The next Willow Bend HOA board meeting was on the second Tuesday in November, in the community room at the clubhouse. It’s usually about twelve people and a plate of store-bought cookies.
That night, there were ninety-three. I counted. People were standing along the walls. The Kowalskis brought folding chairs from home. Deputy Hollis came in uniform and stood in the back. Arlen Pike came with his mother. Dr. Lena Ruiz drove two hours from the university just to be there.
Harold Dennison called the meeting to order. His hands were shaking a little on the gavel.
“First item of new business,” he said. “A motion to authorize emergency spending from the Association’s reserve fund for the installation of a locked steel safety grate over the drainage culvert under Ten Mile Road. The estimate from Treasure Valley Fabrication is $5,100. Is there a second?”
Every hand in the room went up. Not just the board members. Everybody.
Harold almost smiled. “I’ll take that as a second. All in favor?”
The vote was unanimous. Five to nothing. The grate was installed eleven days later. It has a big padlock on it, and a sign that says DANGER: KEEP OUT in red letters, and underneath, in smaller letters, somebody added: Thank you, Edgar.
“Second item of new business,” Harold said. He looked down at his papers. Then he looked straight at me in the third row. “A motion to amend Article 7, Section 4(c) of the Declaration of Covenants, Conditions, and Restrictions. Specifically, to strike the words ‘including but not limited to birds.'”
Somebody in the back started laughing. Then somebody started clapping.
“The new language,” Harold went on, raising his voice over the noise, “will read as follows. ‘Residents may feed wild birds on their own lots, provided that feeders and food are maintained in a clean and sanitary condition.’ Is there a second?”
Ninety-three hands again.
“All in favor?”
Five to nothing.
Feeding wild birds is now allowed in Willow Bend.
After the meeting, while people were milling around eating cookies, Harold Dennison came over to Birdie and me. He crouched down slowly, his knees cracking, until he was eye level with her.
“Miss Birdie,” he said. “I owe you an apology too. I’m very sorry I tried to take away your friend.”
Birdie studied his face for a long time. Very serious. The way she does.
Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled something out and put it in his hand.
It was a silver root beer bottle cap. The very first gift Edgar ever left her.
“You can have one,” she said. “So you can start a jar too.”
Harold Dennison looked down at that bottle cap in his palm.
And then that stiff, lonely, clipboard-carrying old man sat down right there on the clubhouse floor and cried.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
Sophia holds a degree in Journalism from the University of Toronto, where she developed her skills in news reporting, media ethics, and digital journalism. Her expertise lies in identifying key stories, crafting compelling narratives, and ensuring journalistic integrity in every piece she edits.
Known for her precision and dedication to the truth, Sophia thrives in the fast-paced world of news editing. At TheArchivists, she focuses on producing high-quality news content that keeps readers informed while maintaining a balanced and insightful perspective.
With a commitment to delivering impactful journalism, Sophia is passionate about bringing clarity to complex issues and amplifying voices that matter. Her work reflects her belief in the power of news to shape conversations and inspire change.