Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I know that you either loved Mr. Rogers or disliked him, but he taught all of us what a neighborhood could be.

Instead of Mr. McFeeley, I have Dominic the mailman. He rubberbands our mail before he slips it through the slot, and when the door is open, I am certain to hear a cheery "Hey!" from him. I bet some people on his route don't know that he's a great gardener or that he is allergic to that "stuff" people put on their lawns to kill the weeds. Everybody does know that he does a great job, gives every dog on his route a treat almost every day, and knows all the kids and what time they come home from school. He knows who everybody works for, and I swear, who's naughty or nice.

Speaking of naughty or nice, there's a private detective who lives across the street from me. He's Air Force Retired, and has his share of stories and medals. The kids love him, too. We've been calling him Hawkeye because he stations himself in his driveway with a telescope and a lawn chair to watch the baby hawks hatch, grow and fledge in the pine tree next to my house. His wife loves animals, too, and she puts out water for the birds every day. She used to feed the squirrels, too, until they got too destructive and numerous. Now the hawk takes care of the squirrel population...and the bunnies, too.

Mr. and Mrs. E..... live next door to us, on the other side of the hawk's pine tree. They are neighborly enough to let my kids run around in our adjacent back yards. Sometimes they'll babysit in a pinch, and they have their own grandchildren to worry about! Mr. E..... just got a heart valve replaced at the Cleveland Clinic. Yesterday he mowed his own lawn for the first time in three years. I stood up and applauded when I saw him. He looks so much healthier and his wife is so much less worried. He's another one of my witnessed miracles.

The guy who makes the bagels and his family live across the street next to the private detective. They are from Long Island and are always working hard. One day Mrs. Bagel went out and returned home to find ... no Mr. Bagel. When she left, he was working on turning their attic into a playroom. Mr. Bagel can survive for hours on no sleep; he's just amazing. Anyway, Mrs. Bagel was frantic to return home and not hear construction noises from the upper floor. She ran up the steps and discovered Mr. Bagel on his back. Frightened, she ran towards his prone body..."MR. BAGEL! MR. BAGEL"...no response. She shook him...and...woke him up...He had fallen asleep on the floor amidst all his tools and lumber. Happily, he was just at the outer limits of his lack of sleep meter. Sure scared her, though.