Images of perfect neighborhoods dominate sales pitches for houses in Highlands Ranch. The community is perceived as a great place to raise kids, and for some buyers and new residents, a utopian vision of every neighbor knowing your name and waving reigns within dreams of how life will be.

Rarely, anywhere, does that come true. But one cul de sac changed that.

In the last couple of years, Coyote Street has had some scary times: a murder-suicide of a young mother and her estranged husband Aug. 6, 2007; a house fire started by an errant candle in a child's room; the departure of one of the neighborhood "kids" to Iraq as a U.S. Marine; a neighbor's death from cystic fibrosis April 16.

The house where Mario Estrada killed Kelly Estrada and then himself has a new family. "Little Rion" cq has a newly refurbished room after the fire and U.S. Marine Sgt. Ryan Nichols is back from Iraq through Friday.

Life on Coyote Street has returned to normal, with yellow ribbons for Nichols fluttering in the breeze.

Children ride bicycles with training wheels in the end of the cul de sac. Older children kick soccer balls.

Communication is handled with e-mails and phone calls more often than front yard chats.

When Chris Danskin lost a lifelong battle with cystic fibrosis and emergency vehicles lined the street, an e-mail told the block what had happened and asked them to respect his wife's privacy.

So how does a neighborhood built in the late 1980s and early 1990s go from housing tract to a circle of friends who can call upon one another?

It is work, points out resident Greg Giesen, who coordinates the neighborhood watch.

Three or four people keep the 27 families updated with news from the street and the sheriff's office. They also organize block parties and get-togethers throughout the year, from the annual National Night Out party to a cookie exchange, Kentucky Derby parties and a ladies' night out.

When snow falls, clearing a cul de sac is not a county priority, so residents get together and clear driveways and the street itself.

Tragedy, Giesen said, only highlights the communal spirit on the block.

When Ryan Nichols left for Iraq, his mother, Kris, tied a yellow ribbon to her tree in the front yard.

Within a week, ribbons sprang up on aspens, pines and maples up and down the road.

Just before Christmas, Ashley Nichols, Ryan's sister, made a film about the neighborhood for him.

"I had no idea all the neighbors had put up ribbons," Ryan Nichols said. "I was watching the film, and I could tell it was cold, but there was not a lot of snow."

Nichols did see snow in Iraq, the first snow in the area in a half-century.

"It was also the day I got my promotion," he said with a laugh.

A neighborhood watch program spurred the residents to compile a directory with e-mail addresses and telephone numbers of everyone on the street, and neighbors use it regularly.

Mostly, it is the everyday bit of assistance, or advice, or the wave as one drives or walks by that makes Coyote Street feel warm and relatively safe.

Suzanne Wolf, a teacher, gets reminders from a man down the street to change the filters in her heating and air conditioning system.

Noelle Robinson organized assistance for the Wallace family when they had a small fire.

Heidi Wallace cannot control the emotion in her voice as she talks about the aftermath of the house fire.

"People just gave and gave," she said, voice cracking, and tears welling in her eyes. "Rion's room was badly damaged, more from water than the fire, and people gave him clothes and toys. After the fire, we learned the mortgage company was not paying insurance premiums. Who would have thought that the silver lining would be the neighbors?"

Robinson lives at the start of Coyote and is one of three strategically placed people who keep news flowing along the street. The others are on the end and center of the road.

About two houses a year sell, bringing in new neighbors.

Luck has been on Coyote Street's side.

"We have great neighbors who are community minded," Giesen said. "But really, what we have on Coyote Street should be the norm for Highlands Ranch."

* Written by Robyn Lydick of the Highlands Ranch Herald