BY RORY EVANS
ILLUSTRATIONS BY COOKIE MOON
An eco-minded gardener helps his neighbors help the butterflies.
GLENDALE, CALIFORNIA
Imagine a world without butterflies. Actually, don’t—it’s too sad. The worrisome truth, though, is that monarch butterflies could soon be on the endangered species list in the United States. (What’s next to go, rainbows and shooting stars?!) To help save the population, Raziq Rauf put some of the butterflies’ favorite plants in his yard, creating a waystation where they could stop during their annual migration. He went with milkweed, the only plant monarchs will lay their eggs on, and notes it’s key to check which plant species are ideal for pollinators in your area: “What’s best in my zone might not work nearby.” Thrilled by his flittering visitors, Raziq offered seedlings on Nextdoor to other interested hosts. Even better, the neighborhood association volunteered to plant a garden in the local park. Raziq’s dream is to see the project really take flight, with milkweed landing spots all over Los Angeles.
This furry citizen is wild about clean streets.
ST. PETERSBURG, FLORIDA
If you pull up to the intersection of performance art, cosplay, and Good Samaritanism in this artsy city on Florida’s Gulf Coast and see a grown man with a wolf’s head, cheerfully collecting rubbish, don’t be alarmed. You’ve just spotted Trash Wolf waging a battle against the lawlessness of litter. In his furry lupine mask and fuzzy mitts, Trash Wolf—who prefers to keep his true identity secret—can be found picking up empty fast-food bags and soda cans from bus stops, ditches, and other garbage magnets, as he avenges a landscape where, he says, litter rules are rarely enforced. “I had the calling to do something for the environment,” he explains. “For the earth. For the community.” Why the getup? In a sense, to scare people straight (a little). “What if there was a real deterrent to littering?” he asks. “What if people had a reason to fear throwing their Egg McMuffin wrapper out the window?” So he became Trash Wolf, a friendly picker upper with just enough visible fang to give his values some bite. To let the community know he came in peace, the unlikely ecowarrior announced his intentions on Nextdoor, where he was blown away by the supportive comments. “All the love made me feel like this was the right path,” he says. To date, Trash Wolf has collected more than 3,000 pounds of litter, and on social media, his timelapse videos of local cleanup efforts draw followers who appreciate not only sanitary streets but also the good vibes and humor of @therealtrashwolf. (Roadside “litter bombs” are “deactivated,” meaning properly discarded, with a rousing “#howlyeah.”) The hirsute helper loves it when a passerby sees him at work with his handheld grabber and pitches in, and he even has an idea for a sidekick, or wingman, as it were: Trash Eagle. “They could swoop in and help—and I’ve heard legends about eagles and wolves working together in the wild for years. This would be a powerful reunion to create a litter alliance!”
When eggs became a hot commodity, this chicken owner shared the wealth.
COLUMBIA, TENNESSEE
Longtime vegan Laurie Montgomery never intended to have chickens. But one spring afternoon in 2008, the graphic designer—and founder of a rabbit rescue program—stopped at a farm supply store and saw live baby chicks on sale, meant for Easter baskets. When she pointed out to the store owner that three of the chicks were bleeding, he sent an employee out to “take care” of them (i.e., consign them to a grisly fate). Laurie went full Fern Arable to protect them: “I was like, ‘I’ll take three bleeding chicks to go, please!’” Three dollars later, she found herself the owner of two chickens and a rooster. These days, she has six roosters (one of whom, a small partridge Cochin bantam named Napoleon, enjoys “house privileges”) and three laying hens, who each produce about an egg a day. Laurie used to scramble the eggs and feed them back to the birds (it sounds barbaric, but it’s common among chicken keepers). Then last winter, she recalls, “I kept hearing about the price of eggs going up. I felt like I had to offer them for free on Nextdoor.” Ever since, she’s given away about two dozen a week to neighbors, who consider her a good egg indeed.
A community helps an adorable duo hoof it to safety.
TOPANGA, CALIFORNIA
More than 60 years ago, as a child growing up in Malibu, California, Denise DeGarmo-Ritchie learned to ride a donkey, and the animals have held a special place in her heart ever since. Last spring, Denise, a community outreach coordinator for the Malibu Foundation who’s helped rescue animals from slaughter auctions, heard from a friend about two miniature donkeys scheduled to be put down. Naturally, she didn’t waste a moment. “We had a short window of time to raise money to save their lives,” she says. “It’s kind of like paying a ransom.” When she posted about the little guys’ plight on Nextdoor, she was donkey-kicked over by the response. Her next-door neighbors, Michael Valentine and Joanna Fiore, said they could take the donkeys at their sanctuary if they got the community’s help with finances and transportation. Donations rolled in—$20 here, $500 there. One woman, named Sylvia, drove a horse trailer for six hours to bring the donkeys to their new owners. Michael refers to Luna and Lino Soleigh as “the donkeys a community saved.” They’ve joined his and Joanna’s bighearted rescue menagerie of llamas, pigs (including one who weighs 700 pounds), several three-pound senior chihuahuas, and many others at their sanctuary, available to rent on Airbnb (look for their Superhost listing “Camper/RV in Topanga”). The neighbors’ contributions went toward building a small barn and a fence, vet care, and food for the donkeys. “No one person rescued them,” Michael says. “It takes a community to build a sanctuary, and that describes Topanga. One person said they couldn’t stop following the thread on Nextdoor because in a world of bad news and petty arguments, the donkey rescue reassured them that people are generally good folks.”
A health care worker organizes a senior prom to remember.
GLENDALE, ARIZONA
“Can we bring a red carpet?” This was one of the many offers Crystal Stayner fielded as she set about planning a senior prom—for senior citizens, that is—at the LifeStream at Youngtown, an assisted living facility in Youngtown, Arizona. Initially, the prom was meant to be just another event on the residents’ monthly social calendar, along with activities like bingo and chair yoga. But the team got excited, things snowballed, and the event turned into the center’s biggest party of the year. LifeStream staff ers Faith Figeroa and Clarissa Romero asked Crystal, a hospice liaison, if she could help collect some dresses and suits. When Crystal’s initial plea to her community and church didn’t yield enough donations, she posted on Nextdoor—and her network came through, sending in hundreds of donations and a torrent of messages. “Things like ‘We have 50 pairs of shoes’ and ‘You can have all my dad’s old suits,’” Crystal says. “I made friendships with neighbors I’d never known.” One donor, Terri, had been unable to go through her late mother’s closet for years until she saw the post. Another asked Crystal for sizes and bought six brand-new dresses. “When I came to collect them, she’d written a thank-you note about how hospice helped her parents,” Crystal says.
All together, donors provided 80 dresses (plus shawls and accessories) and a dozen suits, DJ services, a balloon arch, and an impromptu full-service beauty salon. Whitney Lewis, one of Crystal’s closest friends from high school, served as hairstylist, and the LifeStream staff stepped in to do makeup. “It really turned into a glam day, with a photo booth and everything,” Crystal says. She’ll never forget the sight of the prom queen and king, outfitted in their crowns, spinning in their wheelchairs and blowing kisses to the friends who elected them. The event reminded her that “people want to be part of something.” When the prom made the local news, she sent the clip to everyone who’d helped. “I was like, ‘This is what you made happen,’” she says. “All I did was pick stuff up.”
A crafty crew honors the tiniest fighters.
THE PLAINS, VIRGINIA
Kathy Kadilak does not sew. Still, when she read about a woman who makes superhero capes for kids with life-threatening illnesses, she was determined to do the same for premature babies in the neonatal intensive care unit at VHC Health in Arlington, Virginia, where her daughter, Alissa Ray, is a registered nurse. “These little ones are fighting for their lives too, and their loved ones are also struggling,” Kathy says. “Superhero capes felt like a way to honor everyone’s courage.” She rounded up savvy people in her circle for the many tasks involved (sourcing and washing fabric, cutting patterns), then cast a wider net on Nextdoor. That’s when complete strangers stepped up to help with sewing—and now Kathy expects to exceed the initial goal of 250 capes. At the beginning of the project, she didn’t fully grasp the courage the capes would give the NICU parents. But her daughter witnesses the effect regularly: “When a parent sees a cape draped on the crib or incubator, a huge smile spreads across their face,” Alissa says. “It’s a reminder that their baby is an amazing little human.” Even in the heartbreaking instance when a patient doesn’t make it out of the NICU, the creations serve an important purpose, Alissa says: “It lets parents know that no matter what, their baby’s life will always matter.”
An animal lover brings wandering pups home safely.
WATAUGA, TEXAS
Monica Lewis has the nose of a bloodhound for, well, missing bloodhounds—and Labs, terriers, and bulldogs. Renowned in her community for her dogged determination to help get missing pups back to their owners, she’s always ready with her vast social media network and microchip scanner (procured from Amazon for $80) to cross-check missing-pet lists. To date, she’s helped return more than 600 dogs, posting photos of their joyous reunions on Nextdoor. (And this is all on top of her full-time job as front desk coordinator at the local high school aquatic center!) Among her recent detective work was finding Sadie, a mixed-breed “stray” missed by her family for more than four years, who’d wound up 400 miles away. “A girl posted on the lost-and-found pet page that Sadie was her aunt’s, and they were trying to get her home,” Monica says. “The price of transport was $275. We raised that in less than half an hour on Nextdoor.” Tales of animal reunions tug at human heartstrings, Monica says, because “people like feel-good stories, especially when you consider what the world is like at the moment.” The project draws awareness to her other passion—educating pet owners about the importance of microchipping and registering their furry friends. “I want to be that person who makes a difference, one pet at a time.”
When these neighbors needed a helping hand, they found one right next door.
SAVING A LIVELIHOOD
After wildlife photographer Jim Roach of Oakland, California, was robbed at gunpoint and his camera equipment was stolen, his neighbors (and fans) rallied to raise funds for new gear, surpassing the initial $7,500 goal and collecting more than $13,000. Jim says, “There are a lot more good people in the world than bad.”
PLAYING FAIRY GODMOTHER
Grace Baker, 18, of Smithfield, North Carolina, dreamed of finding the ideal prom dress. What might be challenging for many teenagers proved to be particularly so for Grace, who has autism and is more comfortable trying on clothes at home. Her mother, Kari, asked on Nextdoor whether any neighbors had a dress Grace could consider—and they flooded her with offers, like fashion designers courting an Oscar contender.
SMOOTHING LIFE’S ROUGH PATCHES
Sharon Alexander, founder of Arthur Jean Safe Place, an organization that supports people experiencing homelessness, knows well how one life change can leave us financially vulnerable. Last year, she lived it firsthand when her partner passed away and she could no longer afford her house. After she posted her story on Nextdoor, Sharon’s neighbors in Pittsburg, California, donated $6,200, and Hope Solutions, a social service group in nearby Pleasant Hill, helped her and her grandson, Audrion, 19, find a new home, with two months’ rent fully paid. Sharon says, “They gave me the neighbor love I’ve never experienced before.”