centennial memories
Editorial By Susan O'Connor, Illustration by Brittney Guest

Celebrations of milestones are very important. Marking these moments gives credence to the fortitude of living this life with its challenging mixture of successes and hardships. We honor rites of passage, anniversaries and birthdays, all clear indicators of the passage of time.

Working on this month’s issue commemorating Jonesboro’s 150th year has been rewarding, and I’ve particularly enjoyed having the chance to interview individuals with a knowledge of the city’s history. Tim McCall’s love of history and his dedication to serving his native Jonesboro are inspiring, as well as Mayor Harold Perrin’s enthusiasm for his work as leading executive of this great city.
As I mark two years at Jonesboro Occasions, I feel fortunate to have had the privilege of getting to know many of Jonesboro’s leaders and doers, as well as unsung heroes. To say that I’m impressed with the caliber of people here is an understatement. Jonesboro is truly a city with a heart.

My work on this issue has also brought to mind some long forgotten childhood memories surrounding the centennial celebration of Walnut Ridge.

I am surely a daughter of Lawrence County. My great, great grandfather, W.M. Ponder, a colonel in the Confederacy, founded the town of Walnut Ridge. After the war, he actually stepped off a boat on the banks of the Black River and crossed paths with a friend who offered him a parcel of land in what is now Walnut Ridge. My grandfather, the late Harry L. Ponder, recounted his father spinning the story that Col. Ponder cleared the land bare-chested — in order to salvage his one good shirt — with the help of a lone mule. With the proverbial sweat off his brow he made a living and bought more land over time in the area.
When Walnut Ridge held its centennial celebration, I was a small girl of about five, but my recollection is quite vivid. I remember being perplexed as to why the men in town suddenly seemed to sprout full beards. I had never seen my father with facial hair, and I remember giggling as he kissed my cheek. And my mother and the other women in my life wore costumes of period clothing. It was as if the entire town was involved in a stage production, with the centennial being opening night. The excitement among the townspeople was palpable.

As a great-great granddaughter, I was given one line in a skit about the town’s founding. I wore a little dress and bonnet as I stepped onto the stage, which in hindsight was enormous and scary with seemingly thousands of people watching. In reality, everything was surely smallish and quaint in a good, small-town way.

What was important, though, was the pride I felt at being a descendant of the city’s founder, a true American pioneer; a pull-yourself-up-by-your bootstraps patriot. His son and three grandsons were community minded, politically active attorneys — all truly upstanding legacies.

I know Jonesboro’s sesquicentennial year will foster the same genre of pride in city and heritage, and rightly so. Jonesboro is a special place to be.