The final Margin Call

The goat was unforgettable.

Just a little kid, he weighed less than a pound. The farmer who raised him was delighted to talk to a News-Press reporter about the adorable little creature.

Other story assignments provided some exciting experiences, but the ones that linger most are ordinary people.

The Harms family at Weatherby shared about the ups and downs of life on a century farm. Neighbors gathered to put up hay for a National Guard soldier doing a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Philip Schwarz was a farm kid who made a mark in his high school not for sports or good grades, but his character.

The field day at Hundley-Whaley Farm in Albany, Mo., always served as a sort of benchmark. It was the first ag event I covered at the News-Press. As the years went by, I looked forward to returning and catching up with farmers and Extension staff, marking the end of another growing season.

That’s one of the things I enjoy most about this land, how the changing seasons give rhythm to the passage of time, recalling seasons past and signaling another change ahead.

I love how in the summer, the hills roll over each other with ten thousand shades of green. In the fall, the whole town’s schedule revolves around Friday night football games and marching band performances at halftime. We trade tips for cooking chili and fighting colds in the winter, then throw open the doors and plant tomatoes in the spring.

These common experiences draw us together and make us stronger.

It tickles me how excited St. Joe got about the opening of Target, Olive Garden and Jimmy Johns. In the darkest days of the recession this winter, I talked to far too many workers who lost their jobs. But I always discovered a dose of hope as the newly unemployed talked about finding another job or going back to school or making a fresh start.

Ten years I have been an agriculture and business reporter with the News-Press. It’s like having a front row seat to the defining moments of the region’s history. Please note that front row seats at planning and zoning meetings are not always as exciting as you might think.

That’s why a good goat story can really make your day.

I’ve worked at newspapers since I graduated from college. And now, it is time for new adventures.

Next week I’ll be striking out on a new career. Though changing jobs, I’m staying in this part of the country. This is where you can find a good tenderloin, start each conversation with a weather report and encounter neighborliness even far from home.

Thanks for reading, neighbors.

Answering the call to a new job

About a month after I bought my laptop, I sat down in church for the Sunday morning worship service and opened up the bulletin. An announcement about the church’s partnership with a health agency stated: Hospice is looking for someone with writing ability and a laptop.

Why didn’t they just print my name in the bulletin?

For all those times I poured out my heart, telling God I’d do whatever he asked that he just needed to make it clear, this was my answer.

I called the hospice volunteer coordinator and attended an informational meeting. Afterward, she asked if I wanted to be a volunteer. She didn’t realize I had no choice, I had already been assigned.

Nevertheless, I was scared to death the first time I went to meet with a hospice patient to record his life story.  I discovered an unexpected blessing in spending time with those at the end of life.

Talking with hospice patients and writing their stories has been squeezed in with work, church and other commitments. Several times over the last two years I wished there was a way to make a living as a hospice volunteer.

Meanwhile my paying job has undergone several transitions. Newsroom staffing has decreased and those left must be more versatile as print merges with broadcasting and online media. I believe there is a future in journalism, it’s just not mine.

But what exactly did I want to do? I’d worked at newspapers since I graduated college and those skills didn’t seem to translate well to other fields. I was also committed to staying in the area.

Then I saw the listing for a volunteer coordinator for Abundant Life Hospice. It became clear why all those other openings hadn’t worked out. At the job interview, the CEO pointed to a portrait of Jesus and said the boss’s picture was on the wall. It’s a philosophy I can embrace.

I’m excited about July 6, the start of a brand new career with Abundant Life, an agency serving Northeast Kansas and Southeast Nebraska.

July 2 will be my last day at the News-Press, a place where God just as clearly called me to begin work on Sept, 1, 1999. I’ve made many friends, met fascinating people, written stories about flooding, droughts, utility rate increases and quarterly earnings reports.

I’ll miss the Margin Call column most of all, but because the new job is part time, I’ll be doing some freelance writing and may have a chance to do some of my favorite types of writing.

If you’re interested in volunteering with hospice, give me a call. You never know where it might lead you…

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” Isaiah 30:21

God texts the Ten Commandments

Texting – I both love it and hate it. It’s great to communicate quickly and instantly. But the spartan format creates plenty of opportunity for misinterpretation.

These Ten Commandments posted on McSweeneys are a humorous look at both God’s hard and fast rules and the language of texting.

By Jamie Quatro

1. no1 b4 me. srsly.

2. dnt wrshp pix/idols

3. no omg’s

4. no wrk on w/end (sat 4 now; sun l8r)

5. pos ok – ur m&d r cool

6. dnt kill ppl

7. :-X only w/ m8

8. dnt steal

9. dnt lie re: bf

10. dnt ogle ur bf’s m8. or ox. or dnkey. myob.

M, pls rite on tabs & giv 2 ppl.

ttyl, JHWH.

ps. wwjd?

And the Lord said to Moses, “Say this to the people of Israel: You saw for yourselves that I spoke to you from heaven.” Exodus 20:22

Margin Call: Raising a glass to dreamers

If you’re feeling down about the future of American business, may I suggest buying milk.

Trek out to the Shatto Milk Co. country store near Osborn and chug a glass of ice-cold chocolate milk. It will be refreshing on a hot day and the story behind it is pure inspiration in a bottle.

The first time I met Leroy Shatto, I was a new ag reporter at the News-Press. A group of German farmers wanted to see an American dairy, and Leroy gladly opened up his milking barn. At that time, it was a typical Missouri dairy, milking cows twice a day, selling commodity milk at razor-thin margins and bracing for the next drop in prices.

One facebook friend at a time

Of all the things Facebook has given our society, the greatest, I believe, is that it has transformed the word friend into a verb.

Before the social networking site pervaded interactions, you could only make friends or be friends. On Facebook, you put up a page with your photos, as much personal information as you feel comfortable sharing and give status updates about what you’re up to.

If you want someone to be able to look at your data, to know if you are going out to dinner tonight, have to mow the yard or are so excited it’s finally Friday!, you can send a request to be their friend on Facebook. For short, you friend them.

The awkward social sentences this generates are manifold.

Margin Call: Pony Express rides again!

Pony Express Rider

Dueling mayors attended the send-off for the Pony Express this week.

Mayor Ken Shearin, standing tall in a Stetson, administered the oath to the riders who on Tuesday morning re-enacted the historic event of the first letter to leave St. Joseph for the West Coast.

From the rooftop of the Patee House Museum, Bob Ford resurrected Meriweather Jeff Thompson, who was mayor when the Pony Express launched.

Thompson was a colorful character, a native Virginian who fancied himself a poet. He sided with the Confederacy in the Civil War and tore the flag from St. Joseph’s post office.

Historians still point to that moment as the beginning of the end of St. Joseph’s meteoric rise.

Margin Call: A potholed path to progress

Fear of a flat tire kept me from making it all the way down the next great Avenue of Progress.

Beaver Street is poised to be the long-awaited viaduct into St. Joseph’s industrial South Side. A new bridge will spring off King Hill Avenue, span the railroad tracks and touch down just east of Stockyards Expressway at Beaver Street.

The little street won’t show up on most maps and requires a lot of zooming before it registers on Google Maps.

It’s hard to find at street level, as well, since it has no signs or markings of any sort. The road is just to the north of the former Seitz plant on Stockyards Expressway. Midwest Scrap Management now has a busy recycling operation at the site.

Beaver Street is paved, in a way, with a chip-and-seal covering, although it’s been awhile since it was either chipped or sealed. The potholes are deep enough a call to a tow truck might be in order if you fell in one.

Margin Call: Show me a recovery

On the quiz “How Missouri Are You?” I earned the top score.

Except for one best-forgotten year, I have lived in Missouri my whole life. That’s why you’ll have to “show me.”

Consumer confidence shot up this month. The move was unexpected by economists, but not to most working folks. The economists simply underestimated how grim the situation felt through the winter. Consumers were searching for any glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel and grasped at anything as a reason for confidence.

All along the horizon, lights are breaking forth as the recession cracks and brighter days surely loom ahead. But, as a Missourian, you’ll have to “show me” before I’ll be convinced.

Margin Call: Mirage vision of downtown

Consultants, with the trendiest of vocabulary, recently met with “stakeholders” to “map out” a “vision” for revitalizing Downtown St. Joseph.

I sat in on a bit of the planning session. It included a survey of Downtown’s strengths and weaknesses. I didn’t turn my survey in for the consultants, so I’ll share my responses here.

What are your favorite aspects of St. Joseph’s Downtown?

Downtown has a distinct sense of place. It’s been said many times, but the rich architecture creates a unique environment that is entirely St. Joe.

What are your least favorite aspects of St. Joseph’s Downtown?

Garden is where the heart is

The sun broke through the light haze of a July morning in Northwest Missouri.

It was Fourth of July and with family visiting, we were up early to get the most out of the day.

I ventured out to the garden, the sense of expectation building as I walked down the green bean row to peek under the leaves. So excited to see the tender beans, just barely big enough to harvest, I dashed back to the house.

“Emily,” I called to my 13-year-old niece, “we have to pick green beans!”

I headed to the closet for an ice cream bucket to hold the bounty. We’d need at least two, maybe even three.

Behind me, Emily groaned. “Do we have to?”

I stopped rummaging and looked at my niece rubbing her sleepy eyes. In that moment, I realized that the transformation was complete. Not so long ago, I had been a grumpy teenager complaining about working in the garden. Now, here I was — I had become my mother.