When I was coming up, we lived on several different properties, all owned by Momma’s or Pop’s families. We lived on the north end of ’Fuskie, and we lived on the south end.
Islanders weren’t strict about property lines—except on one old plantation owned by folks from across the water. As children, we wandered where we wanted, and folks didn’t worry about vandalism, because they didn’t build resentment with fences. We put up fences to keep animals in, not to keep people out. And when someone’s cow got loose, a neighbor would let the owner know where it was—or simply return it.