Tuesday was a special day of the week for Mitch Albom, the newspaper columnist and author, who re-connected with his mentor and met with him on Tuesdays. I read “Tuesdays with Morrie” several years ago, and I need to read it again.
My life also has a Tuesday feel, and has throughout my adulthood.
In Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
I worked for the St. Ignace (Mich.) News in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula fresh out of college. As the Cedarville-based employee of the paper, I wrote articles, took photos, sold ads, and delivered the finished product to newsstands.
On Tuesdays, the entire staff would gather at the central office in St. Ignace. That’s where I received most of my mentoring and coaching during the three years I worked there. I learned lessons on those Tuesdays that I carry with me to this day.
The paper was owned and operated by a father-son duo (the son still runs the paper, more than 40 years later). The son, Wes Jr., was the nuts and bolts of the operation. He introduced me to people and showed me the darkroom where I developed prints on Tuesdays.
The father, Wes Sr., was a retired University of Michigan professor whose gift was teaching. At one point, he learned that I was (and still am) a Christian. He was not.
“Very well,” he told me. “Tell me why you believe what you believe.”
That’s one of the best life lessons I’ve ever learned. Ask why. Get to the root of the matter. Defend myself. Have reasons for what I stand for.
Also on Tuesdays, we designed and laid out the paper, using film and razor blades (I cut myself to the point of bleeding more than once). Yes, I’m that old.
Tuesday was my favorite day of the week. I discovered that of all the parts of newspaper work, I enjoyed design and layout the most – despite the blood I shed doing it. After I married and we moved downstate, I turned that into a career.
In Saginaw
In Saginaw, Tuesdays were election days (as they still are). Back when newspapers mattered, the reporters would work all-nighters, especially for a presidential election, and the editors would arrive in the wee hours on Wednesday to edit and lay out twice the number of normal pages – and meet our late-morning deadlines (we were an afternoon paper). We were exhausted but proud of our work.
I was reminded recently that 9/11 took place on a Tuesday. I remember that day vividly, as I imagine you do as well.
We were on deadline in the newsroom when the planes hit the towers in New York City. The news happened so fast, we published six editions that day. Talk about stop the presses. We did, on that Tuesday.
In Ohio
Eventually, I ended up at The Chronicle-Telegram in Elyria, Ohio. I worked four consecutive 10-hour shifts, alternating shifts each month.
The overlap day? Tuesday, of course. I worked every Tuesday.
Eventually, I began volunteering at a food pantry near here, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. When the COVID pandemic hit in 2020, we downshifted to one afternoon a week.
Tuesday.
At the pantry, I was taught the computer system to register individuals and families who came for food. We had to type in every adult and child’s name and birthdate. I was amazed how many people (grandparents, mostly) couldn’t remember birthdates. Children and their families moved in, then moved out with startling regularity. Family sizes changed all the time. People in poverty live differently than the rest of us do.
The church we attend opened a new campus in February 2020. A group of us began praying outside the building, even before the church bought it, in August 2018. On Tuesdays.
Five years later, we still gather for prayer on Tuesday mornings. We met at a local coffee shop for a couple of years, and we recently began rotating among several coffee shops and restaurants in the city in an effort to support them. We pray for the city as well as for those in our church.
I was invited to attend a weekly interdenominational Bible study several years ago. After attending the study for two years, I was asked to be a group leader, which I’m in my fourth year doing.
Until this year, the study met on Tuesday evenings. (The church where we meet began another program on Tuesdays this fall and didn’t have room for us, so now we meet on Thursdays.)
For several years, on Tuesdays I left home about 7:45 a.m. for prayer, went from there to the food pantry, drove home for a quick bite of dinner, then headed to Bible study and got home about 9 p.m.
So much for the leisurely retired life, right?
Especially on Tuesdays. Wednesday is recovery day.
In my heart
Tuesday has a definite feel for me. It’s a busy day, a good day, and has been for a long time. I enjoy Tuesdays. I look forward to them.
It’s not hump day, it’s not a weekend day, it’s just … Tuesday.
Each day is what we make it. Bring on Tuesday.
It’s when I pray in public with a group of like-minded friends. We pray with feeling and passion at times. We aren’t there to make a spectacle, but we aren’t hiding our faith either.
It’s when I engage with Lorain, with the other volunteers in the food pantry, working hard to fill food boxes and serve those who need us. I’m tired by 5 p.m., but it’s a good tired. We accomplish something every week.
I rest on Tuesday evenings now, but for several years on Tuesdays I led a Bible study with a group of eight to 10 men. We engaged with the Bible and with each other. We told stories. We encouraged each other.
We do those things on Thursdays now. Tuesday has been replaced.
It’s still a special day, one I look forward to. As long as I am able.
the liberal conservative 