...l Road, named after the original settlers of the area. Others insisted it as the Tibbits road, so named because half of the people ho live on the road are from the Tibbits family. Its also been called the Raleigh Road after the family that built the house Im living in. Recently, I heard it referred to as the Hatch road - I dont kno the origin of that one. All in all, the consensus as that there as no consensus, and any maps shoing the road leave it unnamed. I do have a mailing address, hich consists of a rural route number and a box number, but Ive found that this is of little help hen someone is attempting to actually find the house. The first time I got UPS and FedEx packages, I got calls from the drivers asking just here the heck I as located. The same held true hen I got oil delivered. hen I ordered the oil, I told them I lived on the Kimball Hill Road in hopes that this name ould someho ring a bell, but it only confused them al the more. On the oil bill here the dispatcher had typed directions to the house, the reference to the Kimball Hill Road as scratched out and above it someone had ritten end of road past Tibbits house. Indeed, it appears that the reason the road has gone this long ithout a name is because people in these small tons identify a house not be here it is, but by ho is living there. I live in the Raleigh house, plain and simple. I as talking to a guy I kno ho gre up in the area some 20 years or so ago, and as I as attempting to describe here I as living, he said, Oh, so you live in the Raleigh house, and proceeded to describe every other house on the road in terms of its occupants. In the course of 20 years, it seems I as the only necomer to the road. hen I ent to vote this past November, I again faced the no name problem. Since I had just moved to the area I had to register to vote and, of course, they ant to kno here it is you live. Once again I had to go through the complicated motions of describing here the street as in relation to everything else and here the house as on the street. After a fe minutes of explaining that seemed to be getting me nohere, the lady ho as registering me said, Oh, you live on my street. And that is ho I came to meet Mrs. Tibbits. As it turns out, Mrs. Tibbits is a very good lady to kno. Last month, during the ice storm, I made the mistake of attempting to venture into ork. After pulling out of my driveay, my vehicle decided to dance don the ice-covered hill on my unnamed road ithout much regard for here I as steering it. About half ay don the hill, it finally came to a stop, the front facing into a sno bank and the rest of the vehicle straddled across the road. I asnt going anyhere until the sand truck shoed up to tame the icy road surface. After a rather comical adventure of getting myself and my dog back up the icy hill to the house, I decided to see if there as anyone I could call to expedite the arrival of a sand truck. It as still early, so my attempts at reaching anyone ere futile. And besides, once I did reach someone, I ouldnt be able to tell them hich road I as stuck on anyay - it doesnt have a name! About an hour and a half later, I did manage to get through to the Jackson Ton Hall, and, lo and behold, it as the aforementioned Mrs. Tibbits ho ansered. No there ould be no problem explaining here I lived. Mrs. Tibbits explained that the sand trucks had been out since 3 a.m. and there as no ay she could find out here they ere no, but that she ould make some phone calls and see hat she could do. Fifteen minutes later, I heard the seet rumble of the sand truck coming don the road. He not only sanded the road, but he hooked up a to chain and pulled me out of the sno bank. From no on, I think Ill just say I live on the Tibbits road...
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