I live on a gravel road in rural Missouri on a small farm of 10 acres. When we bought this place we had mostly great neighbors. Most of them had children close in age to our own and they became fast friends, connections that are still strong today. It was peaceful here. Years passed, the kids grew up and moved on to other places, the older neighbors died off, and a few moved away. They were replaced by some quite unsavory characters whose greatest pleasure in life seems to be roaring up and down the road on 4 wheelers at all hours of the night as well as destroying the land they live on. They drug a trailer in across the road immediately dropping the value on our property. Last year we installed a privacy fence all across the front and it does help with the dust and noise. There's only us and a lovely widow lady just down the road left now. It's sad really. I don't like my neighbors and at times find them not only irritating, but also frightening. I would not be amiss in calling them meth heads and the one we have dubbed Mad Max has even been busted for that. No one could appreciate having neighbors like I have. But I love this old farm and have been here for 40 years. I refuse to be run off by a bunch of crazies down the road. Truly they don't deserve to be called neighbors.