News from Matherville

Stephanie Surr

I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep my sanity much longer. I can't begin to count the number of times I have started this email in the past few weeks. All gone wrong. All returned. Inept? Perhaps. There must be a name for those of us that are unable to achieve even the most basic of functions on a computer, WAIT!!!

Maybe it's just that I am getting old. I hear that those over a certain age are not as "quick" as the young.

I don't want to think about it.

I attended my (XX) class reunion several weeks ago. Okay. It was my 30th. At times it seems like yesterday. And at others - it seems like 30.

Hadn't seen many of those in attendance in years. A surprise over a few, but probably the same in their corner. What amazed many is that the faculty didn't age as rapidly as we did. One of our former teachers was thought to have been a fellow student. And Mrs. Kay Jackson (still hard not to use that M words) is still a beautiful woman. I have never seen her without that twinkle in her eyes.

It was nice to become reacquainted. I'm glad I went.

One good event that occurred during the reunion was getting to see Mardi Severs Howell again. Discovered that Mardi professionally uses her talents as an artist. Just recently she was among those that had a showing at Riverssance in the Village of East Davenport. Gwen (Ah, I didn't use the Mrs.) Blais and I attended. Many different art forms were represented. The talent is outstanding. Of course, my stick people don't look like stick people.

I was a pleasant afternoon again an even more pleasant time seeing Mardi again.

BIG event in Matherville last week. So big that it even made the LITTLE STORE's sign. What was so -o-o exciting. Someone won $100,000 on a scratch-off ticket from the LITTLE STORE of MATHERVILLE. See, it can happen.

Just a reminder that children's toys and items for adult children are needed at the Viola Methodist Church's pantry. All must be in good shape. Please think about going through your closet for the holiday season. Just give me a call, 754-8830, and I will see how to get it where it is needed.

(Let's hope this goes through)

I wrote the following in the mid '70s. I revised it in summer of 1984.

Once again, we see our CUBS not fairing as well as we would have hoped, but remember...


"Just wait till next year," always came our replies.

For thirty-nine years, to others, those words were just lies.

We held on to pride - for our life we'd not cry. for deep down we knew that they gave it a try.

Year after year, pain upon pain...

But alas, once again, all was in vain.

This year was different, I sensed - I knew.

Our predictions, at last, were all coming true.

We had us a savior.  No! More, not just one.

We cherished; we praised, we gave them the sun. Children were we. Our glee always showing.

Smiles on our faces; Hearts always glowing

Oh, Ryne, you're our hero! So sure when beloved.

But let's not forget all the others we loved:

Sutcliffe, our pitcher, with a ball that just purred;

Our stable veteren, positioned at third;

And numerous others, important to name

With pride in their stances, they grew to acclaim,

"We came, we saw, we conquered, and grew."

All other teams, in their hearts, they just knew.

That try as they must, their faces in wince,

Knew that the CUBS were a sure fire cinch.

They breezed through September, a come-hither month.

They drank and were merry. Their cup over runneth.

A Division, at last we hold in our hands,"

Screeched the Bleacher Bums, amidst in the stand.

"'Wait till next year,' never more will we yell."

"The Pennant is ours. In a week all will tell."

Chicago will bloom with a booming new pride.

No more of the shame will we then have to hide.

So relief to our pitchers, we'll need them to win.

Oh, simply to see on our Jim a big grin.

We waits for Monday, and finally it came. Here we our CUBS, with good fortune and fame.

Now with pride in my thoughts - knew it a sin-"Oh, God, please, oh - I wanted a win."

YES! Now with two in our pockets, a sigh of relief.

On to the Sunshine, in our minds the belief,

"No problem,"" "Relax."   "Just one more to go."

Then, "On to the Series!" where the end we all know.

But something happened. Amiss something went.

All the luck; all the power; all the talent was spent.

"Where was my team? Where had they his?

That wasn't my CUB. Who did he kiss?"


Alas, I was wrong. Those players were mine.

No I did realize, when first I was blind.

They talent was there - at least partially in check.

Just another mind-blowing week, of naturally a wreck

It happens to all, "Remember that now."

And someday, somewhere, someway, and somehow

We're able to acclaim - in our eyes a small tear=

"We won't give in." "Just wait till next year."