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Monday, November 9, 2026Nov 9

In nation at war with itself, one town tries cup of civility

Maureen Donnelly Morris sips from her own brew while greeting neighbors at Back Street Brews in Lovettsville, Va., Dec. 16, 2021. When she came from nearby Leesburg several years ago to open her café in what was then a craft store, strangers showed up to help, bringing plants, solar lights, concrete for her parking sign footings and more. A sense of community has so far survived the political divisions ripping at America and the town. (AP Photo/Cal Woodward)
Maureen Donnelly Morris sips from her own brew while greeting neighbors at Back Street Brews in Lovettsville, Va., Dec. 16, 2021. When she came from nearby Leesburg several years ago to open her café in what was then a craft store, strangers showed up to help, bringing plants, solar lights, concrete for her parking sign footings and more. A sense of community has so far survived the political divisions ripping at America and the town. (AP Photo/Cal Woodward) Maureen Donnelly Morris sips from her own brew while greeting neighbors at Back Street Brews in Lovettsville, Va., Dec. 16, 2021. When she came from nearby Leesburg several years ago to open her café in what was then a craft store, strangers showed up to help, bringing plants, solar lights, concrete for her parking sign footings and more. A sense of community has so far survived the political divisions ripping at America and the town. (AP Photo/Cal Woodward)

LOVETTSVILLE, Va. – When Maureen Donnelly Morris came from nearby Leesburg to open her café in Lovettsville, she got a warm welcome. Neighbors rallied to her aid. Divisions ripping at their town and their country were set aside. America’s thunderous rage felt distant.

They sank posts for her parking signs. They brought solar lights for the cheery space outdoors, sharpened her bagel-slicing blades and contributed plants, all to herald what would become the town’s social hub and civil common ground, Back Street Brews.

Forget, at least for one split second, red, blue, left, right, pro-Trump, anti-Trump. No one asked the woman from Leesburg: Which side are you on? (And she wouldn’t have said, if they did. Still won’t.)

In this community of some 2,200 and others like it across the United States, neighborly ways and social ties persist, even in a country that seems to be at war with itself. It’s a quieter force than all the yelling that is driving Americans apart. But the redemption of a nation and future of its democracy may depend on it as the anniversary of the Jan. 6 insurrection at the U.S. Capitol approaches.

At least among neighbors in the café, said Moe, as everyone calls her, “You’re allowed to be a Republican and I don’t hate your guts. And you’re allowed to be a Democrat and hopefully you like me if I’m not.”