Memories of the Midwest
My almost summer-long stay in this great Heart of the American Heartland — Ames, Iowa — has nearly ended. In a few days, I’ll be trekking back to California to resume “the rest” of my life. But while I’m regretfully leaving behind this quintessential Midwestern university town, I’m going West with some indelible memories.
The Drawings on the Sidewalk: One morning, I was walking along Clark Avenue north of Old Town when I encountered colorful chalk drawings on a sidewalk and entry walk in front of a house. The images were lovely, and the words that accompanied them were inspiring. “Be happy with who God made you to be.” “It’s okay to be different even if it’s hard.” “We’re all broken but alive in Christ.” Even though I know that Ames is an educated, progressive community, I was amazingly touched by the simple, loving messages that seem so obvious but which are so incredibly difficult for some in our society to accept.
Donating the Tim Allen Tickets: A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to win tickets to comedian Tim Allen’s stand-up comedy routine that was headed to Ames. (Thanks very much, KASI Radio and Trent Rice.) As that Friday night show time approached, none of my friends was available to go, and I was in a quandary about what to do with my “extra” tickets.
So Friday afternoon, I walked downtown to the Ames library (it’s only a couple of blocks away) and strolled to the checkout desk. I asked a library employee if she knew anyone who’d like free tickets to see Allen. Without hesitation — not even a second’s worth — she said, “Follow me.” We went into the nearby auditorium, where volunteers were processing books that were going to be sold to benefit the library the next day.
The librarian stood in the middle of that big room and said, “May I have your attention, please? This gentleman has two free tickets to the Tim Allen show tonight. Does anyone want to go?”
Immediately, a woman to my left raised her hand and shouted, “Yes!” So I walked up to her and gave her the tickets, reassuring her that they were legitimate and that I wasn’t kidding. She was nearly crying as she told me how she had tried to win tickets to see Allen from a Des Moines radio station, but had failed.
That night, as I was in my seat just before the start of the show, she walked in with her nephew, sat beside me and handed me a card. She had penned, “Thank you so very much for the tickets. This is something I really wanted to see but did not feel I could afford the tickets.” Yes, she had me in tears because, you see, I should have been the one to thank her — for showing me again, as so many other Iowans have, that thing called “Iowa nice.”
And, yes, I have Wilma’s card on my desk as I write this. And, yes, Tim Allen killed.
The Iowa Hawkeyes’ Salute to Kids: There it was, on the front page of the Des Moines Register a few Saturdays ago — a story about the new “tradition” at Kinnick Stadium in Iowa City. It seems that University of Iowa fans had just begun something that promises to endure forever. At the end of every first quarter at Iowa home football games, every fan in the stadium stands and turns and waves to children inside a recently built hospital just to the east of the stadium. The kids watch the games from windows on the top few floors of the hospital.
Every. Single. Fan. Sending love and, perhaps, hope, to those sick kids. Yeah. That “Iowa nice” thing again.
Fareway’s Helping Hands: We have a little neighborhood market near our Old Town condo. It’s a Fareway store, and it’s been in our neighborhood for a half-century. Sharon and I shopped there when we first lived here in the late ’70’s, and when we started coming back to Ames a few years ago, it was not only still here — it still looks exactly the same. And for all that time, Fareway has maintained a tradition that I’ve never seen or heard about at any other grocery outlet anywhere.
When your groceries have been bagged, the bag-boy or man will wheel your cart out to your car. Always. Normally, when someone at a store of some kind or another asks if I “need help,” I’m offended because, well, while I look old and am old, I can still carry my own bags, thank you very much. But Fareway’s people are not asking whether you need help — they’re simply providing, as part of your shopping experience, the locomotion to get your groceries into the trunk of your vehicle. They do this for every customer, no matter how old he or she is. They did it for Sharon, way back when she was a child bride. And they will do it for her again, when she becomes a retired bride. “Iowa nice.”
The Ames High School Homecoming Parade: Yes, I among the hordes who jammed the sidewalks and curbs along Main Street a couple of Monday nights ago to watch the annual Ames High homecoming parade — one of the first events of Homecoming Week. And promptly at 6:30 p.m., marchers began their trek eastbound on Main from Clark. There were hundreds of students on numerous floats and inside vehicles, of course — along with the 300-member high school marching band — but the most impressive sight involved the school’s varsity football team. Some members of the team rode by on floats — but others — including the team quarterback — walked along the parade route, going back and forth across Main to hand out candy to small children who were standing with their parents. And the children’s faces showed their joy at getting “this close” to a football hero. Yep. “Iowa nice.”
The Bank’s “Thank You”: It was no big deal, and it only took a few minutes, but I helped some friends who had a minor banking issue a few weeks ago. Sure enough, a couple of days later, I was surprised when a delivery guy brought a giant inflated balloon with “thanks” written all over it — attached to a bag of freshly baked chocolate muffins. A card came with all that. It contained a handwritten note: “Thanks for assisting (friends’ names). It was very appreciated.”
Well, Kathryn, you honestly overwhelmed me with that gift. I really had done nothing — nothing at all — to deserve it. But thank YOU. (Oh, yes. Kathryn is from my friends’ Ames bank — a bank which I have no relationship with and have never been inside. “Iowa nice.”)
Young Men Working and the Old Man Watching: A few mornings ago, my jaunt took me toward Maxwell and 14th streets. As I approached, I heard the sounds of construction. My curiosity was piqued, and as I got to the intersection, I saw eight Ames employees, in the process of ripping up part of 14th so they could install new curbs. I was fascinated by the men and their equipment, so I stood and watched for a bit.
After a while, I realized what was happening: Here I was, an old, retired guy, doing what I have always joked that old, retired guys do — stand around and gaze at much younger guys performing the hard, physical labor the older guys no longer could. So I started walking away, and as I did, I noticed one of the workers glancing at me. I gave him a little wave — and he waved back. Then the guy working beside him saw what had happened, so he waved, as well. “Iowa nice.”
Those Squirrels and Rabbits: In my walks in and around and through the Old Town neighborhoods these past weeks, I’ve always been pleased to see all the squirrels and rabbits that scamper across the lawns of the historic homes. Of course, whenever I’ve approached, they’ve scattered — apparently not believing my soothing reassurances that I would never harm them.
But in recent days, as our mornings have chilled and autumn has truly taken over, the squirrels have become bolder. Now, as I approach — even though they can easily hear me because of the leaves I’m crunching under my feet — they often let me get closer than they used to. It’s not that they’ve suddenly realized I’m truly a nice guy — but because they sense the approach of winter. So they continue digging their holes to bury the acorns they have in their mouths — even as I walk right past them.
Truly, I hope those critters survive whatever Mother Nature brings this winter. I’d like to see them again next spring when I return — and I’d somehow like to know that they’re the same little animals that I saw — and that saw me — these past weeks.
Yes, my idyllic stay in this delightful town of Ames is almost over. It’s always difficult to leave, but it’s especially tough to depart this time of year, when autumn is in full swing and our days are nothing short of gorgeous. I’ve often said that fall in the Midwest is better than autumn anywhere else in these United States, and nothing I’ve encountered this time around has changed my mind. Our temperatures are now hovering in the low 70’s during our sparkling clear daytimes and descend to the upper 40’s at night. It’s perfect.
And, weather aside, this is the best time of year around these parts because of the approach of Halloween. Lots of folks already have outfitted their yards with pumpkins and ghosts and headstones and lights, and many more will do so after my departure. Perhaps next year we’ll stay through October. Snow generally doesn’t start flying around here until late November or early December, so we’d still have time to motor back West after spending all summer and half of autumn here.
I’m leaving, but something wonderful will travel with me — great and, I hope, enduring memories of grocery bag boys and high school quarterbacks and college football fans and children with chalk who have all taken their turns showing off that thing called “Iowa nice.” This state may not be heaven — but it will do.