Inside City Hall, May 20, 2009
Goree school, the end of another era. Recently I had opportunity to chat with a student who did her Junior High years at the Goree facility. There was sadness in her tone as she shared the good times on the bus and just being a part of that small, separate campus. High school was far away from realty but now it looms in the near future.

For what it’s worth I understand her emotions. My Junior High graduation from Sunset was 54 years ago. Is that dating me or what. I remember those years as if they were far more recent. Each grade had its own bus, how special was that? Eighth grade was especially nice, by then we had discovered the opposite sex. To sit by a girl on the bus was as close to a steady relationship as we could get. As a rule those relationships didn’t last long, as least mine didn’t.

We had our own gym and football practice field, complete with goatheads. No artificial turf for us either. We didn’t have face masks back then. They didn’t come until my freshman year when Coach Stewart bought three of the bars. They were all broken before the end of the season.

We had more fun in that short gym, I think we had some function in there every day. Fridays were special, however, because we had fun and games, some kind of competition all the time. My sixth grade year I remember being on a team with Gayle Littlefield, who was an eighth grader. I thought she was the prettiest girl who ever twirled a baton.

There was a little store close to the school building. In those days we were allowed to go off campus for lunch. Sometimes that was a bag of salted peanuts poured into a bottle of coke. Or an RC Cola and a Moonpie. Memories, oh how sweet.

That special time ended and we moved on to the big, old, high school building. Now that was another special time . . . let me tell you about that.

I mourn with the Junior High kids who will become part of the big campus in town. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be good. It’s not the destination that’s so special really, it’s the journey. Enjoy it as you go, you only get one try at it.

“I don’t want to get involved,” they say, as Detroit is shut down and import Chinese GMCs. Munday can fall apart at the seams, but some folks will not get involved. Cars and houses are being vandalized but no one knows anything. It’s as if they know better than to speak up. The city can’t help when people won’t cooperate.

This is where and when I begin my time as mayor. Thank you for your votes and well wishes, now it’s time to get involved in the life of Munday. Unlike President Obama, I can’t promise a quick fix. Nor can I come up with huge sums of money to throw at our needs. I do promise, however, to work hard for the betterment of Munday.

I plan to call a town meeting soon, and we’ll roast marshmellows over the fire. I want the people of Munday to come together with the council, city leaders, and police and talk about things ALL OF US can do together to get Munday back on track. “Back on track” is my motto for moving forward. In my way of thinking Munday was once a vibrant community, full of life and promise. It can be that way again, but it will take a gigantic effort from every one of us.

I think all of you have, or have had, a dream for/of Munday. I want everyone to share those dreams with the rest us. Write letters to the editor and share your dream. If you will do that, we have a new beginning already. What we all want for Munday is just a dream away.

I’m not crazy, I am just a silly, out-of-box thinker who believes in miracles. Please be thinking what you want to say at the town meeting, we will be asking what’s on your minds.