I Experienced ‘Iowa Nice’ First-Hand This Weekend (STORY)

These days, with the United States in a divided, tumultuous way. With social media inundated with bad news, malice, fights, and more, it's remarkably easy to get disillusioned, and even depressed. I'm not immune to it. That's why it's important to get outside, get together with people you know, or even those you don't, and find things that unify you all.

In doing so, it'll also remind you, contrary to what Twitter might have you believe, that there are an abundance of good, honest, hard-working, kind-hearted people who are both easy to talk to and willing to help you in a pinch. That is exactly what Catherine and I were reminded of when we were leaving the Dubuque Fighting Saints game late Saturday evening.

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Like hundreds of others who managed to sell out the ImOn Arena on Saturday, Catherine and I ventured out to see the Fighting Saints play Sioux Falls. Parking was jammed. I ended up parking my Honda Accord on the snowy hill of the nearby dock. I knew when I did it that it might not be a wise move. My Accord is reliable when it's on snow, but asking it to clear a mound or traverse a snow-covered hill is usually asking too much.

I quietly worried about it most of the game, but figured at worst, I'd be able to use the icepick end of my brush in my car and dig us out if need be. Or call an Uber and dig my car out the following day. Low and behold, when we went to leave, we were stuck. My tires couldn't get traction. Just as Catherine and I were about to switch driver-and-passenger roles so I could get out and push, a gentleman, whose name I was unable to get, came up and said him and his friend would offer to give us a shove.

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Just as we were coordinating a plan, a GMC truck started backing up down the hill of the dock. The driver, Spencer, hopped out, along with his spouse (?), with a long yellow rope. The backup lights on his truck might as well have been an angelic glow. I hopped out and provided the light so Spencer, far more skilled than me in this respect, could tie the rope underneath my Honda.

In a few minutes, thanks to the power of Spencer's truck, and my mere competence in white-knuckling the steering wheel to keep my tires straight, my Honda was pulled from the snowy terrain onto clear pavement. Traction finally obtained. I couldn't thank Spencer and this unlikely crew of heroes enough, even if most chalked up their involvement to "moral support" when all was said and done.

Like my mother and father would do in situations far less drastic, I offered them money, or even tickets to a future Saints game (radio station perks). Nobody wanted anything. "Just pay it forward to the next guy," said the gentleman who was the first to come up to our car window. I intend to do so in some capacity. Just don't expect my Honda to be capable of towing anything.

There are many morals to this story. The kindness of strangers and the good in humanity both feel paramount, especially in today's social climate. "Iowa nice" is a cultural label that gets thrown around a lot; one I've heard since moving to Iowa in 2022. I've seen it in practice on my periphery for the last several years. I experienced it first-hand on Saturday night.

A massive thank you to Spencer and the other kind, helpful souls who aided me and Catherine on Saturday night. We're both eternally grateful.