Small-town livin

Karen and I recently made our first trip up to the self-described "Tiny Town of Washington." It's a rustic, scenic, largely lawless settlement about 25 minutes into the Sierra Nevada from here.

Pretty much everything I know about Washington I learned from Vivian Herron, my paper's longtime columnist who reported each week from what she called Littletown (which has about 120 permanent residents).

Every Saturday, Vivian painted potraits of a town where everyone seemed to be a Hells Angel with a Heart of Gold. They met at the Washington Hotel to swap stories, rumor or recipes -- and chuckle at the Bigtowners.

Sadly, Vivian died a few months back, severing one of the only connections between Washington and nearby Grass Valley and Nevada City, which are small by most folks' standards.

It's not rare for someone at the paper to remember Vivian fondly, but I have to admit I was surprised when she came up during my trip into Washington this weekend. Karen and I walked with our two traveling companions up to the Washington Schoolhouse, a one-room wonder that turns 100 this Saturday. One friend brought up my favorite of Vivian's columns, which, sadly, I can't find on our Web site.

She wrote about baking a fresh batch of cookies, then calling the schoolhouse to let them know. She left a message on the answering machine, then stood out on her porch, plate of cookies in hand. Suddenly a kid exploded out of the door, yelling "cookies! cookies! cookies!" She snatched the plate, thanked Vivian, and ran the goodies back to the class.

What's interesting is that our friend remembered the column largely for a different reason. Vivian ended the column by noting: "I can, and I do. Do you?"

Her point was that small-town life isn't about being in a small town. That was really the point of most of her columns, I think. She was trying to demonstrate that getting to know your neighbors and helping them out can build community anywhere.

I hear people complaining all the time about how growth is driving neighbors apart. These are usually the same people who lock their doors, don't know their neighbors, and glare at just about everybody.

Sadly, that's me, too. Even in a small town like Nevada City, it's tough to break out of the easy lifestyle of ignoring everyone but your own. It's funny that most folks I know are journalists, but we always seem to stop short of actually connecting with the communities we try to educate every day. But I think I'm making progress in becoming a local, and I don't think we should expect to build these connections overnight.

Plus, I'm getting really good at harumphing the word "tourists."