The Weekly Newspaper serving the citizens of Morenci, Mich., Fayette, Ohio, and surrounding areas.

  • Front.cheers
    MACEE BEERS joins other Fayette Elementary School students for the annual Mini-Cheer performance during the half-time break at the basketball game.
  • Family.3.wide
    CHILDREN at Stair District Library’s Family Story Time toss scarves into the air during an activity. The evening program provided a mix of stories, songs, dancing, crafts and snacks Monday evening. The program is offered at 5:30 p.m. every Monday for five more weeks. The program is designed for three to five year olds and their family.
  • Front.newpaper.2
    THE INTERVIEW—Evelyn Joughin (right) records the interaction with an iPad while Jack Varga, next to her, asks questions of Morenci Elementary School principal Gail Frey. Morenci senior Sam Cool (standing) listens. Cool serves as the editor for the newspaper written by members of Mrs. Barrett’s second grade class.
  • Front.code.2
    WRITING CODE—Brock Christle (left), a Morenci fifth grade student, takes a look at the progress being made by fourth grader Anthony Lewis. Libby Rorick, a sixth grade student, is next in a line of girls trying out the coding tutorials. This year marked Morenci’s second year of participation in the Hour of Code project.
  • Front.gym.new
    REMIE RYAN (left) tries to dodge the foam wand held by Hayden Bays during physical education class at Morenci Elementary School. In the background, Lauryn Dominique and Brooklyn Williams stay clear of the tag. Second grade students were working on cardiovascular health on the first day back from vacation. For the record, Safety Tag is a very difficult sport to photograph.
  • Front.lift
    MORENCI student Dalton McCowan puts everything into a dead lift attempt Saturday morning during the Wyseguy Push/Pull event. Lifters helped raise more than $1,600 for the family of the late Devin Wyse, a former Morenci power-lifter who graduated last year. Commemorative T-shirts are still available by contacting teacher Dan Hoffman.
  • Front.library.books
    MACK DICKSON takes a book off the “blind date” cart at the Fayette library. Patrons can choose a book without knowing what’s inside other than a general category. The books are among those designated for removal so patrons can consider them gifts. In Morenci, new books and staff favorites were chosen from the stacks and must be returned. Patrons get a piece of chocolate, too, to take on their date, but no clue about their “date.” One reader said she really enjoyed her book for a few pages, but then lost interest—so typical for a blind date.

2008.08.27 Fishing for a tale from the past

Written by David Green.

By DAVID GREEN

Who has time to write a column? I was out of town for a long weekend in the north. It was the wedding of the month—this time my son, Ben, and his new wife, Sarah. It was another great one, this time overlooking Grand Traverse Bay.

So far there’s no word on Maddie’s bridesmaid pledge to follow up with a third wedding in September.

But who has time for a column, or even to make a newspaper?

Here’s an old one from 20 years ago. It’s really very appropriate because it’s about five-year-old Ben and fishing. He’s always loved it, always longed to do it, but it seems that he never catches much.

He and his groomsmen went out into Lake Michigan before the ceremony to try their luck with the salmon. They caught quite a few, but I wanted to know specifically how Ben did. What I consider his bad fishing luck was covered in this experience.

I didn’t know how it works, but there are several poles in place around the boat; not one pole per person. So when something is hooked, one member of the party steps forward to reel it in.

I guess I never got a definite answer, but I’ll assume at least one of those catches was his on his wedding weekend. It wasn’t always that good.


(From July 27, 1988)

The blame for our dinner problems Saturday night lay squarely on the shoulders of a local hardware store owner who also happens to be a neighbor.

This kind-hearted gentleman gave an old fishing tackle box to Ben recently. It wasn’t any great loss to him since he’s got about a dozen of them in his boat. And if Ben has an empty tackle box, what can he do but go down to that hardware store several times a week to buy fishing gear. It was all pretty good thinking on the part of the hardware man.

This guy took Ben and me fishing a couple of weeks age and we never got so much as a nibble. He provoked Ben to a high level of excitation with tales about Lake Hudson muskies, but we were left with nothing to do but compare who caught the longest weeds, the bushiest weeds, etc.

Ben’s life pretty much revolves around fishing now. Or at least thinking about fishing. He’s always walking around the yard with his pole, talking about digging a pond out in back.

He’s been able to afford about half a dozen plastic worms and grubs. He’s hoping for some old lures to accompany that old tackle box.

He’s financially so far away from the high price of a real muskie lure that his mind is starting to move into high gear. He showed me his tackle box last week and there was a zucchini inside. He’s going to tie a hook to it and catch a muskie with that thing.

Then came Saturday night dinner. It’s hard to believe, but there were no zucchini remaining in the garden. Colleen had to have a zucchini for Zucchini Helenique or something, but there weren’t any. I told her where to look and sure enough it was there, but Ben wouldn’t let her have it.

She took a closer look at it and decided she didn’t want the thing anyway—it had spent a few nights in the tackle box—and we had some other kind of Helenique.

That’s not the end of this fishing mania.

I know at least one car drove by our house Friday night when I stood out front holding a very strange contraption. Ben had called me out to help him do something. I walked down the steps and he thrust into my hands a broom which had a flashlight secured with a few feet of duct tape. Extending out from the end, buried under more tape, was a fly swatter.

He flipped on the flashlight and directed me to a small opening between the steps and the porch foundation. I stuck the thing in, looked around with the flashlight, and sure enough, there was a little red and white fishing bobber at the back.

I could just reach it with the swatter, but it rolled off to the side out of sight. I gave him back his tool, went inside and tried to forget about fishing.

Some people are glad Lake Hudson exists, but I’m not always so sure.

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