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.
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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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2002.10.23 Laugh away the tears

Written by David Green.

Here come those tears again

Just when I was getting over you

Just when I was going to make it through

Another night without missing you

Thinking I might just be strong enough after all

When I hear your footsteps echoing in the hall

— “Here come those tears again”

Jackson Browne & Nancy Farnsworth


I am fairly certain Jackson Browne wasn’t thinking of 44-year-old women mourning the loss of their mothers when he co-wrote that song back in 1976. And I sure wasn’t thinking about the possibility of life without my mother back when I was buying his albums as a college student. But lately, those title lyrics run through my brain whenever I start missing my mom, who died a year and a half ago.

Yes, time to brace yourself, here comes another one of those columns that threatens to explore the anguish of grief, plumb the depths of distress, wade in the murky waters of woe. Oh, just ignore me, it’s those tears again. I feel as if I’m having an on-again-off-again relationship with grief. It comes to visit and I keep trying to shoo it out the door.

“Here’s your hat. What’s your hurry?”

But it won’t be urged along like that. It settles in and puts its feet upon my couch, prepared to spend the night if it has to, until it shakes the tears out of me.

I try to avoid the critter, especially when it rears its head through my favorite recreational activity: reading. Certain articles in magazines, certain books: I just look at the title and think, no, not for me, I couldn’t handle that right now. They fall into the don’t-go-there category of reading material selection.

So, I don’t know what the heck possessed me to bring home a book like Michael Raleigh’s, In the Castle of the Flynns, in which a seven-year-old boy becomes orphaned when his parents die in a car accident. Both parents’ families vow to bring him up and share in the care of him.

I’d read a review of it in a catalog and thought it might be something to buy for the library, but I interloaned it first. I enjoy stories about the Irish and this one has a different twist, set in Chicago. Orphan that I am, I just wasn’t linking myself to that state of affairs. I’m a big girl now, right? But when I read the following line from Castle of the Flynns, I was a child all over again—a motherless child, at that, and the tears just kept on coming.

“...I became convinced that I lived an unprotected life, that I had lost a sort of mystical shield afforded to each child at the outset of life, and that the love of these grandparents, uncles, and aunts was a poor substitute for the genuine article.”

That’s exactly how life without my mother seems sometimes—the mystical shield of love and compassion gone, and nobody capable of enveloping me in that motherly armor.

But daily life goes on. It astounds me, the capacity of the human heart to mourn deeply but laugh loudly, to feel sadness but still smile, to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous children....

I’m reading an article that explains, with inside information and eye-opening insight, the workings of George W. Bush and the situation with Iraq. It makes so much sense I want to share it with my children.

“Man, this article is so amazing. It explains everything about how the world works,” I say.

“Can I have the comics?” says 13-year-old Maddy.

“Let me read this to you,” I say.

“We don’t have time for this. We’re on a tight schedule,” says 16-year-old Rosie.

“I have to go now,” says Rosie’s friend Sarah.

My nights can be filled with sadness and sorrow, but still, even when my children reject my efforts, I can laugh.

And I’m still chuckling when I find stray notes jotted down when we’re packing for a trip to New York. Maddy is explaining to a friend how to get more clothes into a suitcase.

“If you roll them, they’ll be smaller,” she says.

And her dad, the consummate light traveler adds, “If you burn them, they’ll be smaller yet.”

But of course, there’s still the “but...”

Humor is one of the greatest gifts of the universe, but it’s not always a match for one of life’s cruelest jokes, that we all have to die. And I know it won’t be long before I’ll be singing the Jackson Browne blues.

Here come those tears again…

    – Oct. 23, 2002 

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