“You aren’t going to keep that?” my wife asked as I placed the Kaye Lani poster in the “keep” pile.

We were taking part in an annual rite of Spring in our new house. We were going to have a garage sale and I was turning our utility closet upside down.

Sheepishly, I placed the 18-year-old poster onto the sale tables and sulked. This was a bit embarassing. I’m no pageant guy. I’d rather watch a game of hockey than teenage girls trying to find the solution to world peace.

But there was something about that picture that gave me pause. I remembered the day that Monroe’s Miss America landed in that little corporate jet at Custer Airport. My whole family stood there as her car passed along the airport access road. “She waved!” we all yelled excitedly.

Later that day, we headed downtown along with 90% of the county. People hung on bridges and others sat on every curbside. This was going to be a “Monroe Event” with no equal. This was a proud day and we were going to walk down the pink carpeting that blanketed the downtown streets.

As we neared the courthouse steps, we saw all of the usual suspects. Congressman Dingell was there. The mayor and local officials were all trying to bask in the reflected glory. And then the sparkle of the tiara passed on by, sped on by the clomp of carriage horses.

That day, Monroe was the small town that everyone wanted it to be. We were united in pride for one of our own.

So, it was with more than just a bit of happiness that Friday passed and Saturday, too, without any legitimate offers for the picture. No one in Adrian seemed to realize the emotional import of that little poster. It was going to survive the garage sale.

Now, every time I change the oil or try to figure out how to build that neat little Sam’s Club shelf that seemed like such a good idea to buy, I have Kaye Lani looking down at me.

I wonder whatever happened to that pink carpet?

Trackback URI | Comments RSS