Strong Fences Make Good Neighbors

The Road

It was Spring 1983 when we bought our Home. We were both excited and
apprehensive. The Bank had lent us the money, them being the biggest
skeptics. We had put everything we had as a down payment. I was Ill at
the time, walking Pneumonia. The added pressure of being House Poor had
to be dealt with.  We were like babes in a toy-land. It was
indeed an adventure. We had come out on weekends from Manhattan to work
on the house. It was in move in condition but our plans were not
working  so adjustments were made to our lives. We are both
Pennsylvania Boys and always thought it was pretty and had an
interesting terrain. Little did we know that all that glitters is not
Gold. We were beginning to witness the ugly under belly of what would
become a Saga and quite the education.
We share a road to our home with a neighbor. In our agreement of sale,
it was stipulated that they acknowledge the Right Of Way. They refused
to. We were at a closing with a teary eyed elderly widow who was
pondering the reality we would walk away. Our Lawyer , who we had hired
was doing it on the side hadn't shown up as promised. She worked for a
Large Bank and was indifferent other then getting paid. Anyway we
settled, got the widow and her son to sign a statement that they had
used the road since 1925 with no interruption of use. We felt we are
easy to get along with. The Realtor kept trying to convince us the a
Prescriptive Easement and Adverse Possession would hold up in Court.
Also the two properties were one at one time—being that the neighboring
home is 200  years old, the same age as our as our Stone Barn.    The
evening of the closing we went next door and introduced ourselves to
our neighbors, the one we share the road with. It was awkward. The wife
was a retired school teacher and the husband fashioned himself as a
gentlemen farmer since he had a Nursery on the property.  When they
asked us if we had want a
Drink. Scott asked for a Campari and soda and they had it...odd. The
husband
had volunteered to collect our mail which we said was not necessary,
but he insisted. After living in Manhattan for more than a decade, you
forget the being gay even matters. However we had to be reminded that it
does. We have been reminded why we moved to NYC  after college.


Does anyone see any Red Flags? The only one we saw was
the Twinkle in our male neighbors eye?