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.skelton.vigil
    MORENCI’S three Skelton brothers were remembered with both tears and laughter last week during a candlelight vigil at Wakefield Park. Several people came out of the crowd to give their recollection of the boys who have now been missing for five years.
  • 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.

2010.06.23 One more time: why are you here?

Written by David Green.

By DAVID GREEN

Thirty years ago I was doing something different than what I’m doing now. I was looking for someone to take a liking to my new K-8 teaching certificate, for one thing, but teaching jobs were pretty scarce in 1980, much like they are now.

If you go back 30 years to the date, however, I actually was doing what I’m doing now. I was writing a By The Way column for my father who left town and country for a long vacation.

I wasn’t just writing a column, I was doing the entire newspaper for three weeks. Of course I didn’t really know what I was doing, but Mary Clymer did. She’d been working at the Observer office for most of my life and she got us through.

In the column I wrote, I was trying to explain why I left Maine for Oregon and why I left Oregon for Morenci. I wasn’t very convincing.

I noted that eight years had passed since I previously helped get a newspaper out due to my father’s eye surgery. It was during those eight years that I worked in child care centers in Saginaw for two years, lived in Maine for a year while working at a rural hippie school, lived in Portland, Oregon, for two years while working in a classroom for emotionally handicapped kids (I think that’s what they were called in the mid-1970s), and returned to Michigan to earn a teaching degree—something that was preceded by working at Sauder Woodworking to earn college money.

The year in Maine happened by accident. I had no intentions of moving there. I was on a bicycle trip in Canada with my friend, John, and we met some people heading down out of New Brunswick. We were invited to stop by for a visit—a long one. I stayed a year.

The endless woods were beautiful and I wrote in that column:

“The smell of a good cedar woods in Maine is so staggeringly wonderful that I’d be willing to give up a few things in order to have a bottle of it to sniff every morning.”

I didn’t have to give up anything but a little of my ignorance. I received a package from Aletha Correll, who once lived in Maine, containing a small bag of the Maine woods. But it was balsam fir that I recalled smelling, she told me, not cedar. It was a really nice gift. I sniffed that bag dozens and dozens of times, always thinking of hiking through the forest near Pigeon Hill.

 There was the exciting coastline just down the road a few miles, lots of wild blueberries, very interesting people, composting toilets. So why did I leave?

According to my column, the spring wildflowers couldn’t match those found along Bean Creek. Autumn just wasn’t the same with so many trees staying green.

Sounds a little weak. Maybe I just wanted to get back on the road. Maybe I really wanted to see Oregon.

Portland was an amazing place to live. If you were in the right part of the city, you could see Mt. Hood off to the east. An enormous snow-capped mountain, right there in front of you.

Portland has Forest Park, one of the largest urban forests in the world. Miles and miles of trails, all within the city limits.

I suppose it has great restaurants and theatres, but I was a poor fellow living off teacher aide wages—several steps ahead of the Burnside Bridge bums, but by no means affluent.

I traveled by city bus and by bicycle, so I never visited the coast except when my cousin and cousin-out-law were driving that way. What beauty. Breath-taking beauty. The mountains, the city, the river, the forests, the coast—Oregon seemed hard to beat.

So why did I leave?

According to my column, the first thing I always mention when asked is the lack of thunderstorms. Lots of rain, but thunder is a rarity. Can you imagine living without thunderstorms? You can?

I also faulted Oregon for the lack of four seasons. Natives told me each season was present, just not as dramatic as I was accustomed to in the Midwest.

Do you buy that reason? A total of 10 years away and I returned, not just to Michigan, but to Morenci. I guess I’m still puzzled when I think about it.

The old column ended this way: “I had to leave it in order to learn how much I appreciate all these flat, boring stretches of corn and soybeans.”

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