I’m not an historian…or is it “a historian”? None-the-less I would like to take this opportunity to share a childhood memory of mine that involves what we thought was a chance meeting with the President at the time.

My sisters and I had this habit of chatting during mass each Sunday. We children would sit between our parents and Dad would rest his arm on the pew behind us, if we got too carried away with giggles or whisperings he would tap our heads….gently with his ring…to remind us to face forward, button our lips, and pay attention for you never knew, the possibility of learning something was always afoot.

One Sunday at the Morse Bluff Catholic Church, in the mid-1970s, we kids were gawking around the church before mass began, commenting on various things that little girls find amusing, and I remember, like it was yesterday, one of us innocently asking Mom; “Isn’t that President Ford sitting over there?” I imagine “Watergate” and President Ford’s recent, impromptu inauguration were hot topics in everyone’s house at the time so he must have been fresh on our minds for that reason. She shot back with the obligatory mom response of “What?!?” So we pointed…you know, without actually pointing….toward the unsuspecting man sitting behind us, over a little, and couple of rows back. Mom, nonchalantly looked back in the direction of our small fingers, made visual contact, snapped forward, and her face took on a grin that quickly lead to a stifled, though church-appropriate, laugh. She looked at Dad, leaned across us, whispered something to him and then, they both were laughing. We sat there, dumbfounded with our own “What?!?” expressions. They smiled throughout the next hour.

After the service, Mom couldn’t wait to go up and talk (bravely I remember thinking) to the 38th Presedient of our United States. Okay, so he actually turned out to be one of our neighbors: Mr. Leonard Kavan; a man of presidential stature in his own right, mistakenly identified as President Gerald Ford by three curious and creative young ladies. The grown ups had a big chuckle at our expense and that is something I personally loved to acheive as a child anyway, the hilarity was lost on no one.

This little archived file came to the forefront of my mind, the week between Christmas and the New Year, when I first heard the news of former President Ford’s passing. He was the first president of my memory, he was a man respected, he stepped up to the plate when called upon and did his best for our country, he was truly larger than life for myself and many others. I just wanted to take this moment to remember him in my own way.

—North Bend Eagle 10 Jan 2007

I don’t know about you but I have had a fabulous year!I know, I know, we typically take a look back in January or during that overstuffed week after the holidays, but I just can’t help myself. This is truly the year for reflection and for scaling back on that holiday, over-expenditure indulgence before it’s too late. With the price of gas increasing despite what the news keeps telling us: (I’m a diesal gal and it’s up to $2.65 again! I don’t know how you farmers do it!) The grocery bills have doubled since this time last year and the Christmas “junk” has been on the shelves since late September! Now is the time to slow down and take account of our good forturne, to be thankful, and to give instead of spend.

Let the shopping frenzy cease and focus on being together, share the great stories, bake with the “sistas”, brag about the one that got away, watch a great game or whatever without spending ridiculous amounts of money on gifts that the kids forget about and the adults exchange. Who out there has trouble finding room for their children’s or grand children’s toys? Wouldn’t most of us agree that we simply don’t need anymore?

Grandma Simanek used to give us each a new pair of socks with a two or five dollar bill stuffed inside. That was it. The socks were great, but I have no memory of their color and I don’t know what happened to the money, what I do remember about the Simanek Christmas of my childhood is the smell of “peppernuts”, the crunch of the “rosettes”, and the never ending sea of kolaches cooling in Grandma’s kitchen throughout the month of December.

For some reason, Grandma made incredible amounts of peppernuts and kolaches toward the close of each year. She gave us gallon buckets of the crunchy, anise cookies and she froze the kolaches to pull out and rewarm; in the oven, not a microwave, whenever we came to visit. I’m a little older now and I cherish a few of her recipe cards, penned in her hand, placed prominently on the insides of my cupboard doors. My daughter Justice always anxiously asks when we are going to put up the tree and decorations. When a toy catalog comes, she will thumb through it, but what she drives me most crazy with are the questions like: “When are we going to watch Christmas movies and make the peppernuts mom?” “Am I old enough to mix the batter this year?” “What colors of frosting are we going to use on the rosettes?” “What gift are we going to make for everyone this year?” Her excitement about these things are my most treasured Christmas presents.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that we need to ask ourselves if we should reconsider that Saturday where we take our kids to the sitter, yet another day this week, so we can “Christmas” shop for them. Maybe they would rather we spend that Saturday at home….doing somehting more fun, more memorable, and more affordable than buying meaningless gifts that those little recipients soon toss aside.

Wouldn’t it be great to be sitting here after the holidays, reflecting upon the entire year, and looking forward to the next without having to worry about the credit card bill accumulated over the next few weeks? And though it’s not appropriate to pat oneself on the back, we could also reflect on all of the “giving” we were in the position to do…some ideas for you: Give an unsuspecting neighbor a plate of festively decorated sugar cookies, give a couple of quarters and a few kind words to every bell ringer you pass, give a call to a friend you haven’t spoken to in years, give a Christmas card to someone you’ve had a falling out with, give blood, give your time to your children, give a stupid joke to a tired and frazzled cashier at a busy department store and make her laugh in spite herself, give a hug to a co-worker, give a phone card to an active duty soldier, give actual eye-contact to people you give a “Hello” to each day, give a warm , cozy sweater to a child without one, give a freshly plowed driveway to your snowed-in neighbor, give a cup of hot chocolate to the person on the other side of your cubicle at work, give your voice to a needy choir, give your shoulder to someone who needs one, give your love to your family unconditionally; you get the idea. I can almost guarantee these “gifts” won’t be tossed aside and forgotten like so many of the toys we so frivolously buy and buy and buy.

Speaking of buying….I hope I can control myself….I do really well with this concept and then I panic right before Christmas. So …..if you see me running feverishly around Gordmans or Target on the 24th….holler at me and remind me of what I wrote!

Happy Holidays Everyone!

—North Bend Eagle 13 Dec 2006

By the time you read this it’ll all be over. The evening phone calls, the costly dinners, the loud arguments, the lying, the cheating, the back stabbing, the apologies, the begging for money, the empty promises, some dreams dashed, some fulfilled, and once the die is cast; we can only hope for a positive outcome.I’m not talking about marriage…I personally wouldn’t know anything about that….I’m talking abuot our most recent exercise in the electoral process. I don’t care who you are, it has to affect you in some way. Whether that be annoyance, disgust, or an adrenaline rush. Our right to put our two cents in is unique and empowering, at least it should be. If you think your opinion won’t make a difference, if you think none of this is any of your concern, if you think you don’t have time to learn enough about the issues to vote, you are simply worng. You can do it! I have complete faith in your abilities.

To celebrate my birthday this past June, my daughter and I set out early for a girl’s day out, just the two of us. Our first stop on our way to Omaha was the courthouse in Wahoo to put my name in the ring for one of the two open Morse Bluff Village Board seats. We discussed the political process while we shopped and during lunch but I must admit, she was the one who pressed me to define my stance on the issues. Kids have a way of simplifying what we complicate and they tend to get to the truth so much more quickly, without the drama or emotional tangents.

The idea first came about because I got a little incensed about something and I thought; “Someone should do something about this so it doesn’t happen again.” To be honest, the anger was at myself for not being more involved, not voicing my opinion, not showing up, in essence; not doing my part as a citizen of my town. I got to thinking how our little safe haven of Morse Bluff could vanish in an instant if people just stopped caring or failed to keep our best interests at heart.

Morse Bluff is just a microcosm of our country. You hear so many people arguning about the war, criticizing each others’ opinons, and let’s not forget the countless heads hung low during the unfortunate reality of so many military funerals in our country over the past four years. Our world can change in an instant because of one decision and how will the powers that govern us know what our best interests are if we don’t register, vote and share our opinions with them? Voting is more of a responsibility than a right and if you are apathetic, if you use some lame excuse like; “I’m afraid I’ll do more damage than good because I don’t keep up on the issues”, you are falling short of your responsibilities as a citizen of your country.

Your latest opportunity is past, but you have an extremely important election coming up in two years, you have 730 days, 730 daily newpapers, give or take, to help you prepare and educate youreself. I have another exercise for you to help you with this: sit down with or carry with you a notebook of some sort, or open a new document to be saved on your computer. Begin listing what you believe in; just in general, in regards to your family, your home town, your state, your country. If you are a parent or a relative of a child; write down those things about the world that you hope still exist for them when they are adults, and the actions you think should be taken to preserve those things. This list should be ongoing, constantly edited, and exist for no one but yourself. By putting these things in writing, it will become easier for you to match your true opinions with what you read in the newpapers, magazines, and with what you see on TV surrounding political issues. Try not to get hung up on party lines, no two peole think alike 100% of the time or at least they shouldn’t be encouraged to do so, and no one will know how you vote, it’s completely private, personal and as a result empowering. When you get that ballot in your hand, or on the screen (not as romantic or dramatic as the paper type in my opinion), you step into that booth and you vote….I guarantee you will realize that arenaline rush I mentioned earlier. You know your vote was counted and it is at that moment you will also realzie that your opinion can make a difference!

—North Bend Eagle 8 Nov 2006

Mr. Shakespear coined this term in a colorful reference to what we commonly call “gossip”. To me it’s a much better expression, more appropriately descriptive, and up until I began writing this article; denoted the complete negativity that I was prone to feel toward “idle prattle”. However, I attempt to live my life with an open mind and now I see there are positive aspects to “scuttlebutt” that I have failed to consider.My life experiences have been such that I have had the opportunity to work in several different work places, with multiple combinations demographically: some with all men, some with all women, some of mixed sexes, some workplaces contained people from all over the world with English as their second language, some where the majority were over the age of 65, and I even taught Sunday school for several years with up to twenty 5-year-olds in a class. One common thread to every one of these environments is that the gossip lines remain open and flourish across the sexes, language barriers, ages, wealth, social classes, even up and down chains of command. Humans just can’t help themselves.

Historically, gossip has been around practically since time began and some religions even see it as “sin” or an activity that is strongly discouraged by their faith. On the other hand, gossip is used in most societies, albeit informally, to build relationships and a sense of community, to foster new ideas, to distribute news in a quick and personal manner in the absence of a formal newspaper or in the presence of one. Without gossip, there would be no Paul Bunyan, Johnny Appleseed, or Bigfoot. Imainge the colorless conversation of a completely factual world…it’s enough to change your mind on the subject.

Personally, I love a good story teller, someone who is verbally and physically animated when they speak. It’s about their uninhibited passion for the telling of a tale. In most cases, the conversations in which we participate on a daily basis are mundane and just chit chat; so what is the harm in a little exaggeration, a little narrative indulgence, a twist on the whole truth just to make it more exiting for our listeners? We all love to make people laugh or gasp with disbelief, we all love to hear ourselves speak and I think the positive or negative aspects of gossip center entirely around intent. If the intention is to slander someone, that is what will come out and it’s just plain wrong on several levels. If your pupose is to tell a story and be informative, I think your audience will be much more receptive and entertained if you stick to the truth while you are juicing it up a bit.

Think about it the next time you are enlightening a friend of a friend about your other friend: would the subject of your conversation mind hearing what you are saying? Maybe “foul whisperings” could be replaced with a more positive; “I heard it on the grapevine” if we all just took each other’s feelings into consideration while we are providing an amusing diverasion for our captive listeners.

—North Bend Eagle 11 Oct 2006

We are all hustling around with the kids’ schedules, work, family commitments, second jobs, sitting at the train tracks anxiously pounding the steering wheel, (which by the way does not make the train go by any faster), or just aimlessly driving around trying to find the cheapest, expensive gas. Why is it when someone asks us: “If you’re not too busy could you…..?” We tell them; “No problem, I can make time for that.”I read several books at a time because I’m one of those people that doesn’t have enough time to get through the entire book and yet I don’t want to miss anything either. As a result, I have at least 10 books scattered around the house, bookmarks nestled within their first few chapters, waiting for me to pick them up once again. My friend Fred can tell you how excited I get whe I actually finish reading a book…..all I want to do is discuss, and those around me are forced to participate in the discussion. Now it seems I have more people around me and I am thrilled by the possibilities that might come forth.

The book I finished most recently has to do with Amercians and how our capitalist, more-more-more society is ruining our ability to have truly close relationships with family, with our kids, and my personal favorite: with new relationships. The focus: our inability to slow down and get to know ourselves before we can really get to know one another.

Kind of deep for me too, I’m a simple gal by nature, but the author challenged me with a little exercise, and you know how it is ….I can’t say no. This is all you need to do, I urge you to try this. Sit quietly in a quiet spot, no TV, no books, no music, no other people, no noise, no beverages; clear your mind completely and picture a blank screen only….with no other thoughts….for 20 minutes every day.

Okay so, first of all, 20 minutes? Who has 20 minutes of free time? I don’t know about you, but you might as well have asked me to take a sabbatical and go backpacking across Europe for a year. Secondly, a quiet spot without noise? Where is that exactly? It’s only myself and my daughter in the house and according to our Mayor, it’s kind of boring out here in Morse Bluff, so you would think finding a moment of peace woudn’t be that difficult and yet, somehow it’s virtually impossible. Thirdly, the things I need to do next in the day just keep creeping up on my blank screen, in block form, with little boxes to the left of them. My mental checklist is putting mental pressure on me to mentally check things off….it even happens when I’m sleeping!

So I guess my point would be this, pardon my over-simplification of this author’s intentions. If we are going to have this writer/reader relationship, you need to know up front that I am, obviously, far too busy to get to know myself …so we will never really reach that deep level of interpersonal understanding. If it doesn’t bother you ….I’m okay with an honest, take-me-at-face-value kind of connection….in this day and age, I think it’s better than no connection at all.

For those of you out there who were able to say “No” to the exercise challenge….how did you do that?

—North Bend Eagle: 6 Sep 2006

When Nathan first asked me to write about my home town, my thoughts went immediately to the framed photos hanging in the hallway that is my back porch. If you visit my little home across from the Morse Bluff Post Office, you will see that I have some old, sepia-stained photos of the Morse Bluff District #14 School, the Post Office, and the Morse bluff sign with the population of 128 proudly displayed. I took these pictures when I was back on leave from the Air Force after I returned from my first tour of duty in Italy. The photos are black and white and cheaply framed but they have hung on every wall of every dorm room, tent, apartment, rental house, and base housing unit I have ever lived in. I wanted so badly to get out of here…from the age of twelve, all I wanted was to put distance between myself and this little town. I thought it’s influence would keep me close-minded and simple, my adolescent head so set on making a life that was so much more worldly and so much better than the lives of the family and friends I had grown up with.

I had temporarily forgotten how, as children, we came home from school and within seconds changed into our “play clothes” so we could run out to Sand creek, feel the cool mud between our toes and check on the daily transformation of the tadpoles in the Spring. Summers meant riding our bikes to the Racek’s house where we would be off to our many adventures on Killian’s Hill, or Dodge’s Hill, and every time we found an arrowhead atop Indian’s Hill, our imaginations went wild creating our piece of folklor to go with it.  We would spend hours, high in the limbs of the grand maple in our back yard, reading, thinking, or just dozing.  Everything I know about boys, sex, and life, I learned  looking down at the earth from the limbs of that tree, in retrospect, that might explain a few things.

It didn’t hit me until I was a world away how much I could miss that smell of the freshly turned Nebraska earth during planting season, (I even put some in a jar once and took it back with me to Texas.) No metaphysical, philosophical discussion will ever replace the constant back and forth between farmers about rainfall. I missed driving along the highway during harvest, watching the behemoth machines change the landscape in one afternoon, that smell of burnt husks in the air, and the anxious discussions centered around yields in every grocery store and gas station. For me it was always easier to follow a combine for a few miles than it was to sit for one minute in rush hour traffic in Dallas.

When I finally came home, it seemed as though the town’s heart was aching because of the closing of the school; the grass growing around the playground equipment, a subtle symbol of what we all felt was an unnecessary end. In spite of the inevitable, we Morse Bluffians rallied with the stunningly refurbished Legion Hall bringing in folks from all around and the Morse Bluff citizens coming together financially and physically to build our beautiful Centennial Park. We have a new heart and it beats strongly through the mature and young families with a fresh generation of children to enjoy and ensure the prolonged existence of our lifestyle, our neighborliness, our buffer zone from the problems of the big city….our home town.

We are just South of North Bend, “over the Platte River and to the woods”….we are Morse Bluff, and we welcome everyone to come on over, have a cool drink and a meal at the Bottom Road Bar, sit in the gazebo while your kids play in the park, or plan to have your next family reunion with us at the American Legion Hall.

When I started my own family, I could have moved anywhere in this world, but to me there isn’t a more perfect place and those photos still hang on the walls of my house, but now they simply reminds me of my long journey back home to Morse Bluff.

—Norrth Bend Eagle: 9 Aug 2006