If you like color
That red, white and blue combination you've been seeing lately in the News-Press is the result of planning by Rick Baldwin, ad manager, Jerome Keran, plant superintendent and production by Chuck Johnson and Jim Ezell on the press.
We've been "bitten" by the Bicentennial Bug and the men (and women, too) like to see the color jobs "roll off" the Goss Community offset press.
The News-Press has made a number of improvements over the years in the machinery department, but our best commodity is the people doing the job. When people enjoy their work, they put out a better product. We're fortunate to have people who take pride in the paper. It's what we call putting out a clean sheet.
And speaking of the new equipment, The News-Press was the first daily newspaper to convert to the offset method of printing and we also have the only newspaper printing press in three or four counties.
Most of the "old" went out. We still have one linotype that is used occasionally. Everything else is done with zippety zip phototypesetting computers with blinking lights.
Judy Huebner, our circulation manager read this the other day.
"Old linotypes make good boat anchors."
It's cycle time.
Harold Rowe, owner of Charger Park, Inc., is looking forward to opening the 1976 motorcycle season with moto cross racing Sunday.
The park opened up last season and a great deal of enthusiasm by the promoters and a lot of interest by contestants and cycle fans.
Practice begins at 9:30 with racing to start at noon. Harold is optimistic about this season. He's looking forward to hosting major races for cyclists in several states.
The number of cycles is growing. Terry Coble has two "dirt" bikes that he runs at the sandpit in practices. Bill Seier has had his bike out several times during the winter, Ed Thomas parked his fifth-wheel camper and is on two wheels and . . . oh, no. Wirth Davis has now mounted one of those fire belching, flame throwing machines. Mercy!
Now, it's in the spring a young man's fancy turns to . . . kick starters, two cycle engines, leather boots and helmets.
Give 'em hell, May (Whyte)
My hair is white, I'm almost blind, The days of my youth are far behind. Can't hear half what's being said. My legs are wobbly, can hardly walk, But glory be I still can talk. This, then, is the message I want you to get, I'm still kicking. I ain't dead yet!
LITTLE BUCK NOTE: Mrs. Whyte is 90-plus years young. Her birthday is May 9, of course.
Jerry Gilliland, owner - manager of Weinman Auto company, has returned from a filming he will remember for a long time.
Jerry was one of three or four General Motors dealers in the country selected to make a 1977 training film for GM sales people.
As the Nebraska City man will tell you, making a film is not as simple as it may seem. It requires many hours in makeup and under glaring and hot lights. "It was new and fun, but it took a lot of work by a lot of people," Jerry says.
The job took long days for the better part of a week for an hour and a half film.
"What the heck, I enjoyed it," he said. The film will be available for showing in Nebraska City.
The Class Reunion.
The note said that for a fine dinner and good fellowship, I should attend the Wasington, Kans., high school reunion this May.
It's been a number of years since I returned to the old hometown school.
I didn't recognize anyone then. They all looked so . . . so much older.
I remembered the football star and spotted his smiling face from across the gym. We were close friends through four years of FFA and teammates in sports.
As he stood and extended that scoop shovel-sized hand I looked at it and his broad shoulders and remembered his high school nickname, "Stud."
The ole' Washington Tigers are back in town. Look out . . . chilluns . . . they'll tear up the town . . . until the 10 o'clock news-bedtime!
There were many "oldtimers" I did recognize. The oldtimers don't forget. They remember faces and names and they make you feel welcome in any strange room.
I was stumbling around the gym attempting to remember names and introduce ex-high school chums to Millie when I felt a tug on my shirt sleeve.
"You're a Beaumont boy," the soft voice said.
I turned and faced a frail and silver haired senior citizen with a twinkle in her eye and a warm and firm grip in her hand.
"Mrs. Hennon," I said. "I didn't think you'd remember."
"I remember YOU," she said with a smile and sparkle. "You're the Beaumont boy who used to peddle rainsoaked Saturday Evening Posts around town."
We both had a good laugh, although at the time I did make those soggy sales, I wasn't the most popular door-to-door salesman the following week.
"That was nice," Millie said as we were driving home that night.
"Huh?" I asked.
"The visit you had with Mrs. Hennon. It was nice of her to remember . . . you never mentioned it before."
"Oh, uh . . . forgot . . . that was in 1937," I answered.
"That explains it," she snorted. "You've talked for years about your two paper routes and that Elgin bike, but not about the Saturday Evening Post."
"That was some route. Used to make as much in tips as I did selling magazines after people saw me clunkety - clunk down streets with a stack of magazines. Had 50 or 60 customers."
"How did you manage the weight?" she asked.
I explained how my mother made me a special bag that fitted over a shoulder and hip and then how I made several trips from my pick-up place at Smith's Drug Store.
"Strange, isn't it?" I asked.
"What?" she said.
"Oh, it's strange that such a precious and frail person would remember an incident like that for so many years."
"Ummmhuh," she answered, "It makes a high school reunion something . . . special."