Cool welcome to Jay County (02/14/07)

The envelope looked promising.

In fact, it promised: "Free tote bag!"

Well, I've never been much of a tote bag kind of guy. But "free" always gets my attention.

So I ripped the open envelope to learn: I'd been invited to join the American Association of University Women.

"Guess what," I said as we sat down to have some soup for lunch together on a work day, "I've been invited to join the American Association of University Women."

My wife, I have to say, wasn't impressed. Free tote bag or not.

She has a bit of a history with the AAUW, a brief but colorful history.

More than 30 years ago, when I answered the call to return to Portland as a reporter for The CR, it was Connie's introduction to Jay County.

She'd grown up in Illinois, where her father was an English professor at a small college and her mother was an art teacher.

We'd only been married about three years at that point, but she readily agreed to relocate to her groom's hometown to see what sort of future we could build together.

The American Association of University Women invitation popped up within the first six months. There was a local chapter of the AAUW at the time, and it was a great organization from all I have been told.

Most of the members were school teachers, which is understandable in small town America, where most women with college degrees are likely to teach school.

A wonderful and thoughtful friend invited Connie to join her at a meeting.

As marketing strategies go, it was far more effective than a direct mail offering to a faulty mailing list, even if no free tote bag was included.

So, on the appointed night, back in 1974 or 1975, she went to a meeting.

And all went well.

Pretty much.

Until she was introduced to the other members.

Nearly all were gracious and welcoming.

That's the way Jay County is, after all. If you move here, you'd better be prepared for an onslaught of hospitality.

But in this case, it wasn't a 100 percent welcome.

One of the members, who shall remain nameless, had squabbled with the newspaper in the past. She'd wanted special treatment when it came to printing matters of the public record, and this newspaper has never, while my family has owned it, played favorites when it came to reporting on the public record.

In those cases, the newspaper belongs to the reader more than anyone else. Our job is to try to get the news right, treat everyone equally, and let the chips fall where they may.

But this particular member of the American Association of University Women didn't share that philosophy, and she resented being treated like everyone else.

So, when the time came for this 20-something bride of a Jay County native to be introduced to the craggy AAUW dragon lady, things quickly derailed.

As I recall the story, the woman shook my wife's hand then said (I am reconstructing here), "I never liked your husband's family, and I don't expect that I shall like you."

Welcome to Jay County.

Our friend who had taken Connie to the meeting was mortified. Connie was both stunned and amused.

She ended up not joining AAUW, though not because of her chilly reception. There were simply too many other things to do.

As time passed, the local AAUW folded its tent, finding itself less relevant than it had been a generation before.

And, as time passed, the woman who had offered such a cold reception melted a bit. I had a congenial interview with her in her home a few years before her death; she found that I had neither horns nor cloven hooves.

And all was well.

Except for one thing: No free tote bag.[[In-content Ad]]