This is the story of how a missing stop sign was replaced in my town. 

I was just a few hundred feet from home when it happened — a driver came to the end of one road and made a swift right hand turn onto another, the car not even slowing long enough for the driver to take a cursory glance around them. 

This wasn’t the first time an unfamiliar car had pulled out in front of me at this intersection, and I complained to my husband that it was becoming more frequent. 

“Well,” he said, “there’s no stop sign there. They don’t technically have to stop.”

His comment made me stop in my tracks. Wait a second. No stop sign? Since when? 

We’ve lived near this intersection for well over two decades, and people have always had to stop. Where had it gone?

Later that week, I stopped some neighbors to chat. “Would you mind if I called the town about that stop sign?” I asked. 

With their support, I dug around for the phone number of the town highway barn. I picked up the phone and placed a call. When the answering machine beep sounded, I left a detailed message. 

Later that day, I received a return call from the Town of Callicoon acting highway superintendent. Explaining my problem, he said he’d see what he could do. 

A few days later, with no pomp or circumstance, I left my house and noticed a brand-new stop sign, red and shining in the sun. 

The End

If this seems exceedingly simple, that’s because it was. 

I saw a problem. I called about the problem. The problem was resolved. 

I realize that things can’t always be wrapped up quite so neatly. Often calls to our local government officials involve issues that are far more complicated than a missing stop sign. 

Even town highway requests can be challenging to resolve thanks to everything from budget limitations to state highway requirements. 

I will not pretend that it always works this way, but the exceeding simplicity of this story demonstrates a simple answer does exist — at least once in a while. 

And yet, each time someone complains about one of these common community conundrums on social media, at the neighborhood barbecue, at the bar, over the fence to their neighbor, there’s a question worth asking. “So, did you call anyone who can do something about it?” 

I’ve been guilty of these public but random rants myself, have fussed to friends about the potholes on 17 or the tree hanging on the wires that’s never been touched. 

But just as it is with that friend who complains about their headache but never visits a doctor or the child who is overwhelmed in math class but won’t schedule time to talk to the teacher, the grumbling at large doesn’t do much more than make me feel heard for a few moments. A few days later when I pass the tree or swerve around the pothole, I’m right back to being annoyed. 

Making that phone call could have ended the same way — a few moments of feeling heard only to return to my frustrated state when nothing was done. But sometimes simple questions lead to simple answers.