Good neighbors
Last Sunday the neighborhood of Tinsmith Lane cul-de-sac gathered in the Mullicans’ living room to honor John and June Earnest, a Texas couple who have extended their Southern hospitality to this little community for the past two decades. No one was promoting a multilevel marketing scheme, no cell phones rang, and everyone in the neighborhood showed up. As a box of Kleenex made its rounds, each neighbor shared memories and expressed feelings of appreciation and love for the Earnests.
Beverly Mullican begins, “We get calls in the morning saying, ‘We just made breakfast – come on over and eat.’ We get calls just before we leave on vacation saying, ‘Be safe! Come home soon!’ We get calls saying, ‘Are you sick? We haven’t heard from y’all in a couple days,’ or ‘Saw you working on the truck … need any help?’ I thought I was getting special treatment from them, until I found out that this is exactly how they make everyone feel. Their house is always open, their door is open to everyone. They know how to be. They’ve given us a gift of being.”
She passes the box of Kleenex to Lori Evenson. “June is my do-you-have-a-cup-of-sugar lady,” Lori says. “My husband and I have the same anniversary as John and June.” The Earnests have been married for 55 years. Someone asks, “How have you stayed married this long?” June replies, “Keep your mouth shut and be willing to say you’re sorry.” Another neighbor asks, “Did you get married when you were 10 years old, June?” She laughs. “Well, I was almost 11.”
Jodi Jensen, a relative newcomer, has lived in the neighborhood only one decade. Cecilia Peterson and Marie Howell have both been here since the mid-‘70s, and Michelle VanSlate for the past 17 years. They share stories of cookies back and forth, lawn mowers and kids’ bikes being fixed, children being warmed by June’s hot cocoa with marshmallows, and countless hours sitting in the Earnests’ front-yard swing, listening to stories. Marie says, “I’ll tell my husband I’ll be back in 15 minutes, and two hours later I’m still at John and June’s.”
It’s been suggested that the demise of America’s sense of community has been due in large part to the invention of the automatic garage-door opener. Folks get home from work and punch their remote down the block, their car is swallowed up, the garage door closes and they never learn their neighbors’ names. Asked why this doesn’t seem to have happened in the Tinsmith neighborhood, Mike Mullican says, “We’ve all been here so long and have accumulated so much junk, we can’t get into our garages! You see all those cars lining the street? Those aren’t just yard ornaments!”
Another neighbor offers, “John and June have their swing out in their front yard. Most folks have lawn furniture on decks in the back. When we get home, we just naturally go say ‘Hello’ to John and June before going into the house.”
Heidi Mullican, the baby of this big extended family, remembers, “John always called me his favorite weed, and convinced me that a weed was just a misplaced flower. If I ever feel out of place I remember I’m John’s favorite weed. I wouldn’t have survived half the growing-up years without you. Growing up is hard … you two made it a little easier.”
Her brother, Ben, adds, “You’ve been our second mom and dad.” June asks him, “Do you remember what I always threatened you with?” Ben says, ” ‘I’ll beat you with a wet noodle!’ ” June says, “I was going to give you one for your wedding, but my conscience got the best of me.” Ben answers, “I would’ve framed it.”
Asked what their model was for creating a life of giving and loving, June says, “My mother died when I was young, so I got my love of people from my dad. He was a Watkins salesman and his routes were out in the country. I’d go with him, stopping at houses every few miles. Everyone was so welcoming.”
John adds, “The military affected my life more than anything as far as getting along with others. Flight crews are family. I spent months at a time with only the five other crew members. There’s a lot of camaraderie in the military.”
John Earnest retired after 23 years in the Air Force. June adds, “Now he doesn’t work except for his honey-do list.”
After spending their honeymoon at Ross Point Campground in 1950, John was drafted into the service. He spent the Korean War in a B-36, and later flew 300 missions as a gunner in the Vietnam War.
“My folks had come up here on vacation in ‘48,” John says. “The crops were in and they decided to visit a cousin up here. Not long after, they put the farm up for sale and moved. June and I planned on moving to North Idaho half of our lifetime. A person couldn’t pick a place to live that would be more loving and caring than this.”
Mike Mullican agrees, adding that it’s people like the Earnests that make North Idaho great.
“We’re all blessed to have you as neighbors,” he said. “There isn’t anyone in this neighborhood who hasn’t been touched by you.”
The gathering on Sunday at Mullicans’ was a cut above the neighborhood garage sale or even block party. Tinsmith Lane is a living example of a true sense of community, and John and June Earnest are the heart of it all.