I became a full-blown Iowan sometime after I got into that fight with an Oregon gas station manager.
You can’t pump your own gas in Oregon, so when the teenage attendant came over, I asked if I could write a check. Sure, he said, if it’s local.
I’d just moved to Pendleton and my checks had a Minnesota address, I told him, but I lived in town and my bank had a branch just across the street. No worries, he said. I was gassed up and about to leave when the manager came tearing out of the building.
“I’m not taking this check,” she hollered.
Now, I know a business can refuse a check from anyone, especially a shifty-looking person like me, but I’d been raised to believe if you can’t give a person the benefit of the doubt you should at least not go around yelling at them.
Still, I kept my cool — at first. I told her I was a newly forged Oregonian, that I had an actual job at the newspaper and money in the bank — that one right over there. She wasn’t having it.
A year later, when I was trying to decide whether to come home to Iowa, I thought about that manager’s scream-first mentality and the whole Wild West attitude of everyone for themselves. Five years earlier, I’d been eager to get out of my boring home state, but now I missed the green landscape. I missed Iowa Nice.
I’m 35, married, with a school-aged daughter, two dogs and too few hours in the day. I’m no Rockwell engineer, but I’m yours, Iowa, heart and soul.
I’ve been back in Iowa City for six years now and it isn’t perfect, but it’s home — small enough that a person can try a little of everything, vibrant enough that there’s always something new to try. Stop by the public library and you’ll find meeting rooms bursting with clubs, event planners and political organizers.
I’ve been a public safety reporter for The Gazette in Iowa City for the past 18 months. Today, I’m hanging out my shingle as a columnist.
This summer’s disasters left us with a lot of pieces to pick up and an opportunity to think seriously about how we want to rebuild. This is a time for great ideas and even greater effort to implement them.
I don’t have much patience for people who bellyache about how everything is falling apart, then take a half-step backward when it’s time to volunteer. Let’s talk about how we can shore up the weak spots in these towns we love. Let’s talk about what’s next. Then let’s get to work.
We won’t always agree about what’s best or even about what’s right, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt. I hope you’ll do the same with me and with each other.
I’m listening.
Jennifer Hemmingsen’s column appears on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Contact the writer at (319) 339-3154 or jennifer.hemmingsen@gazcomm.com
