Among television trivia buffs, the short list of neighbors who are also friends usually begins with Ralph Cramden and Ed Norton of Honeymooners fame; Fred Sanford and Don “Bubba” Bexley of Sanford and Son; and that wacky duo, Joey and Chandler, from the sitcom, Friends.
But real-life characters are more compelling, and at the Oak Park Arms, the list is topped by 90-years-young John Heflin and his longtime next-door neighbor and friend, Delbert Elmore, 88.
These two southern gentlemen have been neighbors and friends for almost 50 years. It all started on the 1800 block of South Karlov in Chicago’s Douglas Park neighborhood, and now after a four-year hiatus, they have been reunited as residents at the Oak Park Arms retirement community.
The reunion took place this summer when Elmore’s adult children, William and Aluria, were searching for a safe, secure, comfortable community in which their dad could reside. As it turns out, an apartment opened up at the Oak Park Arms, right next door to John Heflin, Elmore’s longtime neighbor, who had moved to the retirement community in 2006, and since then had been cajoling his old friend to join him.
“I thought he’d never come,” Heflin said as he and Elmore sat at a table in a lounge surrounded by veteran memorabilia at the Oak Park Arms on a recent snowy Saturday in December.
But everything fell together and Elmore moved in.
Since then, Heflin and Elmore haven’t missed a beat. They discuss the pros and cons of everything, ever cracking jokes at their own and each other’s expense, and, of course, continuing to be neighborly, as they have for most of their adult lives.
“Here at the Oak Park Arms, we often say the best neighbors are our friends,” says Jill Wagner, marketing director. “It took Delbert four years to join his old neighbor at his new address, but he came, and I don’t think it was just fate. When John and Delbert reunited, they have been inseparable ever since.”
Early years
Born in Birmingham, Ala., in a family of 10 children, Heflin came to Chicago via Kentucky. In the 1920s, the Heflin clan moved to the Bluegrass State to find work in the coal mines. When the Great Depression shut down the coal mining industry, Heflin headed to Chicago.
In 1942, John and Delbert were both drafted. During WWII, Heflin was a bugler, army engineer, and T-5 corporal. Deployed to Scotland, England, Belgium, Germany and France, his most memorable battles were Normandy and the crossing of the Mosel River. During war time, one of his jobs was to disassemble the “booby traps” enemy troops had planted, including land mines. He also helped build bridges.
Elmore was born in Holly Springs, Miss., one of seven children, and served his country in the Army Air Corps in India and Burma, where he traveled to Bombay and Calcutta. As a private first class, he was stationed in combat zones, living among snakes and dangerous animals and witnessing many casualties. One of his most vivid memories was when he and his unit were on a convoy of boats and the Japanese attacked.
“It was prayer time, not prank time,” he recalls. All involved received the Battle Zone Award.
Post WWII, Elmore returned to his wife, Alma, in Mississippi, and soon after moved north to Chicago.
In 1945, Heflin met his future wife, Lorraine, and they were married in 1949.
“She punched me,” Heflin laughs, “and I knew what it meant.”
In 1956, the Elmores purchased a three-flat on the 1800 block of Karlov, and in 1962, the Heflins moved into an apartment next door. Lorraine and Alma became fast friends, so he and Heflin had no choice but to be friends, Elmore says, smiling.
“We’ve always done neighborly things, rake each other’s leaves, shovel snow, oversee the houses,” Elmore says. “My yard was his yard, and John was always a good neighbor. For others, that is not always the case.”
Delbert’s daughter, Aluria, recalls that the 1800 block of Karlov, even during the turbulent 1960s, was an oasis of safety, security and love. The tight-knit neighborhood was anchored by Original Providence Baptist Church and fortified by an extremely involved congregation of neighbors and friends who did things together — holidays, block club meetings, neighborhood parties, banquets and so on. The adults subscribed to the adage, “It takes a village to raise a child” and didn’t succumb to the cultural chaos beyond the parameters of their block.
“I’m sure it is just human nature to be in an area where you can find love and be respected, but in that time, respect for African Americans was a totally different ballgame than it is now,” says the 60-year-old mother of three adult daughters who now resides in Los Angeles. “On that block you actually felt like you were someone, and you knew who you were.
“It’s the truth. I didn’t know anything about gangs or drugs until I got to college,” says Aluria. “On my block growing up, everybody knew everybody, and I couldn’t come out the door without everyone knowing everything I was doing.”
She notes that every child had a mother and a father, and they remained married for 40, 50 even 60 years. She remembers that Mr. Heflin and his wife didn’t have any children, so he became everybody’s Dad.
“What we experienced, is not what is written in the textbooks now,” she says, “or in the newspapers. It was totally different, and my parents, as well as the Heflins, were a big part in creating that world for me. Really, I wouldn’t have made it without Mr. Heflin. He’s a beautiful man. Both of them, their whole lives, they have been very blessed.”
Heflin softly adds that through the years, he and Elmore experienced many things together — including the passing of their wives.
Together again
Now that the two old friends are reunited overlooking Oak Park Avenue, it’s like the old days on South Karlov. They eat meals together and while away the hours in community, chatting it up with their mainstay neighbors, Ron, Chuck and Howard. They still attend all kinds of “neighborhood” activities: socials, wine and cheese-tasting parties, and birthday parties, usually interjecting a wry comment, followed by a slow southern smile, which brings about chuckles and creates a sense of ease.
“When we had our weddings-to-remember event,” Wagner says, “John pulled out Lorraine’s wedding dress. Of all the things to move here. He has no space, but he still brought that dress. What a class act.”
As Oak Park Arms’ 2009 prom king, Heflin has been sharing every aspect of his “castle” with his new/old neighbor and friend. At this point, they have no reason not to be friends, John says with a smile. Elmore agrees.
“We are still taking care of each other, but there just is not a lot to take care of these days,” Elmore says, as always, smiling.
