The usual headlines announce: “Father shoots his children and then himself.” Or, “He is a lying lowlife and the worst person ever.” Or, “California fires are the new norm.” Or, “Lifting bans on drilling proposed for California coast.” (Thank you, Secretary of the Interior, Ryan Zinke). Or, “Build that wall and keep out the M-13s.”
On and on it goes. Tired of it all? Dread picking up the daily paper or clicking on your television news? Welcome to the good news column. This afternoon, driving my car through town, a pedestrian nodded at me and said “thank you,” when, obeying the law, I allowed her to cross the street,
At Best Buy in Santa Rosa, a pleasant young employee, perhaps 20 years old, showed me where the small Sony transistor radios were displayed, and took the time to open the box, assuring me that it was exactly like the one I had bought early in the summer. I wanted to buy another for a birthday gift.
Last week my daughter and I hauled the farm garbage up to the recycling station and usually we both fling bag after bag into the collection of America’s leftover stuff, which will be on this earth long after our species is extinct. But, this time, a Latino gentleman who was working at the same task next to us, stopped what he was doing and insisted upon hopping onto the back of my truck and toss off all the bags.
“I will do this!” he said and he did. I reached out to shake his hand and thank him. He took mine. Both our hands were grimy from hard work and it was a joyful moment.
Since the zucchini festival was last week, I was reminded of the years when Joel and I were responsible for transporting the zucchini race track from our farm into the market parking lot and back again.
We also loaned the track to the Windsor Farmers’ Market in those days before they built their own track. After market one year at Windsor, the organizers loaded the track onto the back of my truck and tied it down. It comes in three separate pieces and needs careful positioning.
As I drove onto Old Redwood Highway, speeding up ever so slightly, I saw a dangerous shift of the load in my rear view mirror. Pulling over to the side of the road, I got out and found that the largest part of the track was hanging over the side of the truck. The volunteers had placed the steepest part of the track in the wrong direction so the wind had caught it and lifted it off balance. The whole thing had to be reloaded.
I stood at the side of the road watching all the cars zooming by, their drivers uninterested in the obvious trouble this lady was facing. As I was attempting to figure out how to do this reloading all by myself (impossible), a car stopped behind me and two Mexican fellows got out.
They didn’t speak any English but they didn’t have to. They understood exactly what needed to be done and did it. They removed all the three tied-together track parts and reloaded it correctly. I had no more trouble getting back to the farm.
I gave them some market scrip and asked them to please come to our market so that I could thank them with produce but I never saw them again.
Today, in the daily paper, buried on page three, there is a story of the elderly couple who apparently started the Carr Fire in Redding, by driving on a flat tire. The article said that they were feeling terrible about their causing such a disaster.
Someone related their sorrow on Facebook and the public reacted by sending them sympathy cards and messages assuring them that it wasn’t their fault.
So much thoughtfulness out there, every day and everywhere, but it won’t be a news item anywhere. “I found your little radio out by the log pile, Gramma. I heard it playing but you weren’t there! So, I brought it inside and it’s on the table,” explained seven-year-old Harper.
That, too, won’t be a chilling headline, but it will warm your heart.
Renee Kiff weeds and writes at her family farm in Alexander Valley.
