Community means a group of people living in the same place or having particular characteristics or values in common. Where community thrives, life has more coherence and meaning. Where community fragments or breaks down, there is often conflict and division.

in my town, I seek and have found community. I am always looking for it.

Maria and I woke up to a heavy fog this morning, we took my car out to Shushan to Clint Rushinki’s Automotive, he is my new car mechanic. I realized this week how important community and personal connection is to me now, I always look for it when I need something beyond the farm.

Rushinki’s garage is way out in Shushan, a beautiful town to the North, it is not really near anything.  There was heavy fog all the way, Rushinki’s place is down a long and winding dirt road.

Clint was outside spreading  salt and gravel over the ice. “Hey, John,” he said. He seemed to be expecting me.

I took the keys in to give them to Kate and the office was filled with two or three people sitting in chairs sipping coffee. We joked about the fog. This is my place I thought, it is not just a business, it has a more personal feeling than that.

I believe all people seek community and need it. Social media and computing devices seem to kill community, they keep us from meeting one another face to face, from finding common values to share.

I tried going to a different car place, but I never felt that personal connection that is a hallmark of the community that remains in my small town. And I want it. The garage did nothing wrong, they did good work. But community matters to me. Part of it is chemistry – do I feel at ease? Can I talk to these people? Do they know me as something other than a bank check?

I’m not looking for personal pals or people to have dinner with, I’m looking for people who can make a personal connection with me, part of community.

Two days ago, I called a different car place and asked if I could have my snow tires put on this week, it’s supposed to snow heavily in a day or so. Too busy, they said, all booked up. I wished that they had cared a bit more.  In upstate New York, snow tires are not an affectation, they are sometimes life and death.

We have some nasty weather coming, and I appreciate having them on my car. This delay is my fault, not theirs, I waited until the holiday rush to get them put on.

I had this feeling of disconnection, of just doing business.

I called Clint’s place up – I have heard very good things about him.  “Bring it in,” they said, “we’ll fit you in. Better get then on before Thursday.” They did care, even if they were pretending. It mattered. I don’t wish to be a prima donna, or one of those people always bitching about their service.

Clint seemed happy to see me, we chatted a bit about the weather, about my car. He took a little time to welcome me and get to know me a bit. It didn’t take long, but it mattered. It was no longer Rushinkski’s, it was Clint’s. When I have a problem with my car from now on, I’ll call Clint.

So there it was. The personal connection. The feeling of being known and cared for. Of being taken care of. I am  not a demanding or difficult customer, I understand what it means to be busy. But personal connection, a sense of being part of a community, is increasingly important to me. It is the answer to some of the rage and disconnection rampant in the country.