4 minute read
History Happens
BY VELVET HALL COOL Board President of the Texarkana Museums System istory happens to find its way into our lives in manners in which we might tend to overlook, very much like some of the techniques we are taught in math class as a child. When will I need fractions? When will calculating percentages ever be important? Many of us will struggle to memorize the years of the World Wars, the names of those who signed the Declaration of Independence. As children, we may find ourselves practicing rote memorization and then shuffling that information from our brains to make room for learning that we more enjoy. We may simply throw our backpack on our bed as we rush home from school to play with our friends – a game of catch or playing dolls. We may find a love in theater or architecture that lasts from junior high to our adult careers – or we may toss that spark aside for something more lucrative, secure. We may immerse ourselves in a corner of our room reading stories about families like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Huckleberry Finn, or Little Women.
We may never realize that history complements the things we love in our lives.
As someone who has volunteered thousands of hours over the last decade preserving history and attempting to cultivate in others an appreciation for history, I am one for whom history must make an impact on my heart in order for me to fully appreciate the gifts that history gives – I must find that for which I am thankful and blessed. A list of names and dates would never spark that emotion within me.
Show me the dollhouse handcrafted for a grandchild and the newspaper clipping describing his labor of love crafted on a tiny scale with handmade furniture, working lights, wallpapered rooms, and the tiniest of accessories. Many of these gifts were made for tiny hands that would spend hours playing and pretending ... hours, perhaps, not spent appreciating her grandfather’s work to its fullest. As someone who in years gone by played with mass produced Barbie dollhouses and someone who now sips coffee as her own grandchildren immerse themselves in worlds of dollhouses and imagination, history begins to creep into my heart.
The old gold-colored light bulbs that once graced the Perot marquee sign and enticed people through the doors makes me ponder history.
What did Orson Welles think of our town as he kicked off the 5th
War Loan Drive in the 1940s?
What do current citizens think of a theater that hosted such notable characters as Orson Welles and Mae West? Do we appreciate all those that have crossed our state line, rolled into town on our trains at the once magnificent Union Station? Do we tilt our heads back and marvel at
HJames T. Fuqua (as a child), brother of Howard and son of Joe Fuqua, circa 1900.
the architecture of such a vessel of talent and entertainment? As the recipient of such wonderful moments in time, what stories can our community pass along? Show me the rocking chair donated by Selden McMillin and the stories he enthusiastically shares of his grandmother, Mrs. Fuqua. I see the moments of reminiscing and Mr. Joe Fuqua, Sr., his wife, and their children – Joe, Jr.; Collins (baby); and Mildred Fuqua Little (as a child), circa 1900. the impact of his grandmother in his life flash across his eyes and flavor his stories, and I find myself wanting to know more. Where was their home? How did they occupy their days? Why These dollhouse beds are a part of the Beverly McDowell donation provided by the Texarkana Museums System. was the soft, gentle sway of a rocking chair so comforting to her at the end of long day when the children were put to bed and the house was quiet? What other family histories can come from a simple, inanimate object? I am thankful that, if allowed, history can answer many of those questions. I may have no deep love of the memorization and tedium of what basic history education often provides. But I am beyond thankful and blessed for the foundation it provides for those who value history and strive to preserve history – those who etch answers into the history books of our lives.
Orson Welles kicked off the 5th War Loan Drive in Texarkana on June 12, 1944.
Born and raised in Texarkana, Velvet Hall Cool has strong ties to both Texas and Arkansas but will always consider herself a Class of ‘87 Razorback. She loves to share stories of her nine wonderful grandchildren. When it comes to listening, you can always perk up her ears with stories that speak to personal history and the lessons we learn during our lifelong journey.
