RIVERCITY JOURNAL: MYSTERY POWDER, FOUND IN WOODS, GLOWS BRIGHT AS DAY

I know this is true, because it was in my favorite hometown newspaper, which has never steered me wrong yet.

In the Ozark hills west of here where I grew up, almost anything can happen. And it usually does.

I possess a good-sized storehouse of unusual things that have happened in those hills. I call them my memories.

This granary is further stocked, from time to time, by tidbits from my mother, who has connections at the beauty shop in my favorite hometown.

And then their is my favorite hometown newspaper, a weekly cornucopia of events large and small.

My favorite hometown newspaper, as I've told you before, is filled with the comings and goings -- literally -- of the folks who live in that area.

They come into the world.

They go to school.

They come home from college or the Army.

They go to work.

They come through the perils of parenthood and the golden years.

They go to the cemetery.

And the weekly newspaper takes note of every bit of it.

In addition, the weekly newspaper is filled with tidbits from correspondents strategically located all over the newspaper's coverage area. There is very little that happens -- and most of it is truly little in the scheme of the cosmos, but big in the lives of hundreds of readers -- that those faithful and trustworthy correspondents don't know. And write. Warts and all.

Visiting, eating, going to church, remembering the sick and honoring the dead. Those are the staples of a good weekly newspaper correspondent.

Occasionally, however, the weekly newspaper has a Really Big Story. A few years back, my favorite hometown became the center of international attention when some UFOs started hovering over the old city dump up on the hill overlooking the town. It's still up in the air why aliens were so interested in more than a hundred years' worth of garbage. It's not like you can ask some creature from outer space for an explanation.

This week's edition of my favorite hometown newspaper arrived in the mail yesterday. There is a familiar look to the paper each week. You know about comfort food? Those wonderful dishes from your mother's kitchen or the church dinner or the family reunion, usually fried or containing loads of sugar or butter or both? I consider my hometown weekly to be a comfort newspaper.

But this week there was a Really Big Story on the front page. It involves possible danger and a good dose of mystery. It takes place in the woods, which is where all the best stuff happens in the Ozarks.

I remember when I was growing up on Kelo Valley that I spent a lot of time in the woods that covered the hills. I used to go deep into the timber and stop, looking at a patch of ground where my next footstep might fall, and wonder if my foot would be the first human foot to ever press down on that patch of moist earth and rotting leaves.

I know. I was a weird kid.

This week's Really Big Story was about some barrels of an unidentified powder that glows after being exposed to air. Listen to this, straight from the front page: "Authorities report that they have never seen anything quite like the material that was discovered. When the powder was exposed to light it emitted a glow comparable to that of a headlight. The material glowed so bright it lit up the woods like daylight for almost 100 feet."

Folks, this isn't from last night's "X-Files" rerun. This is from my hometown newspaper.

Isn't it great?

Some hunters and some youngsters, we're told, had known about the mystery barrels for several weeks, but authorities weren't informed until recently. In the meantime, four of the barrels have disappeared. One youngster turned in some of the glowing powder he had taken from the woods during a visit some time ago.

So far, the glowing mystery powder hasn't claimed any lives or disfigured anyone or caused anyone's ears to fall off or anything like that.

But it's a wonder, in this day and age, that official state bureaucrats haven't been able to even come close to a guess about what the powder is or where it came from.

The owner of the property where the barrels were found says he has no idea how the powder that glows as bright as a headlight got there.

This is a great story. I think my hometown newspaper ought to start speculating right away about how this could be some stockpile left by extraterrestrials who plan to come back, as soon as all the hubbub dies down, and use the glowing powder for ... .

Well, no need to give away the ending yet.

My favorite hometown weekly will be out again next Thursday.

I'll let you know what happens.

In the meantime, you might want to stay out of the woods. Just to be on the safe side.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.