The green slips come on Wednesdays.

The younger workers usually receive the layoff notices first.

Because they have been coming for six months now in this Toledo suburb that calls itself "the original glass city of the world," Kenny Boris, 23, with only three years at Libbey-Owens-Ford (LOF) Co. here, was not too surprised when he received his.

"I knew I didn't have enough time in the plant," said Boris, who is married and has two children. "I knew it wouldn't be too long before they got around to me, but . . ."

Boris and his wife, Marsha, still had plans to move out of their apartment into a home of their own. "We also had our way of living," Boris said.

That way was simple, and traditional, Marsha stayed home with Kenny, 2, and Jason, 5. The daddy went to work and was paid $360 a week.

Now, Boris gets by on a weekly unemployment compensation check of $189. Marsha has gone to work as a dietitian at Mercy Hospital in Toledo to help out. Boris says he really does not like the idea that his wife "has to go to work."

His mother, Amelia, and father, Steve, live here. They are retired, and they help out with the kids while Boris drives his pickup truck in search of "a job with a future."

The search is always overshadowed by the possibility that LOF will call him back to the good job he had. Other local employers know that. And so Boris, regarded by his peers as "a guy with lots of smarts who catches on fast," goes without a job.

Boris is too proud to think of himself as a victim. Indeed, he would much prefer to tell prying visitors, "Hey, things ain't so bad."

But he is a victim. He and many thousands of others in this major automotive-supply region have been knocked off by that abstraction economists call a recession.

Here, that translates into a major drop in the demand for glass, the mainstay of Rossford's economy since 1898.

This town was built around the company that is now LOF -- the nation's largest producer of automotive glass and plastics, and a major supplier of glass and plastic products to the construction industry.

National car sales and housing starts have fallen sharply in recent months and so have LOF's earnings -- down to $6.1 million for the first quarter of 1980 from $21.7 million earned during the same period last year.

That decline has touched nearly everyone, in some way, in this town of 6,500. It has also done something else. For the first time in decades, according to businessmen and elected officials here, many Rossford residents are afraid.

"The younger people are getting hit with the layoffs, but it's the older people with savings who seem more nervous," said Vincent H. Langevin, director of the Rossford Banking Center.

"I had an older lady with $18,000 in the bank who wanted to take her money out. She said she heard the banks were in trouble.

"I told her that we're a sound bank and that even if we were in trouble, her savings would be insured. She had me type that up in her bank book and sign it," Langevin said.

Rossford, of course, has seen recessions before. But Langevin and Rossford Mayor Louis Bauer said their townspeople are more uneasy this time because of the rising number of Snow Belt companies that are closing up and moving out.

"The people look around them and see tire companies closing in Akron, steel companies closing in Youngstown, and car plants shutting in Detroit," said Bauer who, at 28, is in his second four-year term as mayor.

"These closings are frightening. It reminds a lot of people of the 1930s. People wonder if Rossford is going to be next," said the mayor, whose father, grandfather, brothers and uncles collectively have worked more than 200 years for LOF.

Periodic shutdown to reduce inventories at LOF's Rossford plant and its East Toledo facility -- about 10 minutes away -- have contributed to local fears of corporate abandonment. The anxiety has been heightened by the company's recent construction of large-capacity glass-production plants in the largely nonunion Sun Belt states of North Carolina and Texas.

Many people here, like the mostly male, hard-drinking crowd found in Holefka's cafe on Saturday nights, believe the current downturn -- as one of them put it -- "is just the excuse LOF needs to move its whole . . . operation down south."

LOF President Don T. McKone says he understands those feelings, but he calls them unfair.

"Fear is bound to make the people lash out and say things like that. But we're not going to abandon Rossford," said McKone, sitting in his well-pointed, 12th floor office in nearby downtown Toledo.

"We also have no intention of letting LOF go out of the automotive or housing industries," he said of the firm that has grown into a diversified multinational corporation since its birth in the 1930 merger of Libbey-Owens Sheet Glass Co. with the old Edward Ford Plate Glass Co. of Rossford.

LOF is the Rossford-Toledo area's second largest employer, providing about 5,234 jobs. An estimated 4,500 of its employees once belonged to the Rossford-based Local 9 of the United Glass and Ceramic Workers of North America (NFL-CIO).

But, nowadays, Local 9 President Clyde Alexander says he does not know exactly how many members his union has.

"I think we've lost about 800 people. But with the way these layoffs are coming, it's hard to tell. Let's just say we've got problems and that I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel," Alexander said.

The layoffs are coming two ways: "short-term," when LOF shuts its plants to let product stockpiles be drawn down; and "indefinite," when, as one supervisor put it, "the work isn't here for the men to do because nobody's buying."

All told, LOF has laid off 656 workers so far in the Rossford-Toledo area -- about one-sixth of the labor force. Its three area plans, devoted almost entirely to auto glass, still have 3,341 people working.

There have been similar layoffs at LOF auto glass plants elsewhere. For example, Lathrop, Calif., has laid off 127, and Ottawa, Ill., 375 workers, over a fifth of the former labor force at these two plants. "In the deteriorating auto situation, more layoffs are possible," an executive said.

Similar layoffs are occurring at other national automotive suppliers in this area. For example, Champion Spark Plug Co. in Toledo is sidelining 105 of its current 2,200 employes (down from 2,500 in 1979) until inventories are reduced.

In nearby Perrysburg, Ohio, an automotive parts plant operated by financially troubled Chrysler Corp. has placed several hundred workers on indefinite layoff. Some of them have been without work since January.

Local officials like Rossford's Mayor Bauer moan over the escalating unemployment rate -- 9 percent for the six-county area including Rossford and Toledo -- and worry about the damage to their fragile municipal budgets.

"We lose $15,000 in payroll taxes and other revenue each time LOF shuts down for a week," said Bauer, whose city has an annual operating budget of $2 million.

But, as did other local leaders, Bauer said he is "more concerned about the personal damage taking place."

That damage appears minimal to the casual observer. The Holiday Inn in Perrysburg still does a lively weekend cocktail and disco business, and expensive restaurants like Frank Unkle's -- "Toledo's best" -- still cater to capacity crowds.

Here in tightly knit Rossford, Sundays are still devoted to church and family. The Rev. Father Albin Radecki, pastor of St. Mary's Magdalene Catholic Church, says the Sunday contributions "are about like normal."

Dale Myers, a Rossford pharmacist, sees a "general belt-tightening" taking place. "They're buying the soap and leaving the bubble bath."

Mayor Bauer talks about "a blanket of government security."

"Right now, in a lot of cases, we're just kidding ourselves," he said. "On the surface, things don't look all that bad. But that's only because the unemployment benefits haven't run out. . . ."