Theme: Tcha Tee Man Wi (pronunciation cha TEE mahn wee) is Calapooian, meaning "place where spirit dwells."

• Firewood - Jan Wilcox
• Halloween Visitor - Dianne Roth
• Neighborly Interruption - Jana Zvibleman
• Salvage - Boyd Wilcox
• Solstice Walk - Deb Curtis
• The Sweet Scent of Community - Ann Marchant
• Winter Gathering - Burt and Doris well

Firewood - by Jan Wilcox
Several times, when neighbors had trees cut down, or when a tree of theirs fell down, we have hauled away firewood - saving them the hassle or expense of hiring someone to do the work.
Our neighbors all know they have a place to get warm if the electricity goes out!

Neighborly Interruption - by Jana Zvibleman
Grant and Mia were appreciated as "good neighbors" who were always eager to help out the elderly people and young families in our southwest Corvallis neighborhood. One morning very early, Grant was puttering around in the dark, getting ready to tending their foster quail outside, when he noticed someone across the street pushing a car. Grant opened his door and called "Hey, need a jump start? Or I'll come help you push - I'm getting my shoes on." When Grant got outside, the car sat abandoned, and no one was in sight.

Turned out the car belonged to Maria up the block; Grant had interrupted a thief who was trying to move the car out of earshot, before he would start it up and make off with it.

Halloween Visitor - by Dianne Roth
Many years ago, on a Halloween night, a witch made an unexpected visit in our neighborhood. It was the first time my sons were old enough to go trick-or-treating by themselves. I stayed home to give out treats, dressed in my elegant, but eccentric, witch costume. With my front tooth blackened, my fringed red rose shawl, and pointy hat that would not stand up, I made a memorable impression on the little ones.

My sons arrived home with their goodie bags full and a story about the students living a few houses away from us. Apparently, drink had softened their brains and loosened their tongues. They were using words unprintable here. The children, out looking for candy and fun, got an earful instead.

To this day I chuckle at the scene. Those students faced this irate witch with a the blackened tooth and rose shawl with nary a snicker. "Yes, ma'am," they said again and again. And, "Yes, ma'am," was all they said. Funnier yet, was the realization in the days to follow, that they had no idea that their Halloween visitor was the young, single parent down the block.

Salvage - by Boyd Wilcox
If she only knew; this wonderful neighbor with whom we share a trash
bin.

She first adds her discards and then it's our turn to top it off.

The gems I1ve retrieved; a lamp shade, broom handle, a flexible neck
pillow nestled among the old kleenex.

Various electronic parts, one set from a microwave oven she tossed,
and I dissembled.

Wood, all manner of scraps, the least of which become kindling for our
wood stove.

Today's haul was the grand prize: a full loaf of 16-grain organic,
sprouted-wheat bread.

I imagined making fine sandwiches from this bread and inviting our
neighbor for lunch.

She would marvel at the taste and nutrition and then, following her
laudatory comments I would tell her where the bread came from.

With a befuddled look on her face, a twinkle in her eyes,
and a twisted tongue in her mouth, she would retort, "Stop that trash
talk."

Solstice Walk - by Deb Curtis
Among the many gatherings that our South Corvallis neighborhood has, our Solstice Walk is one of the newer ones. It is magical! We gathered outside of a neighbor’s home in the early evening. Everyone carried a candle or some kind of lantern - non-electric. Together we walked a route that is about a mile, through a darker area in our neighborhood. To see the natural lights bobbing along was wonderful, in this age of night sky pollution. We enjoyed an intimate, leisurely walk, during that usually rushed time of year, each moving around to talk with one neighbor or another, catching up - so many of us are usually too busy for much more than a “hello”.

The walk lasted about 45 minutes. I left feeling refreshed and renewed. After the walk, some of us gathered at a neighbor’s home and visited a little longer with hot chocolate or tea. I look forward to having this as a part of our neighborhood’s annual events.

The Sweet Scent of Community - Ann Marchant
A skunk moved into the crawl space under my neighbor’s home. We commiserated over coffee at my breakfast bar, discussing humane options. While Skunk never let loose totally, the odor of musk drifted down the hill to us. Later, upon the happy news that skunk had left, we celebrated over coffee.

But yesterday we awoke gagging to the overwhelming scent of skunk from under OUR house. We plotted skunk removal options over breakfast, and escaped to school and work.

Within the hour our exchange student called and begged to be brought home, as people were complaining of his smell. He observed politely, "In Peru, I think, the animals do not behave like this." Student #2 came home at lunch. When I stopped by the Philomath Library I was greeted me with advice on skunk removal methods, which the librarians had been researching for us. Community is walking into your local library and being offered unsolicited helpful advice on your most recent family crisis.

The boys obtained a live trap, baited it with sardines, and captured our skunk in the night. We have a live skunk in a cage. What now?

I’ll go to the library and find out.

Winter Gathering - Burt and Doris Wells
The lights were out, and the house was getting colder. We couldn't even make toast or fill hot water bottles. We huddled on the couch, wondering how long the power would be out. We could see that the neighbors to the west and east of us were in the same predicament.

A knock came to our door. The other side of the street, on a different grid, was still lit up, and our friends were pulling us over to dinner.

We joined several chilled neighbors for a feast of hot ravioli and hot bread and steaming tea and nice warm conversation, under bright lights. When we insisted on going back home, we carried thermoses of hot water and micro-waved heating pads and encouragement to come use their house in any way.

This year, the neighbors have decided we'll plan a winter neighborhood gathering some evening - without an emergency.

Stories from the 2007 Festival

Stories from the 2006 Festival