Vision brings New Purpose

In February of 2019, I wrote a blog post about the incredible restoration and repurpose occurring at the old mill located on the banks of the Finley River in Ozark, Missouri. (Click here to reread it, if you’re interested.) It has been exciting to see the huge building, nearly 100 years old, meticulously restored and revamped. It had sat quietly for nearly 30 years since closing its doors (then seemingly permanently) – but it has now come gloriously back to life once again…

Finley River Park

For years, whenever I have had a little extra time while driving north toward Springfield, Missouri, I have indulged myself with a few minutes to exit off highway 65 and head east down Jackson Street so that I could drive through Finley River Park. Any friends or family members who have ridden with me very often know my routine well – it’s a habit I’ve had for many years, and I’ve taken them along with me so many times. It’s such a beautiful spot – almost always alive with people walking the loop, fishing, kayaking or canoeing, reading, or just sitting and lazily enjoying the tranquil, beautiful little oasis in the middle of Ozark.

Finley River Bridge
Finley River Bridge, Ozark, MO

The old Finley River bridge provides a beautiful backdrop and just beyond it sits the historic Ozark Mill. For years, the old mill sat quiet and abandoned after years of service to the town of Ozark and its surrounding area. The original mill was built on this spot almost 200 years ago – even before Ozark was officially a town. Fires through the decades destroyed most of those original structures. Nevertheless, the Ozark Mill was always repaired and rebuilt, operating continuously on this same spot from the 1830’s until the early 1990’s. What a significant and enduring impact this must have been to the community!

Ozark Mill on the Finley River

At the time it closed its doors, it was reported to be the last working water-powered mill operating in Missouri. Shutting down the old mill was definitely the end of an era…and I feel confident many were sad to see it go. So many times, I have said that it would be a shame for the old building to be lost forever – but sensibly it seemed inevitable. The Finley River frequently flooded the old building….and besides – what could it economically be repurposed to provide?

Of course, as with all things, it takes people with vision – people willing to look beyond the norms and think outside the box…and often (as in this case), we all benefit from the efforts of these wonderful innovative thinkers…

The Ozark Mill; August 3, 2021
The Ozark Mill Restaurant
Views from The Ozark Mill Restaurant

…The restored Ozark Mill, a part of Bass Pro owner Johnny Morris’ wonderful new Finley Farms development, officially opened last night to the public as a wonderful restaurant and shopping experience. Once worn and silent, the old building was full of life yesterday evening and there was a feeling of celebration in the air. The weather was perfect for outdoor seating, with a pleasant breeze blowing over the Finley. Soft music, combined with the gentle noises of rushing water from the waterfalls, the beautiful setting, and all of the lovely, well-planned details made for an ambiance of rustic elegance. Our server Audry, and in fact the entire staff, was professional, friendly, eager to assist, and seemed excited to open the new restaurant in the grand old building. The menu selection was creative, the table setting was unique (our table napkins were patterned after old fashioned dish towels – how fun!), and the food was delicious. I ordered the “Ricotta Ravioli”, which was wonderful, and was fortunate to also taste the “Hog & Feed Flatbread” as well as the “Chicken and Dumplins”. All were very unique, beautifully plated, and absolutely delicious. The menu offers three desserts – but at my table we were intrigued by the “Signature Green Tomato Cake”. “Trust us it’s amazing” was bravely captioned on the menu…..and they were right! Bright green in color, it was moist and delicious – tasting somewhat like an old-fashioned spice cake.

Ricotta Ravioli from The Ozark Mill restaurant

Signature Green Tomato Cake from The Ozark Mill restaurant

Ducks, cranes, and other waterfowl unassumingly entertained us while we ate and comfortably enjoyed our time by the water. The entire evening was wonderful from start to finish. In fact, I’m already looking forward to going back! I heard others talking about how fabulous the “Cast Iron Cornbread” appetizer was….and the “Risotto Fritters” sound intriguing! 🙂

Truth be told, I’m not always a huge fan of change. (Note – this comes as absolutely no surprise to anyone who knows me! 🙂 In fact, I can almost hear them chuckling as they read this. ) So often change feels frightening, unsettling….even painful. However, sometimes….change can bring really great things. It may sound silly, but dinner at the old mill last night reminded me that in some cases endings bring new beginnings, that closing one door may open the doors to new experiences – at times even surpassing those of the past.

I’m going to try to remember that.

A Lasting Impact

I have had many heroes and heroines in my life – people who have affected me deeply through words, actions, and examples. We all impact people practically every day – whether positively or negatively. It doesn’t take great notoriety or power to have a lasting effect on others. Sometimes only one brief conversation we have, one quick decision we make, or one action we take can have such a powerful and lasting influence on others…

Last weekend, I drove to central Arkansas to visit family, including my beloved Aunt Bernie. She is an absolute delight to be around, so I always look forward to our talks. A lifelong educator, she loves to discuss teaching, education, and kids. She has wonderful stories of her many years as a classroom teacher, and I love to listen when she shares. Raised with some affluence in Little Rock, she moved to the rural countryside after she married. A city girl, it was an entirely new way of life for her, but she adapted quickly. In her early years as an educator, she taught my father and my uncles in a little two-room country schoolhouse before moving on to a larger, more traditional school (where I later attended).

Aunt Bernie knows the key to being a great educator is building relationships with students – and she has helped to instill the significance of that in me. She does this possibly better than anyone else I know, and I have seen firsthand the lasting impact it has had on her pupils. Retired for decades, she still keeps up with her former students as much as possible. She is saddened when she hears they have faced setbacks and happily celebrates when she hears of their successes. They are, in her words, “her kids” and she is fiercely proud of them all.

When I timidly began school as a first grader, “Mrs. Bernie” was a fifth grade teacher just down the hall. I was so very proud that my aunt was a teacher at the school – and I believed she was the absolute best teacher there. I was always happy to see her during the school day – standing outside her classroom door or supervising students on the playground – partly because she is my aunt – but also because she truly exudes joy and love. She makes others happy with her smile, her laugh, and her genuine appreciation for them, and I felt comforted in my new environment knowing she was there.

When I grew up and decided to become a public school teacher, she was a great encourager. She talked with me about my teaching and my students. She traveled to another state where I lived and proudly toured my classroom. I enjoyed talking with her about my students each year, about the current trends and challenges in education, and the joys and stresses of being a professional educator. She would listen intently and offer good advice. She has always been an enthusiastic listener and supporter. In other words, my Aunt Bernie has definitely been a role model in my life, and I am forever grateful.

While visiting with her last weekend, it was no surprise when the conversation quickly once again turned to education. This time, however, my aunt was so happy to show me an article in central Arkansas’ 501 Life magazine. In the February 2020 edition, there is an interview with a gentleman named Joe Canady, branch president of the NAACP in Conway County, Arkansas. Mr. Canady references people who have had a significant impact on his life including his mother, his grandmother, a lady from his church….and my aunt Bernie. She was so incredibly excited to show it to me.

The entire article can be accessed by clicking the picture. I hope you will read it!

An excerpt is copied here:

Canady was in the fifth grade when his all-black school closed and integrated with Wonderview. While you didn’t have to look far to find racial tension in those days, his new classroom was more awkward than hostile. As the kids gravitated to seats based on their race, one of Canady’s more prominent early role models emerged.

“When the little black kids and the little white kids came together, it was a different experience for us,” he said. “But I remember my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Beeson, mixed her classroom (seating) up. She said we’re one class and we’re all going to get along. From that point on, I held her in high regard as to helping our transition go smoothly.”

That year I mentioned earlier, when I was in first grade was also the year Mr. Canady was in my Aunt Bernie’s 5th grade class. I must admit, my eyes teared and I sat up a little straighter when I read his words…and I was (and always am) so proud to be her niece.

Always a Tiger

I was only eleven years old the very first time I stepped onto the campuses of Green Forest Schools. It was the fall of 1978, and I was beginning my sixth grade year…Being at a new school was scary, but I quickly made dear friends and settled in happily…

Fast forward four decades –

A week and a half ago, I finished my last day as Federal Programs Coordinator and Director of Instruction for the Green Forest School District – leaving that position to pursue another opportunity. I walked through every hall and down every sidewalk that last day with the district. My goodness! There are so many memories on every corner.

I went into the high school on the old junior high side of the building. (That’s the north side – for those of you too young to remember!) Years ago, we used to have a Pepsi machine in the hall outside the principal’s office. I don’t remember the price (maybe a dime?) – but as a student if you hurried between classes you could stop just outside the principal, Mr. Allison’s office and purchase a pop. You would put in your money and a paper cup slid down and filled with slightly cooled soda – which you had to gulp quickly to finish and get to class before the tardy bell rang. I thought it was quite a privilege!

I had to smile as I walked down that old hall. Regardless of who occupies the rooms today, for me, the classrooms at the bottom of the stairs will always be Mrs. James’ (on the left) and Mr. Fancher’s (on the right). Mrs. Taunton’s library was at the end of the hall back then. High school room 120 will always be Mr. Rose’s room in my mind. I spent four years in that room learning algebra and geometry from him. My friend, Jonie Standlee, served as high school counselor for all the years I worked for the district – but to be honest (sorry, Jonie!) she was really hanging out in my high school counselor, Mrs. Sturtz’ office all that time. Teachers, classmates, friends – everywhere I looked, I saw memories of so many special people.

Mrs. Fultz’ Home Ec. building and Mr. James’ GCE building have been moved. One is still used as classroom space – the other simply now serves as a storage building…

I fell asleep in Mr. James’ class one day – but only once! Always a jokester, he allowed my classmates to pile little broken pieces of chalk on my ear until I woke up and the pieces crashed to the floor. Lesson learned – it was the last time I fell asleep in class and I am smiling now at the memory.

Our “Class of 1985” picture is displayed on the wall just outside the teachers’ workroom. Our Senior Monument is on display outside the “Old Gym” where we survived nearly terrifying (but exciting!) dodgeball games in Mrs. Hodges’ P.E. classes.

The building we called the “new gym” when I was in school is now the “Grim Gym” in honor of Coach Fred Grim. I remember when Shane Compton played ball for Coach Grim back in the day. Now Shane is walking in Coach Grim’s footsteps, serving as boys’ basketball coach for the district.

My classmates and I graduated high school in that gym 34 years ago. Ten precious members of my family were sitting in the second row, on the floor, to the right, proudly watching me graduate. If I close my eyes I can see them sitting there. In many ways, that seems like only yesterday…..but I open my eyes knowing that four of those ten loved ones are gone now….

I headed toward elementary down the same sidewalk I walked daily as a sixth grader – our class in a straight line following Mr. George Wheeler, our teacher, to lunch. The old sidewalk isn’t used as much anymore. Back in the day, they would bus us to the cafeteria whenever it rained. Today, there is a nice covered sidewalk for students to use that follows an even shorter path.

Our old sixth grade classroom has now been remodeled into offices for the principal and the nurse, but I remember how it looked back then. Mr. Wheeler had a polished wood and glass display case in the back of the classroom with all sorts of insects and plants and rocks he had collected. He even had his tonsils preserved in a jar – displayed for all of us to see. I remember being both grossed out and fascinated.

I walked across the playground where I once met Festus Hagen (Ken Curtis). That was my first year at Green Forest, and I was so excited that a big celebrity was at our school. I knew this had to be a very cool place if a Gunsmoke actor visited! I mean really!!!

The tetherballs and basketball courts where we played back then are gone now – a building addition stands in their place – but I remember how it looked. I remember it all – both the faces and the places.

I consider it a very great honor to have had the opportunity to go back and work for my alma mater. It was truly a privilege – and one I will forever cherish.

Thank you, Green Forest Schools. Always a Tiger.

Thank you, Mrs. Turner – Teachers Make a Difference

I remember a time a few years ago when a good friend of mine, Bob Leftridge, asked me if I knew the answer to a trivia question – and thankfully I did. He chuckled when I told him the answer – and then said in his pleasant, musical drawl – “Well, that’s pretty good, but I’ll bet you can’t say your alphabet backwards!” I instantly lit up – because, in fact, I CAN say my alphabet backwards…..really….and I had been waiting many years for someone to ask!

I learned to say the alphabet first from my Mother. As a toddler, I had a little desk with all the letters of the alphabet painted around the edges. I would point at them one at a time while she would tell me the names…until I could finally identify and say them by myself. I thought it was great fun! When I turned five years old in April of 1972, kindergarten was not offered in Conway County, Arkansas public schools. I loved to learn, so Mother and Daddy enrolled me in Mrs. Reba Turner’s half-day kindergarten that fall.

I was so excited and nervous the first day of school, but Mrs. Turner quickly put us all at ease. I looked forward to going to school every day. In her kindergarten, we started every morning with a prayer – and then we said the alphabet together. Mrs. Turner had the alphabet strip neatly tacked on the wall above the chalkboard. She would lead us by walking along and touching one letter at a time with a pointer. When she got to Z, she would slowly move back up the list until we returned to the letter A. Therefore, to this day I know my alphabet forwards and backwards.

Mrs. Turner’s kindergarten was held in her home. I suspect our little school was originally a carport – but it now served beautifully as our classroom. She had a lovely space for us to learn – and a fun playground out back. She was strict but kind, always well-prepared, and conscientiously dedicated to our success. I can remember one day when one of my classmates showed us how much fun it could be to break crayons using only one hand. We watched his demonstration carefully, then excitedly dug into Mrs. Turner’s big bucket of crayons and began practicing our new skill. When Mrs. Turner saw what we were doing, she had a talk with our little group about the importance of respecting others’ property, and how we should take care of things rather than ruin them. I still remember that lesson to this day. (I truly think we broke every crayon in the bucket.)

Of all my days at Mrs. Turner’s kindergarten, one in particular has always stood out in my mind. Mother dropped me off as usual that morning and I went into our little classroom. The lights were off, and there was no one to be seen. I went up and knocked on the door that led into Mrs. Turner’s home. She came to the door, and I could tell she was a little surprised to see me. She quickly apologized for not being in our classroom to greet me and started turning on lights. She explained that every single one of my classmates would be absent that day because it was “Orientation Day” for upcoming first graders at Morrilton Elementary. Because I lived out in the country, I would attend a different school that fall and was not involved in the special day. In other words, Mrs. Turner obviously thought she had a day off – until I showed up. As it turned out – it was a wonderful morning…because I had Mrs. Turner all to myself. I sat in her lap while she read to me. We colored a picture together. We sang songs, and I got to help her straighten up our classroom. I loved every single minute! When Mother came to pick me up at lunchtime and found out that I had been the only one there all morning, she was embarrassed and apologetic. Mrs. Turner quickly and calmly assured her that it was fine – there was no reason to apologize. Years later, I would have to agree – because it provided me with a pleasant memory I cherish to this day.

Mrs. Turner’s little private kindergarten was a wonderful way to begin my many years of schooling. She started me off well on my educational path, and I am forever grateful. I can honestly and wholeheartedly say I owe her a lot.

Before she began her home kindergarten, Mrs. Turner taught all grades (1-8) together in little one-room schools. In fact, she taught my mother and my aunt in a small community known as Lords Schoolhouse. Even though Mrs. Turner grew up only about 10 miles or so from that little neighborhood, she boarded with my grandparents while she taught school there. In rural Arkansas in those days, it was the school parents’ responsibility to house the teacher. Room and board were part of the compensation teachers received. Reba Turner moved in with my grandparents and stayed until the end of the school term. Just little girls, my Mother and Aunt Helen would walk with her to school each day. They lived almost a mile from the school, so when the weather was cold or rainy the walk was a challenge. My Pap-pa bought an older used car for Mrs. Turner to drive to school. Even though it was not a great car, and from what I have heard it was often hard to start – it was still appreciated. One morning, my grandparents left home early, leaving Mrs. Turner at home with their two little girls. When it came time to leave for school, the stubborn old car once again wouldn’t start. Mrs. Turner had an idea. She and her two little students pushed the car to the edge of the drive just before it sloped sharply down to the highway. She pumped the gas pedal a few times to get it primed, then Mother and Aunt Helen worked together to give it a push and started it rolling down the incline to the road. Using that momentum, Mrs. Turner got the car started and carefully braked so that her two waiting students could catch up, get in the car, and head to school. They worked together to solve the problem – and it makes me smile to picture it in my mind.

Through the years, I have often thought about what Mrs. Turner (and others) modeled for me regarding education. When I started out as an educator, I patterned my teaching after those I had learned from myself. From their examples, I firmly believe one of the most important things a teacher can do for their students (of any age) is work to build relationships from day one. Getting to know students and letting them know you care is a critical element to their academic success. Students, just like everyone else, need to connect with someone. When they view their teacher(s) as their partner(s) in learning, their attitudes, their self-esteem, and their chances for success improve drastically. I tried to always remember that during my years spent teaching in the classroom, because it’s a great practice. I know. I learned it in kindergarten.

Mrs. Reba Turner passed away this month at the age of 86. According to her obituary, her remarkable teaching career spanned 58 years. During that time she taught approximately 2200 students.

Thank you, Mrs. Turner. You made a difference in our lives. We, your students, are forever grateful.