A problem that screams for a solution.

I had a birthday this week. It comes every year about the same time.

This year I was pleasantly surprised by a party initiated by one of my sons and a close personal friend. I was flattered by the attention and needed some upbeat fun.  Why - Because I had spent the day with my wife visiting my childhood haunts and the nostalgia was depressing.

For example, the home where I was raised at 2229 Quindaro was barely intact, but the area was trashed. The drugstore where I purchased my favorite chocolate malts was demolished. The Safeway store where I stole 5-cent snicker bars was demolished, The ice cream store where I purchased 10-cent 3 scoop orange sherbet cones was demolished. The streets where I walked my paper route - every day 150 papers - were trashed. The grade school I attended was closed down and surrounded by a 8' high chain link fence. There are more depressing examples, but you get the idea.

When I lived on Quindaro, the area was clean, yards were mowed and homes were painted.  At that time, Leawood was farmyards. The farmyards have been replaced by residential homes, bike trails, walking paths, marvelous schools, churches and a 22,000 student body community college. The Leawood street I live on now, 50 years later, is clean, with mowed yards, fresh paint and beautiful landscaping. I live approximately 25 miles south of the street where I was raised. Leawood has a population of several hundred thousand, beautiful shopping malls and dozens of upscale restaurants. Quindaro has nothing.

There is just no simple rational to why these communities became what they are, but it is a question that screams for a answer.

Make every day count by caring for the community where you live lest your area become a Quindaro.  If I see a piece of trash in my street or on the sidewalk, I am going to pick it up. It does count.