Mrs. Kato is 78. She guards the trash station on our street. She knows exactly two English phrases. "Good morning." And "Roll Tide." Ashley, who moved here from Alabama, taught her the second one. Mrs. Kato doesn't know what it means. She just knows it makes Ashley happy. So she uses it for everything. Perfectly sorted plastic? "Roll Tide." Bottles rinsed and labels removed? "Roll Tide." The mailman? "Roll Tide." Then, in September, another family moved in. Also from Alabama. Auburn fans. On his first morning, the husband walked his trash down at 6 a.m. Mrs. Kato inspected the bag, nodded, and said, warmly: "Roll Tide." He stopped walking. I have since learned that in Alabama, this is not a sports question. It's which side of the family you're on. He smiled very carefully and said, "War Eagle, ma'am." Mrs. Kato thought this was a greeting. The next morning, she said it to Ashley. Ashley dropped her trash. That weekend, both families came to Mrs. Kato's house separately to "explain." She served each of them tea. She listened to each of them for forty minutes. She understood nothing. She nodded at all the right moments. Then she solved it the way only a Japanese grandmother could. Burnable trash days: "Roll Tide." Recycling days: "War Eagle." Both families have accepted this. Ashley calls it the first peace treaty in Alabama history. They still won't sit together on game day. But every Tuesday at 6 a.m., an Alabama fan and an Auburn fan carry a 78-year-old Japanese woman's trash bags down the street. Together. In silence. And Mrs. Kato thanks them both the same way. "Roll Eagle."