What can make Cheyenne a great city? Helping each other on snowy November day is a good start

BY MADGE MIDGLEY

You may have noticed my previous articles in this publication are a little different. I am not highly political, but I am observant of the world around me, and I've made a self-commitment to not write about our town unless I have a solution to a problem or I see something awesome worth writing about.

Rumor has it my last submission pissed people off, which is great! (“The owners of Cheyenne's liquor stores have an obligation to help clean up the Capital City's mess,” Oct. 3, https://cutt.ly/Ce6RlJP) Feel what you want to feel. Express it. Make a comment. Look me up and send an email. Maybe a productive conversation can happen.  

I'm still going to be here, being me with big ideas and dreams of this elusive community cooperation that

Snow fell heavily in late November in Cheyenne.

doesn't require the main leader. I am writing this today because my neighborhood was blessed by that kind of experience.

On Nov. 26, we had had snow to deal with within the city of Cheyenne and across the Front Range. I will give some accolades to Mayor Marian Orr for shutting the city down the two days leading up to the Thanksgiving holiday due to weather. 

I will note that she took appreciation of University of Wyoming leadership on her Twitter account when they decided to cancel classes so that students would have ample time to travel without trying to make it through the storm. It seems like a courtesy that many probably appreciated, so I will appreciate vicariously this way.

Anyway, Nature dumped upon us around 12 inches, if not more, of the good ole white fluffy sky confetti, and if you have ever owned a tall vehicle with a built-in roof rack, you know what a pain that is in the snow removal department. 

I got up and shoveled the walks and tried to clear a path for visitors. I knew I wasn't making any plans to leave, but brushed off my vehicle in case more snow was predicted. Then I went in and drank some coffee like ya do.

Due to being a full-time caregiver, I don't leave very often, and when I do, I don't travel much farther than the west side of town. I know the sound of every car on this block. I know if it has an automatic car alarm; I know when their vehicle is failing. Really though, I know about frequency and vibration, and vehicles are oftentimes the most obvious external physical extension one has to express themselves.

I've gotten so keen to these sounds that I know when it is the delivery driver or the mail truck or a lost person who sits for minutes on end at the stop sign in front of my house while they search for the place they are looking for. I know when there is drama on my side of town by the building squeal of sirens coming from first responders. I know the difference between a fire and a road accident.

We live in a reality of frequency and vibration. Some of it is beyond obvious into the obnoxious. Some of it is subtle. I am not sure how self-aware individuals are to know if they know the difference. But I do. I can't avoid it.

When I heard a large vehicle revving and slipping down my road more than once, I had to see for myself what the heck was happening.

I went out to the bottom of my driveway to see what I could see.  And lo and behold, some dude was driving a rented CAT plow down my residential road. Neighbors were busy shoveling and those who weren't, packed on their snow gear and went out to see what was going on.

Why?  It's just a dude driving a plow.

The city of Cheyenne doesn’t budget snow removal for residential areas within the city. It hasn't in years. We appear to be only concerned about "main roads."

A few years ago, a good friend came back home from Burlington, Vermont, because her mom had passed and she was helping her father out. A local friend of mine volunteered to drive her to DIA for her departure. The night before we got a slammer of snow.  Needless to say, it took a few routes to get to her house in north Cheyenne because of the hills and snow and low clearance of the vehicle, even if it was a solid front-wheel drive.

She made a comment that I am going to repeat without being politically polarized.

"Burlington is never like this in the residential areas.  In fact, (U.S. Sen.) Bernie Sanders once spent all night driving a snowplow to make sure the job got done."

Cool. Bernie stepped in once and got accolades. Plow drivers probably get a thankful six-pack every now and again. Mayor Orr would probably do it if she felt like it would be good publicity, from what I can tell.  

But that isn't what this article is about.  This article is about self-directed civic service.

As the plow guy drove up and down the road, the neighbors moved closer to him, so they could tell him "thank you" or to ask "Are you from the city?"  

What I heard was a frustrated citizen who decided to use his own money to help himself and his neighbors out.  He probably walked the block to the CAT rental store and drove it from there.

I am not sure how many passes he made to the road. I am not going to say that it was a perfect job because I don't know crap about plowing snow off of roads. I will say the energy and frequency of his gestures were felt through the neighborhood, and it inspired groups of people to grab their shovels and walk in the snow-reflected sunshine, bundled up and good-natured, willing to help a stranger/neighbor.

If heaven and hell are neighborhoods with frequencies and interactions, watching people shovel each other out on a cold day is more bliss than hearing about people in my neighborhood get shot on a hot day while listening to the sirens. On a cold day a joyful chuckle will echo.

No one told these full-grown adults to go help their neighbors. These are the people I want in and running my city. They felt the strong pervasive energy of need and service and did it willingly without expectation. They took effective action with kindness and compassion. This is the city/neighborhood/world I want to live in.

I want to offer a strong "thank you" to those anonymous people who were able to harness their own energy and joy to help others. I want to talk to you, and write about you. You deserve to be known.

With this, I would like to conclude that oftentimes The Golden Rule is censored: "Treat others the way you want to be treated, but treat yourself the way that you would have others treat you."

We live in a prideful world, and it doesn't support asking for help or charity unless there is an agenda. For most people, they have to go to work regardless of travel restrictions and weather, necessity is their agenda. They are normal everyday people. Asking for help is humbling, maybe even humiliating. Most people don't enjoy the feeling of asking for help or feeling vulnerable.   

When individuals in our communities stand up and take action without being asked, they are literally answering unspoken prayers. Some may call it psychic, but I call it "homing in on the human need for which we should all be aware of."

The scenes of assistance on that recent snowy Tuesday give an amplified appreciation of our abilities on all levels to ascertain and know the needs of others and ourselves with a joyful heart.  

May this be more obvious as we move into 2020 vision.

Madge Midgely is a local writer. You can reach her at madgemidley@gmail.com.