Like other towns that demonstrate a strong sense of community Bozeman is a wonderful place. I wrote this as a Letter to the Editor of the Bozeman Chronicle to thank the unknown person who found the keys to my Jeep on the sidewalk somewhere and put them under the driver’s side windshield wiper.

 

As I account below, that wasn’t the only unexpected help two Sundays ago, nor is it only in Bozeman where these things happen. Stories of such incidents are important, not only in making us feel good and reinforcing good behavior. They influence people’s decisions as Americans go through a big sorting and relocating process.    

 

Here’s the story. I couldn't find my car keys as my husband and I were leaving a wonderful Bozeman Symphony concert.  We hurried back to our seats, looked around, and queried ushers; all to no avail. We then asked if somebody would be going past our home in the Gallatin Gateway area, perhaps to Big Sky.  No one spoke up, but a woman overheard our inquiry. 

 

“May I take you to your home?” she asked. “I overheard you looking for a ride home because you had lost your keys.” She knew where we lived because she had attended the 25th Anniversary Celebration of the Montana Chamber Music Society we hosted at our ranch last July. 

 

I recognized her but could not remember her name. We re-introduced ourselves. Iris Model was born in Germany and loves America. Her affection and loyalty began when she was a little girl in West Berlin suffering from the 1948-49 Soviet Union blockade of all supplies, including food, fuel, and medicine. America led the 10-month airlifts. There were some 272,000 flights into West Berlin, bringing in over 4,000 tons of supplies daily. Implicit in her offer was an acknowledgement of America’s kindness to her. She now owns the Indian Uprising art gallery in Bozeman.

 

We provisionally accepted her kind offer and she and I waited as my husband retraced our steps through the rain, once more looking for the keys.  No luck. Iris drove us home, over 10 miles out of her way.  

 

With the spare car keys in hand, my husband and I drove back to Bozeman to retrieve my Jeep.  When I got in the drivers seat I was thrilled to see the keys tucked under the driver's side windshield wiper. I don’t know where I dropped them. It could have been by the car when I got out or somewhere on the sidewalk as we walked toward Willson Auditorium, the music venue. 

 

I drive one of many Jeeps in Bozeman, several parked near mine.   (I think Jeep and Subaru are two of the most popular vehicles in town)  The person who found the key identified the right vehicle by using the clicker on the key. The same clicker of course opens and starts the car.  The person finding the key could have taken the Jeep, my purse, or the cash and credit cards in it. All were there.

 

This kind, honest, and smart person put the keys where the driver would find them. I want to thank him or her. I expect Bozemanites to be kind, considerate, and honest.  Everyone wants such behavior. 

 

I want to thank both good people for helping us. I gratefully tell the story. How wonderful it is to live here or other places where such behavior is the norm.