Why Bridgeport? Neighbors Still Helping Neighbors
By Jon Griffith on August 31, 2024 from Why Bridgeport?
As a child living in a divorced family, it was routine for my father to pick up my brothers and me early on Saturday morning. Often my father would have a full day’s worth of projects lined up for us at his house or, more often, at the campground.
My father built and owned Greenberry Farms KOA as a side hustle for his full-time advertising job. The 170-acre campground was located on Grapevine Road near Pocatalico, West Virginia, just north of Charleston. As far as side hustles go, it was a sizeable undertaking.
There was always ample work to be done at the campground. Chopping firewood, repairing fences, making gravel, hosing out the 
bathhouse, collecting trash, hand mixing and pouring concrete, building or repairing picnic tables, etc. There was no end to the things that needed to be done there.
bathhouse, collecting trash, hand mixing and pouring concrete, building or repairing picnic tables, etc. There was no end to the things that needed to be done there.
Work at the campground for the day would generally finish with some seasonally appropriate fun activity and a milkshake from Dairy Queen on the ride back to our mother’s house. Over one particular year, I attempted to try every flavor they offered and succeeded.
However, I remember one Saturday that was distinctly different from our norm. After completing our morning tasks, an elderly neighbor needed to move a refrigerator to her basement. Normally that would be no issue for my father and his teenage sons. Unfortunately, the stairs to this lady’s basement were steep and extremely narrow. They also made two 90-degree turns as they descended.
With no dolly, we manhandled the refrigerator down the steps and around the turns into the lady’s basement. Slowly down the rickety wooden steps, step by step. It was certainly a challenge. She was very grateful and offered my father payment for the job. He refused and we headed home with our customary stop for a milkshake.
This was just one of numerous times my father enlisted our free labor in helping his friends or neighbors through the years. I am certain there were many, many more times he did something for someone without our assistance.
These tasks were never about him, or us, getting something in return. They were simple acts of friendship or a neighbor helping a neighbor. It was an important lesson for my brothers and I. One that made a lasting impression on us.
As an adult, I have tried to carry on the tradition my father taught us. I have also tried to pass it on to my children. I have been fairly successful in my efforts. The funny thing is it wasn’t that difficult. I had some serious support in my mission.
When I moved to Bridgeport, I found a town that believed strongly in neighbors helping neighbors. Most importantly, we still believe in it today. I see countless examples of this selfless mindset every day in our community.
At the end of July, my friend and fellow Councilman Don Burton called me after he spotted a bear crossing Stout Street and headed our way. He wanted to warn us to keep an eye on my wife’s little dog. Immediately, my wife called the neighbors on our street to let them know. Not long after, Connect-Bridgeport published an article alerting the whole community.
Don’s call was just one small act. But it was truly appreciated and was passed forward. I feel certain that many calls like Don’s occurred that day, a cascade of concern and caution from one neighbor to another throughout the city.
Mowing a neighbor’s grass, shoveling snow from an elderly person’s sidewalk, helping search for a missing pet, etc. These and so many similar acts of kindness occur all around Bridgeport daily. Whether small or large, these simple gestures mean a lot.
Why Bridgeport? Unfortunately, the principle of neighbor helping neighbor was not always typical where I grew up and lived. From my 
experience, the larger the city the less people look out for each other. I am so grateful to live in a community where people still care about each other.
experience, the larger the city the less people look out for each other. I am so grateful to live in a community where people still care about each other.
I have lived in several larger cities across our state. Many good people live in those cities. However, those cities do not have a pervasive sense of the importance of neighbors helping neighbors
West Virginia, as a whole, and the cities I mentioned are still far and away better than most other places in our country, but things are changing. Over the years, even in West Virginia, I have watched many towns lose their sense of community, and people’s desire to be there for their neighbors has dwindled.
We are blessed that Bridgeport is still a place where we support, encourage, and help each other. My hope and prayer is that we never change that frame of mind. Our strength lies in our ability to work together as a group. To look out for each other and be there when the need arises.
In the words of a wise man, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” (Matthew 22:39)
That is the kind of community I want for my family. For my children, grandchildren, and the generations to come. That is what I want for the future of Bridgeport.
Editor's Note: Photo of bear running through Bridgeport July 24 taken by Tiffany Criss Adams. Next two photos show, first, the KOA Greenberry Farm office building and the KOA barn on the property formerly handled by Jon Griffith's father.
Leave a Comment
Log in or create an account to post a comment.