This was something I had wanted to do for a long time. I sat on my front porch with a steaming hot cup of cleaver coffee in my hand and watched the sun burn through the fog. They would begin to arrive soon - or not. Would they? I was fairly certain John Rose's sense of honor and manhood would compel him to talk to those he knew and to show up, but would anyone else? My history of collaborative enterprises and persuading people did not fill me with gleeful anticipation. I'd only really had one steadfast collaborator in my life, and that was the woman still in bed above me who had internally rolled her eyes when I told her what I was up to. Our current circumstances and events over the last five years had lent quite a bit of credence to my "doomerist ravings" but getting to know the neighbors? Why? Who does that? It's just so not American.

But when we had gone to the store to pick up some fruits we couldn't grow on our half-acre and some cleaning supplies and found nothing of use to us on the shelves, I had decided then and there that I could not indulge our antisocial predilections any longer. This was the last decisive sign that the central order had broken down, a central order that had protected thriving markets for four hundred years. Now not only could we not rely on the power grid or the communications grid, but we could not even rely on interstate commerce.

The Capitalists had failed us. No, they had betrayed us.

John was the first to arrive. He was not accompanied by his son this time; nor was he alone. A tall blonde woman strode beside him, her bearing betraying far more self-assurance than his. She looked angry, determined. She was taking my measure as she conquered my territory.

I glanced down at my phone: 0748. They were early. I nodded to myself. He had validated my assessment.

They stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Hi, Nick," John said with a wave and a smile. "This is my wife Lisa. She wanted to come."

"Yes," Lisa cut in, and she smiled. It was a genuine smile and it changed her entire appearance. She no longer made me feel like a Baltic peasant facing down a Nordic chieftain, but rather like a favorite shopkeeper. "I wanted to thank you for what you did for our family." She squeezed John's hand. "And to see why you wanted to get us all together. My curiosity was driving me crazy."

By this time, more people were arriving. They came in ones and twos, sometimes as a group, and a few with children. But they came. "Well I'm glad you came," I said to Lisa Rose, "and I'm glad John knocked on my door. This needed to be done, and if he hadn't, I might never have been impelled to do it."

Behind the Rose couple, a small crowd had assembled. I estimated 50 houses in our neighborhood, and it looked like at least a third of them were represented here - maybe as many as two-thirds - by a head count as rough as my dog's paw pads. Faces anxious and curious, suspicious and blank, hopeful and open, like satellite dishes tracking a signal. I wondered if my wife would venture from the house. I wondered if the dog was barking her head off.

"Thank you for coming," I finally addressed the group when everyone within line of sight was within earshot. "I've often thought of having a neighborhood block party on a summer Saturday afternoon, but we're just not that social. Meeting the neighbors seems almost quaint and old-fashioned." The little joke played well. "But it's not just about beer, ribs and gossip anymore. It's about survival." Heads bobbed. Some gazes dropped to the ground. I raised my voice.

"Our meter hasn't moved in two weeks. No cable for ten days." My neighbors confirmed the same for them. "Some of us have generators or solar panels. Some might have satellite dishes pointed at the right satellites. I have a radio tower. Our cell phones might or might not have signal on any given day.

"And I'm sure you all have seen the grocery stores this week. The food ran out and it doesn't look like shipments are coming. What are we going to do?" They all had the same question. Now I could see who was truly terrified and who was still feeling ok about their situation.

"Some of you might be thinking, 'oh, they'll restock the shelves in a day or two. It will be all right. The power will be back any day now. The cable company will get the internet going again. This is America, the greatest country on earth. We'll be fine." I looked at each person in turn, tried to read who was thinking that way. Many were. Then I shook my head.

"Those days are gone. And I think in your hearts you all know that. We've truly entered a new age, and we need to understand it. I'm pretty sure I know what we face, and I have a pretty good idea of how we can make it."

(To Be Continued)