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.
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    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.
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    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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2002.12.04 Waltzing down memory lane with two left feet

Written by David Green.


I don’t know where inner discipline comes from, but I wasn’t blessed with much more than an ounce. I must have been in the wrong line when God was handing it out. It’s a perennial problem of mine: I’m always choosing the wrong line. I’ve begun telling strangers behind me, “You’d be better off picking another line; whichever line I’m in is bound to move slowly.”

There could be only one person in front of me, but it’ll be the person with the most coupons who is writing out a check and hasn’t pre-filled out any of the spaces and will need a price check on an item with no price tag and then will haggle over another item that rang in at the wrong price.

But that’s not what I wanted to tell you about. I’m talking about my terrible reading habit. I’ve done it again: fallen into a good book and can’t pull myself out when I need to do more pressing things such as get to bed at a decent hour.

It’s so hard to put down a book when I’ve entered the life of the character. The Dive from Clausen’s Pier is the book that’s nabbed me this time. The main character has become a good friend and I need to be there for her, just as I am for my friend Adrienne and she for me.

Putting the book aside during an important passage seems like betrayal. It must be what some people experience when watching soap operas. The characters become so real, if you’re a good friend, you’ll be there to listen.

The only way I can handle my compulsive reading habit is to not read at all, an unwise proposition for someone who works in a library. Part of the reason I never wanted a TV in the house when the kids were growing up was because I didn’t want to become an absent mother, sucked into soap operas. But getting sucked into a book: it’s probably even worse. You’re in your own little world. At least your kids can watch a soap with you.

I tear myself away when it’s time to move a load of laundry along. Pull the dry clothes out, put the wet clothes in, add another load to the washer and then back to the Dive.

On one laundry trip to the basement, a small wooden box glowed at me. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed it if it hadn’t been for my brother-in-law, Thom, home visiting for Thanksgiving. He’d spent four hours in his parents’ basement poring over and purging old papers, journals and letters from his past.

Thom’s foray into that territory piqued my interest. I knew that glowing box contained letters from friends written some time during my college years. Like the Dive, it beckoned, and I foolishly answered the call. I discovered 42 letters written by 17 different people from a short span of time—December 1978 to February 1979.

I quickly saw what a mistake this was, how easily time could slip away. And this was just one box! Covering only three months! But, because I have no discipline, I kept reading them and wondering what had become of some of these people and why I hadn’t realized how utterly depressed Pam was, how adrift Barb was, how insightful Greg could be, how unexpectedly funny Kay was even back then:

Jan. 6, 1979: Enclosed you will find a picture I took of Richard and you last year, that I found lying around. I thought you might like to throw darts at it.

I still haven’t got your Christmas present in the mail, and if I don’t get it soon you better buy me something else.

And then there are the mysterious references to events in letters I had written. This one from Adrienne has me particularly perplexed:

Feb. 7, 1979: I, too, cracked up when you wrote about your hair and the plant. I can just see you laughing to yourself in a hat, gloves and scarf while someone tries to check out a book on W.W.II.

I call her at home Monday night to see what she thinks.

“What, are you insane?! Asking me now about something that happened in 1979?!”

We laugh, relive old memories, catch up on current foibles, and 45 minutes later, I notice the time.

“Gosh, how did it get to be 10 o’clock already?” I ask.

“‘Cause you’re doing stupid stuff like reading 25-year-old mail,” she says, and I can see her shaking her head.

“Only Leddy would call and ask me what a letter meant from 1979.”

Only she holds the key, though, for somewhere in her house is a similar box, with my letter to her. But Adrienne has far more discipline than I and it could be years before she succumbs to the urge to reconnect with the past.

I might have more luck matching letters with Debi who was always incredibly organized. I’m eager to know what this was about:

Dec. 21, 1978: Col, your letters are priceless—antiques before their time and very funny to read. Life of a teetotaler, no less! Lori died laughing at that one.

Who the heck is Lori? And what has become of all these other people in my box of letters? I do a search on Yahoo for Greg and when I find his email address, I start to write a note.

And, then, from somewhere deep within, I hear this voice, which sounds a lot like Adrienne, “What, are you insane?!”

I consider the amount of time I’d spend rekindling old friendships, and a surge of sanity overtakes me. I stop writing and trash the letter.

I may not be blessed with much discipline, but at least I’ve been graced with good friends.

    – Dec. 4, 2002 

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