It is time for that hard farewell as I return to dust and remain only as a memory on the hill. I have long blessed this city from my place on the hilltop at the gateway of the town. It is time now to step aside and welcome progress.
When I first came to the hill in Clinton, Clinton was a tiny place. Through my years as sentinel, I have watched as homes were built around me. I have seen Mississippi College grow and expand right up to my doorstep. The town has swelled with people and houses and traffic. All the while, I have watched with love in my heart as person after person turned the corner and looked up at me with pride.
My family is now gone. Once I was filled with love and laughter, sometimes tears, as my family lived and thrived within my walls. Their grandchildren played all around me and in the woods behind the house. It was a magical place for them. It was a magical home for so long.
Everyone admired me on the hill as they passed by College Street and Madison. As my family grew and departed, my grounds were kept meticulously throughout time. However, my paint began to crack and fade. I was struggling to hold the hill. The caring that had been vital to my life was somehow far away. I lost my hold on beauty. Still charming some, there were efforts to save me from my fate. Alas, progress won out and demolition is scheduled.
Do not mourn for me. Do not be angry that progress has taken me away from you. Clinton is thriving and my spot will soon be filled with another guardian of the city. That guardian will look out from this hill even as I have and watch the changes in the life of the city. Time may come when the guard changes again. Change is the challenge. Change sometimes means you can never go back. But, change means you can go forward. The future is bright for all. Farewell, dear city.
Written by BR Arbuthnot Walker
See our new issue on Tuesday, September 15, 2020, for a new update on the status of the house.