By Tom Kelly
Editor and Publisher

Feeling the heat wave of enthusiasm coming out of the Rural Economic Development Conference at Natchitoches last month, and the cascading ripples of anticipation from just about every small town in the Piney Woods, I felt a flashback of similar off-in-all-directions intentions from an earlier lifetime.

It was in Winnfield, Louisiana, sometimes in the middle Fifties . . . I, along with a group of really ambitious young dudes with energy to burn were in the process of organizing a chapter of what used to be called the Junior Chamber of Commerce, or Jaycees, to achieve - who knows what? But we meant to do something. There were the likes of J.W. Kennedy, Buddy Stewart, John Read, J.D. Rudd, Lawrence Paul, James Womack, and some others whose names have momentarily slipped out of my long-term memory bank. Membership in the Jaycees was limited to men between 21 and 36, and we were at least that. (Female membership, and lowering of the age to 18, came later. I don't know if the Jaycees continues as a national organization, but it was big, at least for us, in those times of awakening civic consciousness.)

Our weekly meetings, held at night after our career jobs were over for the day, were a frenzy of talking over and past each other to set goals for the organization which was sure to bring growth to our community and make each of us famous. These were not "eating meetings"; we were serious, and continued one-on-one talks in small huddles into the late evenings. One consensus was, We Need a Project. Something that will be beneficial, help the community, get us some notice, be worthwhile. But what?

As a middle-twenties newspaper reporter, having ricocheted around three or four jobs and landed back in Winnfield commuting for the final leg of a degree at old Northwestern in Natchitoches, I had been a member for a few years of a couple of long-established national civic clubs, and had sat in as an observer on countless others as Community Projects of various kinds were planned and executed. After a lot of excited talking and arm-waving, it devolved on me to prepare a list of possible Projects for the anxious-to-break-out-and-do-something Winn Parish Jaycees.

Over several days, I jotted down, in no particular order of preference, a list of about 20 possibilities, any one of which could challenge the ongoing civic commitment of the fledgling club, and provide some flourish of continuing utilitarian pride for the community. I had an item of two that I considered "favorites," but was prepared for the club to make its choice and help to work on whatever the group opted for.

Came the next meeting night, I had copies of The List, and handed them around. It was quiet momentarily as each one absorbed the possibilities. There was a low buzz of conversation, and then the Heat Wave . . . "Yeah! Yeah! Let's do it!" someone said. "Yeah! I make the motion!" someone else said.

Incredulous, I asked, "Which one?"

"All of it!"

Well, of course, you know what happened, don't you? We tackled one or two things; careers continued; one by one, guys got transferred, found other interests, the town . . . is still there, mostly.

Not many days ago, I bumped into Richard Broomfield, who runs the equipment store next door to The Piney Woods Journal, as we were picking up mail at the Post Office across the street. I don't remember what else we were talking about, but it led Richard to this remark: "When people come back to Dodson, they don't retire. They work 'til they die."

All in all, that's OK by me. And if you want ideas for some great projects . . . just ask me. I think I still have a copy of that List in an old shirt pocket around here somewhere.

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