“In every neighborhood, all across our country, there are good people insisting on a good start for the young, and doing something about it.” – Fred McFeely Rogers

Our children grew up with public television. The dial on the TV was set to The Electric Company, Zoom, Sesame Street, and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. These shows were such an important part of our life that, even after almost fifty years, I can remember each theme as the music plays.


The family room in our suburban Chicago home was perfect for our young family. We were always together on long winter afternoons.

There was a fireplace, some chairs, a toy chest and bookcase, a table that doubled for projects and meals, an aquarium that needed attention, and our kitchen.

Plus a TV.

During the short summers months our children played outside; on a swing set that I needed to move to mow the grass; or in their sandbox, until it was time to come inside – for their shows.

1970 to 1977 were wonderful for our young Chicago family. We bundled up together and stayed together – and that may be the best warmth of all.

Over the long winter months, while the yard was frozen with snow, everyone stayed inside. I knew where to find them when I got home from work: wife, daughter, son, and dog – all by the fire, watching TV.

My wife and I were happy with the progress our children were making and we felt confident that they’d be ready when it was time to start school, thanks to their shows.

The Electric Company was teaching them grammar and reading. Zoom, my favorite, was asking them questions and then letting them find their own answers. Sesame Street was funny and full of cultural references that were good for us all.

Mr. Rogers was about kindness and love. And that bothered me.

He was a nice guy, and everything, but not exactly who I wanted our son to become. I was thinking more about a career for my boy in business or industry, or something where men could be men, without being, well, so nice.

I wanted him watching what I’d grown up with, shows like The Lone Ranger and Davey Crocket. Shows where “real men” got the job done – without wasting time hanging up their jacket or changing their shoes.

So when Mr. Rogers came on I’d fix another drink and go down to the basement. Maybe I’d work on the cabinet I’d started with my new radial arm saw or something else that was more manly than watching him sing.

Fortunately, our son stayed with his sister while I went off on my own. Together they would watch as Mr. Rogers told them how they were special; like no other two kids in the world, and that they were loved just the way they were.

Over the years, I’ve thought about those days, about our house outside Chicago, about the fun we had in that wonderful city, and about how close we became as a family. I’ve also thought about Mr. Rogers and the influence he had on our children. These children who have become such wonderful adults.

While I am sorry I went to the basement during those years, I am grateful Mr. Rogers stayed with our children to tell them (and so many others) how they were special.

Thank you, Mr. Rogers, for making that choice; for teaching them so they could teach me.

Now it’s my turn to do the same.

We always need people like Mr. Rogers who are willing to help kids see how they really are special and how they can grow to be what ever they want. What we don’t need are more dads who are too threatened by the empathy of love that they walk away when emotion is expressed in unfamiliar ways.

Think about who it was that first said you were special? How did that simple word make you feel? What are the things that could have gone wrong for you without him or her in your life?

Who said they loved you when those were the last words you ever expected to hear that person say to you – again?

As always the conversation starts here.

“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran

Epilogue

My birthday wish this year is for each of us to make the choice to see this movie.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor stars the life long Republican and Presbyterian Minister, Fred McFeely Rogers (1928-2003). Then, when its over and we all walk out together drying our eyes, let’s find a way to each say, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”