Arkansas Ties ... A Little Bit of This, a Little Bit of That, and a Whole Lot of Arkansas

Fountain Square Memphis, Shelby County, Tennessee       Fountain by Anderson Venn & Co. Marble & Granite Monuments Statuary & Co.  Fountain donated to the city by James Elder, with assistance from many people.   Electric illumination in memory of Thomas A. Edison.  Sponsored by the Good Earth Garden Club, Mrs. P. Avila McPhillips, President, May 1949.   Restoration & illumination of this fountain by Memphis Light, Gas & Water Division, City of Memphis, 1949.         Hattie Manely August 2, 1885: A riot broke out after police arrest 16-year-old Hattie Manely of Xenia, Ohio.  Manely was an African-American who didn't realize she was committing a crime when she sat in a chair in Court Square vacated by a white man.     James H. Malone October 31, 1851 - June 29, 1929   The 35th Mayor of Memphis, 1906 - 1910, Author of "The Chickasaw Nation".  He shared a legal office on the 11th floor of the Exchange Building, overlooking Court Square.  With his younger brother Walter Malone, Judge of the Second Circuit Court of Shelby County, Walter was a writer and author of the famous poem "Opportunity."   Mayor Malone, said "My greatest regret in leaving this office is the pleasure I had in watching the pigeons and squirrels in this square.  I am glad I have made it possible for them to be fed daily."   This memorial was placed by Alba R. Malone - 1991     In Memory of Walter Malone Erected MCMXIX   Opportunity They do me wrong who say I come no more Which once I knock and fail to find you in, For every day I stand without your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win.   Wail not for precious chances passed away, Weep not for golden ages on the wane, Each night I burn the records of the day At sunrise every soul is born again!   Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and and deaf and dumb; My judgment seals the dead past with its dead, But never binds a moment yet to come.   Though deep in mire wring not your hands and weep, I lend my arm to all who say I can't No shame-face outcast ever sank so deep, But yet might rise and be again a man.   Dost thou behold they lost youth all aghast? Dost reel from righteous retributions blow? Then turn from plotted archives of the past And find the futures pages white as snow.   Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from they spell; Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven; Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell, Each night, a star to guide they feet to heaven. - John Polacher - Bronze Iron@ LI City, New York