When this column comes out, I may have already been buried alive by hundreds of turkeys from the Kokomo Tribune’s coloring contest. This week, I received countless phone calls from little voices squeaking out questions - with some parental coaching in the background - about the deadline for the turkey coloring contest. I had parents call in Monday 15 minutes before deadline, then rush off the phone in a panic to get their little one to our front doors before 5 p.m. to hand over their prized piece of coloring art. Another teaching from the turkey coloring contest: Apparently, the coloring contest isn’t just for the kids; I’ve had teens and all generations send their carefully crafted turkey creations, giving my eyes and desk a pretty cool visual feast.
Since this is my first time manning the desk - or for the past few weeks, the destination for anything that gobbles - I was taken aback by the number of entries and the effort put forth. As I was handed stacks of turkeys such as the bride and groom turkeys who came in their own box, the “Mark Sanchez turkey” who was wearing a tutu or a computer-generated design turkey, I did wonder, “Why?”
But, as my weeks here have quickly turned to months, I answered the question I asked myself before the speech bubble even floated out of my head. “People care in Kokomo.”
And do they ever.
It’s easy for people to show gratitude one day of the year at Thanksgiving, it’s simple for people to empty change out of their pockets for a Salvation Army Santa. But, it takes heart to build We Care Park, it takes thoughtfulness to decorate Christmas trees for Trim-A-Tree. And it takes a caring sincerity to warmly welcome a Kokomo newbie. I’m sure KokoMantis agrees with me on this one!
And a warm welcome it has been.
After my first column, I received emails from people wanting to meet me for coffee or just drop a note to welcome me, one business even sent me a box of chocolates.
In a world of wise-cracking reality shows, negativity can be glamorized more than Hollywood. Kokomo may be just a little nook or cranny in the grand scheme of the world, but it’s a pretty cozy cranny full of people living deeper than the surface and proving a second of sincerity can make a person’s day. It has made mine.
[friday]
Lindsay's column: 11.23.12 >> Caring goes beyond coloring
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Facebooks threads into more than I expected
“Lindsay, what’s on your mind?”
I immediately thought, “I’d have to be pretty self-centered to think my ‘Facebook friends’ would care about such an answer.” So, the section stayed blank on my profile for far longer than most. -
Kokomo Speedway
After 18 interviews, copious note-taking, endless discussions and picture browsing for a story about something bigger than its parts — i.e. Kokomo Speedway — is nearly finished. To be honest, I’d never been to Kokomo Speedway until last year. I grew up watching the Indy 500 and picking a name from a hat, but my racing knowledge ended there. But, when you fall in love with someone who fell in love with Kokomo Speedway — most likely when he was still in the womb as his mom watched his dad race — your knowledge increases, exponentially.
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Earth Day: Experience it every day
“No litterers allowed,” stated the sign I drew up with peace signs and flowers with extra power that adorned my bedroom door as a kid. Growing up, I was a litter patrol lady. Toss a banana out the window? You were going to face the wrath of a 6-year-old. Leave a soda can at the park? Oh my, a mistake you don’t want to make. My cousins would purposely provoke such opportunities for nothing more than to get the entertaining spiel of keeping the Earth safe from a 6-year-old. I encouraged institutionalizing recycling in our household and double-checked trash cans to make sure recycling objects didn’t make their way into the wrong places.
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The Waving Girl
She was born on land, but her soul was given life from her love of the sea and the lives it carried. Her journey started simply and ended sentimentally. During the in-between, she was the symbol of home to the hearts of maritime travelers: At night, she was the illumination of guidance. At morn, she was the breeze the sea gently exhaled. For 44 years, she was ingrained with the Savannah River’s sand — just as she was ingrained in the minds who witnessed her waving handkerchief interrupt a sun ray’s storyline. S
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Never too late for April Fool’s Day
This will be my last column for the [friday] section, as Kokomantis has been promoted from corner-side spectator to Lifestyle Editor ... Just kidding, late April Fool’s Day joke! I look forward to writing my column every week just like I look forward to my favorite “holiday” every year. For 364 days, I plan pranks of all varieties for my beloved day that’s dedicated to flipping my family and friends out.
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The Egg Battle of 1990
Easter may be a time of sugary sweet Peeps and darting for hard-boiled eggs dressed in their Easter Sunday best. For me, it’s been about that and getting back to my roots. Growing up, my family and I nestled into my Pap’s motor home and headed for the mountains of West Virginia – our annual Easter Sunday home for my entire childhood.
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Bracket Madness
As a Hoosier, it’s hard to believe Wednesday night marked my first bracket-building experience. Despite my love for sports, I never got into brackets. I’m a one-team-at-a-time gal so in the fall it’s the Colts; in the winter it’s the Hoosiers; and in the spring and summer I go to baseball games for the people watching and soft pretzels. So, I never learned the pros and cons of other teams and what makes them worthy of winning in a bracket.
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Reality is only as deep as our passions
When I was in seventh grade the “Real World” was a reality show I was forbidden to watch. The behaviors flaunted were borderline unfit for TV, let alone a 12-year-old’s eyes. However, that’s what older cousins were for, I suppose, because my remote somehow found its way to MTV a time or two and lessons in how to not live your life ensued. But, today Howard County 7th graders are getting a multifaceted look into life in the “Real World” — and not the kind that encompasses Jell-O wrestling and TV-censored bleeps interrupting 80 percent of a sentence.
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You belong among the wildflowers
It’s the kind of lyrics that wreck your heart and warm your heart all at the same time. The melody happily whistles well wishes while the fingertips of yearning for yesteryear slip over each note. It’s the kind of song that sounds like the simplicity of childhood and feels like the rare chance of finding and living a childhood-type happiness — even if the years between now and the date on your birth certificate say you’re an adult.
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Save IU School of Journalism
As the doors swing to a close, the pens held at the hands of journalists aren’t writing, the recorders aren’t rolling and the cameras aren’t capturing. The envelope of Indiana University School of Journalism’s future is unfolding, but the details are sealed tightly by Lauren Robel, Indiana University Provost, who recommended the school merge with Indiana University’s College of Arts and Sciences (COAS) last week — expelling the journalistic institution from its Ernie Pyle Hall home and potentially downgrading the nationally-ranked school to a program within the bigger-is-better school of thought.
- More [friday] Headlines
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Britain Attack Believed Linked to Radical Islam
Raw: Kevin Durant Tours Moore After $1M Pledge
Weiner Launches Bid to Become NYC Mayor
Okla. Teens Get Video of Deadly Tornado Overhead
Man Shot While Questioned in Boston Probe
School Storm Protection Spotty in Tornado Zones
9-year-old Tornado Victim Loved Family, Singing
Moore Native Toby Keith Tours Tornado Damage
Oklahoma Survivors, Heroes Survey Damage
Okla. City Mayor: Up to 13K Homes Hit by Tornado
Raw: Aftermath of Deadly Attack in London
Paperless Scanner, Vision of the Future
Florida FBI Shooting Has Boston Bombing Links
Garcetti Elected Los Angeles Mayor Over Greuel
Raw: New Video of Deadly Oklahoma Tornado
IRS Official Pleads 5th Amendment
Lawyer: Feds Investigating Susan Powell Case
