, I’m Adam’s girlfriend. Who are you?”

There were some mean boys who lived at the end of the street and they often teased me because I was the youngest and liked to ride my stick horse. I finally got sick of it and when they rode by on their bikes I wound my stick horse up like a baseball bat and hit one of them square in the stomach, knocking him off his bike. They never teased me again.

Our house was also always full of family. My cousins are all close in age to my brothers and me, so they often ended up in our home as well. My mom hosted a lot of the holidays in our home. When everyone gets together it can be well over 30 people but that didn’t stop mom from letting others join us. Joel and Adam would see the cars parked in front of our house and head over, letting themselves in. Once, my family sat in a circle in the dark playing Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board. As we raised my cousin up in the air, Joel went running out of the house crying. Over the years, other neighbors joined us, our friends, the people we were dating, and many people who I didn’t realize weren’t actually family until I was a teenager.

In first grade I started at Islands Elementary, our neighborhood school. At Islands I made lifelong friends and connected with all of my teachers (with one exception). I had the same wonderful teacher for 3rd and 4th grade. When I was in fourth grade, my brother took my teacher’s daughter to the prom. My mom told me not to talk about it at school because she didn’t want it to become a big thing. Well, my teacher told the entire class and I sat in silence. Afterwards she asked me, “Is everything okay, Laura?” “I’m just not allowed to talk about that,” I remember responding. I cried on the last day of 4th grade because after two years together, our class had grown exceptionally close. Thankfully, I had an equally amazing teacher for 5th grade, and she also decided to loop up to 6th grade with us. We’re still close to this day… she helped make the bouquets for my wedding and my husband and I rented a condo from her when we were first married.

The majority of my school friends also lived in the Islands and because it was such a safe neighborhood, my parents often let us ride our bikes or rollerblade to each other’s houses. As we rode through the neighborhood, we’d see other friends from school and they’d join our biker gang. I remember in 4th grade riding back and forth in front of the boy I liked’s house just to see if he would happen to be outside.

While I was still in elementary school, new neighbors moved in, Vicki and Wes. We welcomed them into the neighborhood, and they welcomed me into their home. I’d go over and Vicki would teach me to bake. She was the only person I knew who had a tabletop Kitchen Aide mixer and she made her icing from scratch. Vicki and Wes let me tag along with them everywhere. As we’d drive to Target, Wes would talk about life and every so often he’d pause to say, “Are you writing this down?”

Even in high school the majority of my friends lived in the Islands or nearby. My friends and I weren’t into the party scene. On Saturday nights we’d crowd in someone’s living room and just hangout or in the summer we’d sit in the bed of my truck and just talk. I think that’s part of the reason I’m still such good friends with many of my high school friends… we had quality relationships, shared our hopes and dreams, and spent time having the real conversations. My friends were comfortable with my parents and I was comfortable with theirs. My dad would wrestle with my guy friends or play practical jokes on them, and my mom would ask my girl friends about their parents and siblings who we all knew too.

After high school graduation, I moved two hours south to attend the University of Arizona. I really enjoyed college, but I absolutely loved coming home. At college everything was so new and different but at home, everything was safe and familiar. I’d often drive home after class and work on Fridays. When I got home, I’d visit with my family for a bit and play with my niece and nephew and then the doorbell would ring and in would walk those same old friends.

When I look back on my childhood, I can’t think of much I would change. And when I think back on my favorite childhood memories, the vast majority, are moments that took place in my home or on my street with the community my parents built for me.

Jacob and I are working to create a strong community for our children as well. We try to fill our home every weekend with people we love. Whether it’s family, old friends and their spouses and children, church friends, or new friends, we often seem to have a full house. My kids are still young, but I look forward to being the house their friends come to hangout. Everyone’s welcome and I hope our community continues to grow.