Happy 90th 'McBirthday'

Published April 4, 2013

in the Stockton Sentinel

by Nancy Becker

            One of the things I do at the Sentinel is watch all the area newspapers for interesting and otherwise newsworthy stories to include in the “Kansas Klips” column of our own paper. This week I was about to include a story from the Kansas City area until I realized it took place across the state line in KC, MO, so it didn’t meet the “Kansas” criteria. Shucks! You won’t get to read about the box of eyeballs that was found in the trash at a convenience store.

            Another story that I was planning to include was just too cool of a story for Klips. The story bears retelling one way or another, so I saved it for my Notes. This was in the Salina Journal one day last week. It was the story of a birthday party at a McDonald’s restaurant in Salina where the guest of honor, Keith Lilly, was celebrating his 90th birthday by eating his favorite meal. It’s probably not too often that an adult chooses McDonald’s for a birthday party. But that’s not the reason this story hit the front-page news.

            Lilly, who worked 55 years in the treasurer’s office in Salina, retired in 2005 at the age of 82. On the day of his retirement, the Salina McDonald’s named their cheeseburger after him. On that day, patrons of the fast-food restaurant at 2236 Planet in Salina could order a “McLilly.” The honor was appropriate on their part, because Lilly had enjoyed the same lunch practically every weekday since the first McDonald’s franchise opened in Salina in 1969:  a regular cheeseburger, hot apple pie and medium Coca-Cola. Through the years, that would have added up to more than 8,500 cheeseburgers, pies and Cokes.

            Lilly was just 23 years old when he began working in the Saline County Treasurer’s office in 1946. That was nearly a decade before the McDonald’s corporation was founded and franchised across the country. When McDonald’s came to Salina, Lilly began eating at the restaurant at Crawford and Ohio because it was close to the courthouse. It didn’t take long before he established a routine that rarely varied. Lilly would take lunch precisely at 11:30 a.m., travel to McDonald’s and go through the drive-through, pick up his never-wavering lunch and then eat in his car, listening to the radio.

            Fast forward many more years, and Lilly –– together with about 30 members of his family –– celebrated his 90th birthday at the McDonald’s where he had been such a loyal customer while consuming about 8,500 cheeseburgers. With a big fuss being made around him, Lilly enjoyed his birthday dinner, which was, of course, a cheeseburger, hot apple pie, and a Coke. Why change the menu now?

            Lilly, who lives in Mentor, said he doesn’t get to McDonald’s as much anymore since retiring. When asked if he prefers eating McDonald’s cheeseburgers to his wife’s home cooking, Lilly was diplomatic. “When I’m here, I eat here,” he said. “When I’m home, I eat home cooking.”

Good answer. Lilly, who obviously knows a thing or two about loyalty, also knows where his first and foremost loyalty remains. 

A very moo-ving story

 Published March 28, 2013

in the Stockton Sentinel

by Nancy Becker

            One morning, not too long ago, I sat down at the dining room table with my bowl of Scooters cereal and a Cutie, and spread the Salina Journal out in front of me – all normal morning routine. But that particular morning, there was nothing “normal” about the Salina Journal, because on the front page, in full color, was a picture of a cow, peering out of the second-story window of a weathered barn. The subtitle under the headline, “Moo-ving on up,” summarized the story: “Hobby rancher finds out he has a big problem after heifer finds her way into a hayloft.”

            Now I don’t have a whole lot of farm girl in me, but I have enough to know that it would be difficult to get a cow to go up a series of steps. The story that morning was great; in fact, it made my day. So I decided to share it with you, knowing that many of you do not receive the Salina Journal.

            It happened on a cloudy afternoon, and the owner, Brian Schmitt, thought he heard thunder, but he soon discovered he wasn’t that lucky. He found the sound was coming from the hayloft of his barn – an 800-pound problem in the form of an 18-month-old heifer named “Mignon.” (Yes, as in ‘filet mignon!’) There she was, with a forlorn expression that seemed to suggest, “Oops. What do I do now?”

            Somehow Mignon had found her way from the corral through broken gate boards and into the barn, and proceeded to climb the narrow, steep wooden staircase leading to the loft. Whatever inspired her to climb the stairs will remain a mystery, but there she was, stomping around on the rickety upstairs floor. Not even a bucket of corn would coax Mignon down the steps.

            To make a long story short, getting Mignon down from the hayloft took a game plan with some good ol’ human ingenuity, modern medicine and horsepower, but not the four-legged kind. While Schmitt’s father, Alan Schmitt, was on his way over to the farm with a tractor equipped with a loader and a backhoe, Brian began removing boards from the south end of the loft. Alan Myers, a veterinarian that rushed over from Abilene, loaded a syringe with an elixir that would send Mignon to la-la land. Soon after the injection, Mignon wobbled and fell to the loft floor, luckily close to the opening.

            After lifting the backhoe bucket to the opening, it took several men to roll the heifer out of the hole in the side of the barn and into the scoop. Since Mignon wasn’t completely under anesthesia, the rescuers were concerned that she may roll out of the bucket. But as the bucket lowered, Mignon luckily waited until it was about two feet from the ground before she bailed off. It took another couple of hours for the effects of the sedative to wear off, and in the meantime, Mignon staggered around like she was drunk.

            This story was so interesting and delightful, and it is begging for a children’s book to tell the story. I’m so inspired, maybe I’ll do just that! But I’ll leave out the part that Mignon’s corral-mates also have dinner-plate names:  Hamburger Helper and Dinner.

The death of Common Sense

Published March 21, 2013

in the Stockton Sentinel

by Nancy Becker

            Today I share with you someone else’s thoughts about the death of someone we all used to know.

OBITUARY:  Common Sense

            Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

            He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn’t always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

            Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

            His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place.

            Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition.

            Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a student, but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

            Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

            Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.

            Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

            Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.

            He is survived by three stepbrothers: Ino Myrights, Someone Else Istoblame, and Ima Victim.

            Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Hungry for more

Published March 14, 2013

in the Stockton Sentinel

by Nancy Becker

            It was a great week to be a Tiger! The Stockton Tigers made us proud by representing our school and community so well at the 1A-DI State Basketball Tournament in Emporia last week. This group of boys was very well-behaved, always looked nice and remembered their manners. It was a joy to be with them and celebrate their success. These are memories you will remember all your lives, Tigers!

            Way back in the late ‘80s, long before these boys were even a parent’s dream, Bob and I accompanied another group of basketball players to the 1A State Basketball Tournament in Hays. We were there three out of four consecutive years and brought home first-, second- and third-place hardware in those three years. It was such an exciting time, not only for that group of boys, but also for the entire community of Goessel. And everyone went! Goessel folks who had not even followed the team throughout the regular season made the trip to Hays to wear the colors and cheer for their team. Back then, the popular saying was, “Last person to leave town, turn out the lights!” I remember how one entire side of Gross Memorial Coliseum, all the way to the top, was a sea of blue, all cheering for the Goessel Bluebirds.

            My husband was assistant coach for two of those trips, and our youngest son was five years old the first time we were there. Much like Coach Stephens’ young Grant, Brett was everywhere in that arena. I didn’t always know where he was, but I knew I didn’t have to worry about him; there were plenty of Bluebirds to take him under their wing.

            During those years, our community of Goessel learned a lot about town pride. We learned what success feels like and how to wear it. We understood what it means to have “a winning tradition.” The word “community” was no longer just a locale or a dot on a map.

It is events such as state basketball where we all come to understand how important sports competitions are in the lives of high school students and the community that supports them.

            It has been 30 years since a Stockton Tiger boys’ basketball team made a trip to the state tournament. Hopefully the taste of it this year was enough to whet the appetite of some young players and left them hungering for more.

            Tigers, let’s go back for the full meal deal! (And I’m not talking about the Golden Corral!)

Seize. The. Moment.

Published March 7, 2013

in the Stockton Sentinel

by Nancy Becker

            Today is the day! Today is the day the Stockton Tiger fans follow the Tiger Boys Basketball Team to Emporia to cheer for them in their first game of the State Tournament! We are always proud of all of our high school students in the many ways they excel in all they do, but this week we especially celebrate with the boys who have earned this opportunity.

            There are 346 high schools with a boys’ basketball team that are members of the Kansas State High School Activities Association. This week, only 56 of those teams are still competing, and our Stockton Tiger team is one of them. I’m not saying that to brag or gloat; I say that because we, as a community, have an opportunity in the here and now to step up our game, to put our best foot forward, to wear our colors and shout our name proudly. There is no better time or place or reason to polish our reputation than the opportunity at hand.

            So let’s not blow it; let’s seize the moment. May we all be the best we can be, on and off the court, showing the ultimate respect for our team and coaches, our opponents, and the officials. May we all be respectful of our hosts—the City of Emporia and White Auditorium—so that when we leave, they will have only good things to say about our having been there. May we win graciously and take success in stride; but if winning is not our good fortune, then let us all lose gracefully, holding our heads up and congratulating the winners.

            And to these boys, our Stockton Tigers, let us send them to Emporia with this message:  We are proud of you, not only as athletes working towards a goal, but also as fine young men who are representing our community in such grand fashion. We believe in you, and we want you to believe in yourselves and your abilities. You can do this… it’s inside of you; we’ve seen it in flashes. You can bring it out all the time if you work hard and stay focused. Most importantly, have fun—there are 290 other teams in the State of Kansas who would love to be in your basketball shoes.

            Stockton Tigers and fans:  Seize. The. Moment.