Recently my friend, Marilyn, posted a NY news story about a neighborhood that banded together to help someone and Marilyn asked why this was news. In the Midwest, we always help our neighbors. Yes, Marilyn, if Midwest newspapers reported on these events, the newspapers would be too heavy to carry. I was making spaghetti today and it reminded me of how we helped our neighbors. When I was in Junior High in Rock Island, a neighbor kid was injured and her parents wanted to take her to the doctor. Mom grabbed our spaghetti off the stove and fed the rest of the family while the parents took their daughter to the doctor. Everything turned out fine; the injury wasn’t too bad. This made a big impression on my sister and me. The spaghetti had been cooking all day and the house smelled so good. We were ready for a spaghetti dinner. Mom said she would make spaghetti again soon and we went out to eat after taking care of the neighbors. Now that I live outside of Dallas, my neighbors are more likely to complain to the city that my grass is too long than to come help me mow while my mower is in the shop. In fact, 6 weeks after I bought my house a grass fire almost burned it down; the fire department was able to save my house. Afterwards, one neighbor came over to see if I needed help. I live next door to a church and not one person from the church stopped by to check on me. Yep, Marilyn, the Midwest Rocks!