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It was the end of January 2007 and so cold that all of nature's delicate snowflakes had morphed into bone-breaking ice. My husband of thirty-four years was crutch-bound after taking a bad step off a curb during our move from Nevada to Iowa.

Fred slowly made it up the eight slippery stairs of our new home in Mount Pleasant, a classic arts and crafts structure built in the 1920s -- a true home of my dreams, located only two blocks down a tree-lined street from Iowa Wesleyan College, a private four-year liberal arts school founded in 1842; Wesleyan is one of the oldest coeducational colleges located west of the Mississippi River (featuring historic red brick buildings of which two are on the National Register of Historic Places).

The realtor had given me a quick overview of the neighborhood. To the right, residing in an American Foursquare or the Prairie Box (a post-Victorian style), was a nice young man who was between jobs.

Directly across the street, in a Gothic revival home, "scheduled to be turned over to the college in a year or so," lived the grandson of an "important woman in the community."

The three-story modified Victorian to our left was owned by a former Iowa governor and his wife who were traveling with Hillary's campaign.

"They're not home very much," my realtor said.

But several weeks later, our left-side neighbors returned home for a break, and Christie Vilsack ("Please call us Tom and Christie") soon brought over a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies one evening.

Several days before returning home, her husband, Iowa's former governor, had publicly announced he would not remain in the Presidential race. But she seemed cheery, anyway.

Christie Vilsack invited me to her upcoming "house party" for Hillary Clinton; house parties are an Iowa caucus tradition, where national political figures personally visit homes in many of the rural communities throughout the state to meet with voters.

The next morning as I looked outdoors, I saw for the first time how the ice and snow had suddenly melted, turning our front yard into winter-ugly.

So embarrassing with Hillary on her way!

For the next several weeks, as the Vilsacks were back on the campaign trail for Hillary, the emerging sun took care of winter's sludge, at least drying up the mud and finally making it possible to get out and rake up last year's leaves and grunge.

One Sunday, realizing the house party was set for the next day, it was up to me to get the lawn cleaned up for the Clinton visit --not that I particularly wanted to rake. Fred clearly didn't care what Hillary might think about our yard, saying his ankle still hurt.

Hauling the rake around to front of the house, I noticed that someone was out in the Vilsack's yard, stooped over and raking leaves into a plastic sack.

He was a big guy wearing shorts and a Wesleyan sweatshirt. Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard after all, I thought, walking over to see if I could hire him to clean up our mess, too.

"Say, I notice you're raking the Vilsack's lawn. When you get done, could I get you to do ours? I'll be happy to pay the same rate."

There was silence.

And then a kindly but stern man stood and said, "I'm doing this because Christie said I had to."

Tom Vilsack kind of grinned while I realized who he was before stooping back over to finish sacking up the leaves and muck. I remember saying something dumb.

I think it was, "Wow, that's the dumbest mistake I've made all year. Well, thanks. Uh, you don't have to rake our lawn, after all."

Hillary appeared at the Vilsack home for an hour the next day. She was stunning and it was a wonderful experience to see and hear her. She was preceded by Secret Service vans and there were actually sharpshooters over on the roof of the Methodist Church.

Folks here say they are used to such activity, since Tom Vilsack started his lengthy political career as the Mount Pleasant mayor. Our home's former owner later told me he once had a nice conversation with John Kerry when he was visiting next door.

Christmas 2008 is here and all four neighbors have moved on to new lives.

I had become particularly close friends with the Four Square house owner on the right, sharing architectural and historical interests. But he moved back home to Mississippi; I really miss his friendship and company.

We never saw the Vilsacks very much afterwards -- just waved as they would come and go -- particularly after I became an enthusiastic Obama supporter, well before they did.

Tom and Christie Vilsack will be moving from Des Moines to Washington, D.C. soon, where Tom Vilsack will serve his country as the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture.

It is said he brings solid experience and organization to this Obama appointment as a former small town mayor, midwestern legislator and a major agricultural state governor.

A few pundits say he's never farmed and question if he truly understands farming.

For myself, I can attest that Christie Vilsack makes superior chocolate chip cookies, grows superb flower gardens, and Tom Vilsack does a thorough (just not very enthusiastic) job of raking.

And this has to count for something!

Even if the future Agriculture Secretary could not be convinced to rake up our lawn junk that cold spring day nearly two years ago.

Keywords: Vilsack, agriculture, secretary, Obama, USDA, Obama nominations

About the Author
Susan Klopfer, Mount Pleasant, IA, USA
sklopfer542@yahoo.com