Marion Duncan Thompson, obituary

Marion E Thompson, 84 died suddenly at her home in Mt Morris on Friday, December 22nd 2023.

Marion was born May 7, 1939 to Robert and Lola (Blake) Duncan, Mt Morris. Marion attended Mt Morris schools and graduated Class of 1957.

Marion married John G Thompson on March 17, 1961 in Mt. Morris, IL. Marion is predeceased by her parents of Mt Morris, sister, Barbara (Duncan) Satterfield, brother in law, Donald Satterfield of Genoa IL and niece Heidi Brooke Ann (Duncan) Tintori of Sterling IL

Marion was employed at Kable Printing/Quebcor/QuadGraphics as Purchasing Secretary and later as Office Copy Department Manager and retiring after 30+ years.

Survivors include her son and daughter-in-law, John R (Jack) Suzanne Thompson, Mt Morris; daughters, Kim Duncan (Tim Cox), Mt Morris and Tammy Knott, CO.; 6 grandchildren; Troi (Terra) Knott, Tonya (James) Joseph, Kristin Alexander (Mitch Mann), John M (Jay) Jessica Thompson, Kraig (Stephanie) Duncan and Shauna (Michael) Raimondi and 12 great-grandchildren with another on the way. Brother Steve Duncan of Mt Morris and sister Linda (Duncan) Gary Nesemeier of Byron IL along with several nieces and nephews.

Marion enjoyed and loved time spent with family, her children and grandchildren, her early years of camping and later their cabin along the river, gardening, studying/watching hummingbirds, Sunday family lunches, yearly family reunions and being active and involved with her High School Class of ‘57 outings, reunions, daily coffee-clutches and traveling. She also spent her early morning hours faithfully reading her devotional and Bible. Actively involved over the years within the Disciples United Methodist Church in Mt Morris by serving as a past pre-k Sunday school teacher, Choir member, served on various committees and the Prayer Shawl crochet/knitting group.

Funeral services will be held on Thursday December 28, 2023 at 11:30 AM in Disciples United Methodist Church, Mt. Morris, IL; with Pastor Marcia Peddicord officiating. Burial will be held in Oakwood Cemetery, Mt. Morris, IL. Visitation will be held on Thursday December 28, 2023 from 10:00 AM until service time in Disciples United Methodist Church, Mt. Morris, IL.

From Finch Funeral Home: https://www.finchfuneral.com/obituary/Marion-Thompson?

Remembering our “golden” past of the 1950s

It’s interesting that even liberals who see everything in the 21^st century as dark, racist and the fault of the GOP, can think of the 50s-60s in Mt Morris, Illinois (or Oregon, or Polo, or Columbus, Ohio) as a time of a golden era. I read a lot of blogs, and that misty, foggy view is common among 70-80 year olds. My husband whose high school was larger in acres and people than Mt. Morris, thinks the same thing. Of course, it’s not true; go through your high school annuals and you’ll see people who were white, but were marginalized because they were fat, or ugly, or low intelligence or unathletic or who never got the help they needed or who dropped out of school after 7^th or 8^th grade at age 16 or 17.

(I think this is 1954, confirmation class Trinity Lutheran for 1957 graduates) 

The U.S. in 2020 is so much less racist, less unfair, with more opportunity and ladders to success for the poor than we enlightened folk of the 50s could have ever imagined. We had devoted, but poorly paid teachers, and today the average hourly wage for a public school teacher is over $67/hour—far more than accountants, architects, librarians, farmers, and muffler repairmen. And statistically, there are far fewer poor and marginalized all over the world. Unfortunately, there’s something about being human – enough is never enough. We’re greedy and ungrateful to God for all he supplies. Slavery is also a bigger trade in the 21^st century than it was in the 18^th yet, U.S. and Europe are expected to take the blame for what happened 300 years ago. Life will never be fair. Some things at the micro-level are better, but the macro tells a more ominous story. And people still use the specter of slavery to grab power as well as to build your smart phone.

The U.S. federal social statistics are difficult to read because they always move the goal, but in 1959, families in poverty in the U.S. were 20.8%, and families headed by women were 49.4% (that was a much smaller numerical figure then). In 2018, the last year for compiled stats, poverty for families was 9.7% and for families head by women 26.8%. https://www.census.gov/data/tables/time-series/demo/income-poverty/historical-poverty-people.html The federal government aid has done a lot to dismantle the economic model of the family, but a lot of economic aid is poured into that mistake, and the female headed households are not the victims they used to be, despite the gap. And as I’ve noted before, I still remember the first time I saw a black man in a TV series (Bill Cosby, I Spy) and the first time I saw a black man as a retail clerk in a major chain (Penney’s, Champaign, IL, early 1960s).

So let’s keep some perspective. And watch for the power grabs of today, much of it happening very quickly in the fog of the pandemic.

Lucille Snodgrass, 1919-2019

I heard this week that Lucille Snodgrass,  the mother of my high school friend Nancy Snodgrass Falzone, had passed away.  She was living at Pinecrest in Mt. Morris, and we should all have a devoted daughter like Nancy—or even a good friend like my brother who visited her there.  Nancy and I used to ride horses together as children, so I remember Lucille and husband Bill who died in 1989 from their days on the farm on Mud Creek Road between Mt. Morris and Oregon.  I’d only seen her a few times in the last 50 years, but my memory of her is a sweet, beautiful, charming, classy gal who was a lot of fun.  I think her passing is the last of the “mothers” that I knew since the 1940s-1950s. I wrote this poem over 20 years ago,  after so many of the women I knew had died, although there were some, including my own mother, who were still alive.

The Mothers of Our Childhood
by Norma J. Bruce
February 20, 1997

I have filed a report
and sounded the alarm.
We are missing the Mothers:
They're nowhere to be found.

Strong women disappeared while
I was living away.
Perhaps a moment ago,
a year or a decade.

Housewife, retailer, artist;
teacher, farmer and clerk.
Secretary, volunteer;
No doctor, lawyer, chief.

Velda, Gladys, Marian, Mildred;
Rosalie, Rita, Rose, and Ruth;
Alice, Hazel, Ada, and Esther:
Born during the century's youth.

Finish this list of Mothers
while I go look around.
No, the veil closed behind them;
they're gone. We are alone.

When I searched her name, I found her wedding announcement on a genealogy page for the Freeport Journal Standard:

“10 Sep 1938 : Miss Lucille Moore, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Irvin Roy Moore, North Henderson road, and William Snodgrass, son of Mr. and Mrs. Carl Snodgrass, Mt. Morris, were united in marriage this morning at 10 o'clock at the parsonage of the Trinity Lutheran Church in Mt. Morris, the pastor, Dr. C. H. Hightower, performing the single ring ceremony.
       The bride was dressed in a boy blue dress with Alencon lace jackette, and her accessories were navy blue.She carried a bouquet of pink roses.
       The attendants were Miss Betty Peterson and Ralph Satterfield of Mt. Morris.
       After the ceremony the bride and groom left on a wedding trip to Omaha, Neb., and Denver, Colo.The bride's traveling outfit was a navy blue taffeta ensemble with rust accessories. On their return they will reside with the groom's parents on their farm home near Mt. Morris.”

I know a little bit more about Lucille and Bill than the parents of my other friends because Nancy kept a book of memories, and when she was 69, she put it all together with photos, and made a number of copies, of which I am the owner of one. It includes a wedding photo.  Nancy wrote that her mom was born September 9, 1919, so  she  almost made it to 100—which seems to be pretty common in Mt. Morris.  In addition to working alongside her husband on the farm she also worked at the Conover Cable Piano Factory in Oregon, then later at the Mt. Morris Cleaners

She's finally put her family together

This is my high school classmate Ebba, and her family—in a puzzle which she has put together. She’s in the front row between grandchildren in a red sweater. [Facebook photo]

Wouldn’t it be nice if it were this easy!

 

Ebba's Jan. 6, 1964 wedding.  Jerry died in 2004. 

The class reunion blog has ended

It was time.  It was supposed to be just our 50th reunion blog for the Mt. Morris High School class of 1957.  Now we’re past 60 years since we graduated!  I really appreciate those who contributed stories and photos—Mike Balluff the class president is a great story teller--but recently it was being referred to as “Norma’s blog.” I figured it was time to close the diary (which I actually did in 2010, but I kept updating it so often, I finally went back to occasional posting as there was news).  Before I closed it, I pulled out the updates from 2010 and made them separate entries, mostly obituaries, making them easier to find. 

Facebook really made blogs obsolete, and Twitter is eating Facebook’s lunch, that said, I think Mt. Morris has at least 4 FB pages plus a webpage. Not bad for a small town of less than 3,000 with no high school or elementary school.  At this blog I write on approximately 15 topics, of which Mt. Morris, education, business, medicine, retirement, church, books, films, fashion, food, family, health, etc. are in there with what’s going on in the world.  There’s really a lot of variety also in the 1957 class blog, some funny posts and some sad.  And all the women were beautiful and the men all had hair!

 

September 22, 2018 class breakfast

Yesterday I cleaned out several boxes of negatives from our collective photo albums and found a bunch from the 1950s.  If I find anything pertinent (and someone who still develops b & w), I’ll back date them and add to the class blog.

Class of 1957 has another mini-reunion

On September 22 at 9 a.m. in the Campus Cafe, a few members of the Mt. Morris Class of 1957 met for breakfast. Marion, Ebba, Nancy K, Moe, Lynne, David, Sylvia, Norma, Mary Jane, Nancy F., Jean, Greeley. This class is fortunate to have a very active local committee—this was the third get-together in 2018. 

                                      

Do you still own a "record player?"

We still own a turn table/record player--it's in my husband's office and soon we might start playing the old Christmas records. At the library I saw a 1981 Time Life album of the Statler Brothers for 50 cents, still sealed, so I bought it.

Side One: Flowers On The Wall/You Can't Have Your Kate And Edith Too/Ruthless/Bed Of Roses/Do You Remember These? Side Two: Class Of '57/I'll Go To My Grave Loving You/Who Am I To Say?/Do You Know You Are My Sunshine? Really like that Class of '57 written by the two who actually are brothers, Harold and Don Reid. The group's name comes from a box of tissues in their hotel room when they were starting out.

New trees for the campus

My high school friend and favorite Democrat, Lynne, tells me that four new trees have been planted on the former campus of Mt. Morris College (where my parents and grandparents attended and which closed in 1932 after a fire in 1931). There was a terrible storm in August 2008, and a large number of magnificent trees were lost--many were diseased and frail, but still beautiful and providing wonderful shade and respite. However, trees are not “natural” to this little mound in northern Illinois. According to the Mt. Morris Past and Present of 1900

"The present site of Mount Morris, as stated before, was an open prairie, with not a tree or a shrub to be found. What is now the college campus was then the crest of a hill of considerable size, the country sloping from it in all directions. The early settlers say that before the view was obstructed by buildings and trees, the altitude of the hill was very perceptible. The prairie grass was very rank. In fact, in some places it grew so luxuriantly that it was almost impassable. Most of the ravines and hollows were in a wet, boggy state; and the streams and ponds retained the water from rains much longer than now, because of the absence of tiling in the lowlands. There abounded hundreds of springs, which have long since ceased to flow, owing to the rapid drainage now effected by the work of tiling and the development of the soil."

So, I don't know what the soil in mid-town Mt. Morris is like now, but I'm guessing it's well drained. (The local cemetery where most of my family--parents, great grandparents, sister, cousins, aunts and uncles, etc.--awaits the resurrection used to be called "burial at sea" just to give you an idea of how boggy it was.) However, last week I attended a program on the trees here at Lakeside, a totally different type of soil--very rocky, as this is called the Marblehead Penninsula on Lake Erie (a body of water that has changed shape and size many times since the glaciers passed through here). Our speaker said that for every inch of trunk, the newly planted tree needs 5 gallons of water a week, plus 5 gallons. So if the tree is 2 inches, it needs 15 gallons of water a week to get a good start. There is no way those new trees can get that much naturally. But he told about a wonderful contraption called a tree gator--looks like an ugly green bag attached to the trunk. It holds 5 gallons, and you move it from tree to tree each day, and start over the next week. It's drip irrigation and won't drown the tree the way an impatient employee or volunteer might.

Newly planted trees are under severe water stress right after transplanting. And they will remain under water stress for the first several years after planting. Maintaining soil moisture is especially important during the first three years following transplanting. So how do you prevent transplant shock and avoid water stress on new trees? The answer is simple, Treegator® slow release watering system for trees. Treegator delivers a high volume of water directly to the root system of a newly planted tree.

Maybe this could be a project for the reunion committee.