I was born and raised in Arkansas, and I still live in deep brown recluse territory. It's a "out of sight, out of mind" deal with the 8-legged friends. Subconsciously you know they're around -- I could find several in my garage if I wanted to, and probably some in the closets of my house -- but they're reclusive by nature, hence the name, and tend to stay out of the way. My uncle got bit on the arm by one while bringing some firewood inside one winter. A course of oral and local antibiotics from a veterinarian friend and all he had to show after a week was a small scar.