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

  • Snow.2
    FIRST SNOW—Heavy, wet flakes piled deep on tree branches—and windshields—as the area received its first significant snowfall of the season. “Usually it begins with a dusting or two,” said George Isobar, Morenci’s observer for the National Weather Service, “but this time it came with a vengeance.” By the end of the day Saturday, a little over four inches of snow was on the ground. Now comes the thaw with temperatures in the 40s and 50s for three days.
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    SKEWERS, gumdrops, and marshmallows are all that’s needed to create interesting shapes and designs for Layla McDowell Saturday at Stair District Library’s “Sculptamania!” Open House. The program featuring design games and materials is one part of a larger project funded by a $7,500 Curiosity Creates grant from Disney and the American Library Association. Additional photos are on page 7.
    Morenci marching band members took to the field Friday night dressed for Halloween during the Bulldog’s first playoff game. Morenci fans had a bit of a scare until the fourth quarter when the Bulldogs scored 30 points to leave Lenawee Christian School behind. Whiteford visits Morenci this Friday for the district championship game. From the left is Clayton Borton, Morgan Merillat and James O’Brien.
    DNA PUZZLE—Mitchell Storrs and Wyatt Mohr tackle a puzzle representing the structure of DNA. There’s only one correct way for all the pieces to fit. It’s one of the new materials that can be used in both biology and chemistry classes, said teacher Loretta Cox.
  • Front.tar.wide
    A TRAFFIC control worker stands in the middle of Morenci’s Main Street Tuesday morning, waiting for the next flow of vehicles to be let through from the west. The dusty gravel surface was sealed with a layer of tar, leaving only the application of paint for new striping. The project was completed in conjunction with county road commission work west of Morenci.
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    JUNIORS Jazmin Smith and Trevor Corkle struggle against a team from the sophomore class Friday during the annual tug of war at the Homecoming Games pep rally. Even the seniors struggled against the sophomores who won the competition. At the main course of the day, the Bulldog football team struggled against Whiteford in a homecoming loss.
    YOUNG soccer players surived a chilly morning Saturday in Morenci’s PTO league. From the left is Emma Cordts, Wayne Corser, Carter and Levi Seitz, Briella York and Drew Joughin. Two more weeks of soccer remain for this season.
  • Front.ropes
    BOWEN BAUMGARTNER of Morenci makes his way across a rope bridge constructed by the Tecumseh Boy Scout troop Sunday at Lake Hudson Recreation Area. The bridge was one of many challenges, displays and games set up for the annual Youth Jamboree by the Michigan DNR. Additional photos on are the back page of this week’s Observer.
  • Front.homecoming Court
    One of four senior candidates will be crowned the fall homecoming queen during half-time of this week’s Morenci-Whiteford football game. In the back row (left to right) is exchange student Kinga Vidor (her escort will be Caylob Alcock), seniors Alli VanBrandt (escorted by Sam Cool), Larissa Elliott (escorted by Clayton Borton), Samantha Wright (escorted by JJ Elarton) and Justis McCowan (escorted by Austin Gilson), and exchange student Rebecca Rosenberger (escorted by Garrett Smith). Front row freshman court member Allie Kaiser (escorted by Anthony Thomas), sophomore Marlee Blaker (escorted by Nate Elarton) and junior Cheyenne Stone (escorted by Dominick Sell).
  • Front.park.lights
    GETTING READY—Jerad Gleckler pounds nails to secure a string of holiday lights on the side of the Wakefield Park concession stand while other members of the Volunteer Club and others hold them in place. The volunteers showed up Sunday afternoon to string lights at the park. The decorating project will continue this Sunday. Denise Walsh is in charge of the effort this year.
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2007.10.03 Thinking about thank you notes

Written by David Green.


Quite possibly, I am the world’s worst when it comes to writing thank you notes. No matter how grateful I am for whatever gifts I’ve received, for whatever kindnesses bestowed upon me, it always takes me way too long to communicate that gratitude in written form. Or else I compose them in my head, and then think I sent them already. And when I’m thanking many people, chances are, I’m inadvertently going to leave somebody out. It’s no excuse, but I suppose I can attribute my weak ways to my upbringing.

When I was growing up in poverty in the Bronx, I don’t think I ever wrote a thank you note. Nobody outside of my immediate family ever gave me anything so there was nothing to say thank you for. My granddaddy sometimes used to give us a little change when he dropped in for a visit. But he had 32 grandchildren so that didn’t happen very often. Among my aunts and uncles and cousins we did not exchange presents. It was enough for each of my mother’s seven siblings to take care of their own families; throwing nieces and nephews into the gift-giving mix wasn’t in the cards.

I recall an occasion now that, had any of my children been the recipient, I would have made them write a note of thanks: I received a camera from my elementary school when I graduated sixth grade as salutatorian. I’m sure my mother never made me write a note. I’m sure we didn’t have several boxes of thank you notes lying around the house as I do now. I’m sure we didn’t have any thank you notes.

When the presentation of the wrapped camera box was made at graduation, I probably would have said thank you to whoever gave it to me, but it never would have entered my head to follow that up with an official note expressing my gratitude.

I don’t fault my mother for failure to enforce this rule of etiquette. In my neck of the Bronx I don’t think it was common practice anyway. My more affluent friend, Adrienne, who grew up in Queens, wrote thank you notes as a kid, though.

“I use to send them to aunts and uncles,” she said.

“Did your mother make you?” I asked.

“I suspect it was probably at her prodding,” she admitted.

My mother on the other hand, had more immediate demands on her plate. She was always in survival mode, constantly figuring out how she was going to feed and clothe five children single-handedly while keeping a roof over our heads. Thank you notes? Not a priority. Not even on the radar screen.

“Why are you writing about this?” Adrienne wanted to know.

“I wrote a thank you in the paper to people who had helped with the Summer Reading Program and forgot to include a few who were major contributors,” I said.

Kym Ries and her community issues class made papier mache decorations for the annex and Mike and Carolin Gregerson of the Rex donated free passes to the theatre, and a free soda and popcorn, to boot, for our VolunTeens. These are really wonderful, special people, I bemoaned to Adrienne.

“Why don’t you write the column about Alzheimer’s—early onset,” she suggested with a laugh.

It wasn’t a bad idea. When I began this column I had a nagging suspicion that I had already written one on this subject, but David couldn’t find it in the Observer index.

“Are you afraid you’re going to plagiarize yourself?” asked Adrienne.

My encounter with thank you note writing began with expressing gratitude for the wedding presents we received 25 years ago. David, who had a childhood of proper training in the art of thank you notes, must have been bored by the traditional note writing. His plan involved taking photos of us using each of the presents and then accompanying the photos with a note. In those days, he developed his own film and printed his own photos—I think it was a long time before those notes made their way to their recipients.

I asked my children about their thoughts on the subject. Not wanting them to adopt my evil ways, I’d always impressed upon them that they had to write notes for gifts received.

“You seemed more concerned about that than anything else,” said Ben.

He didn’t sound too happy about it either.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It seems like it was the most important thing. You were always on us to write them,” he said.

“You made us do them and now I always do—it’s ingrained in us,” said Rozee.

Maddie might not include herself in that assessment. She seems to be following in my footsteps.

“I make the cards, but never write in them,” she lamented. “I write the cards and never send them.”

But if it’s the thought that counts, she’s still ahead of me.

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