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.

2009.12.23 The ghost of sickness past

Written by David Green.

(Reprinted from Jan. 7, 1998)

Oh, we’re off to a good start in 1998. Things were looking pretty shaky when Maddy got sick a couple of days before New Year’s, but they plunged to rock bottom when four out of five family members went to bed feeling sick on New Year’s Eve.

There’s really no rhyme or reason why I should worry about how the rest of the year will pan out based on the events of the first day of the year, but it’s been five days now and there’s been not a whole lot of improvement and a fair amount of decline.

One bright spot—Rosie’s belly ache turned out to be the gaseous effects of a falafel sandwich, not a stomach flu. She woke up fine and dandy on New Year’s Day.

I was the healthiest member of the family and the only one still awake at 11 p.m. on New Year’s Eve. I puttered around some and then set upon the dirty dishes, determined to clean them before midnight—I didn’t want to ring in the new year washing dishes. I hoped to start on a more creative note—making pecan pie and orzo salad for our annual New Year’s Day gathering.

I was just about finished with the dishes when I noticed Maddy walk into the bathroom. She’d been sleeping on the couch so I could keep an eye on her. I was pleased to see her walking on her own—she’d been too weak to walk—and figured she was getting better. She seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom, but I rinsed the last of the dishes before checking on her.

I had a clue something was amiss when I walked in there and found her standing in a daze, poking her finger at the wall.

“Maddy, are you okay?”

No answer. Her eyes were glazed. I felt her forehead. She was quite feverish.

“Maddy, do you know who I am?”

She looked up into my eyes and said breathily, “A princess!”

Hooey! This was one sick kid. I think I’m a pretty good mother, but I couldn’t fool anyone—I don’t rank up there with royalty.

“Maddy, do you know who you are?”

“I’m Rosie,” she said quite seriously. Well, maybe she really wants to be Rosie and me a princess, but she really didn’t have a clue who I or she was. I thought about calling 911 to report a lost child. Instead, I gathered her up and carried her back into the living room where we settled into the rocking chair. Rocking a delirious child. That’s how I cheered the New Year on.

“Happy New Year, Maddy,” I said at midnight.

She gave no response. I took that as a good sign. At least she didn’t say, “I’m Rosie.”

That’s been the highlight of sickness at our house. Delirium is making the rounds, though. Maddy sent her seven-year-old cousin Kerry back to Minnesota with the flu germs. Uncle Tom e-mailed that a feverish Kerry walked into the room where he was writing and said, “I thought you were going to tell me about Grandma’s slime.” He put her back to bed and she said, “Yi Ho!”

I wish I could yell something that cheerful. Instead I’m yelling, “Life sucks!” only to be corrected by Maddy.

“Life vacuums,” she quietly reminds me.

I know better than to speak vulgar language around my kids. But I am sick and sick of being sick. Yes, on New Year’s Day, I bit the dust and became another victim of the flu.

I don’t know what kind of flu this is—chicken, swine, equine—heck, it felt like the whole dang zoo tromping through my body.

But there are signs that I am getting better. After four days of illness, I began laughing again when Ben did an accurate impression of me hacking up phlegm.

Another sure sign is the little ditties I began making up to describe my level of agony. Here’s my favorite:

Balls of pain

Rolling all around my brain

Running here, flying there

Shooting through without a care

Balls of pain

Rolling all around my brain

Miniature bowling balls—whizzing down the lanes in my brain. That’s what Day 4 was all about. The other three days had their own brand of agony and I’m happy to say I don’t remember all that head pain very clearly.

What does stand out is my very weak legs and the clear impression that polio must be on the rise with me as the newest victim. I think this bout with the flu is God’s way of telling me to appreciate my legs and start using them by walking long distances daily. As soon as those bowling balls stop making strikes with my skull, I’ll be out there lengthening my stride.

Weekly newspaper serving SE Michigan and NW Ohio - State Line Observer ©2006-2016