Dear Editor,

Tick tock, y’all, time just keeps on happening. I count the hours until I’m one year older, about a dozen times a day. So today is the day, an anniversary I share with a few notables such as Russel B. of Campbell’s Bay, Steve Winwood of Traffic, Eric Burdon of the Animals, and Salvador Dali, of surrealism fame. But the one birthday mate I’m spotlighting today is Robert Judd. I never met him, but he was in some ways the grandfather of the present day Pontiac Historical Society. 

Hailing from west of Greermount, he moved his family into Shawville in order to advance their education. He had that kind of confidence in their innate brain power. His daughter Margaret (Bretzlaff) and her daughter Jane (Kiernan) were key figures in the Shawville Clarendon Thorne Historical Record project, which led directly to the purchase and repurposing of the PPJ Railway station into the Pontiac Museum. 

Bob Judd was a raconteur of great note, and some of his stories, as recorded by the Project, are on file at the Pontiac Archives. He quoted his uncle (I think his last name was Angus), who wrote humorous poems of the foibles of society and denominational squabbles among the plethora of churches in the Clarendon and Thorne region. This tattered lineage of satire, pointing out the irony of groups of Christians arguing over which one was the most righteous, serves as an inspiration today, to those of us who enjoy backseat driving social norms. 

When those in seats of influence become too swell-headed, we must be reminded that it’s a social heritage, passed from one generation to another, not something we made up ourselves because we’re so clever now. Step by step, minute by minute, day by day, time keeps on ticking, whether we acknowledge it or not. I’m one day older than yesterday, but the oldometer ticks off another year. Seventy-seven trips around the sun by now. 

Robert Wills, Shawville and Thorne