A most welcoming town

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Before going to Fort Smith, Ark., last week to speak at a fund-raiser for the local library, I received a note from one of the town's residents, apologizing for the fact that she couldn't be on hand to greet me personally.In fact, I received several such notes. It seemed everyone who couldn't be present for my visit felt somehow inhospitable -- as if, instead of bunking at the Marriott, I was planning to sleep on their hide-a-bed.One woman wrote that while she couldn't be there herself, she had great faith in her fellow citizens, who would shower me, she said, with a welcome very much like the one awaiting me someday at the Pearly Gates.What's not to like in that? I was charmed even before I saw the Arkansas River winding past the city like a silver ribbon.Actually, it was not my first trip to Fort Smith. Some years ago, driving across the country, I decided to stop by the Times Record and thank them for carrying my column. When I phoned for directions, I was transferred to someone in the circulation department, who was kind enough to oblige.Then he added, "When you get here, back your big rig up to the dock and we'll unload it."That was my only Arkansas story; but after three days of being treated like royalty and feeling like family, I now have an entire collection.I've been to some great towns and met a lot of good people, but I have never been anyplace where folks seem to take more pride in their community.The people of Fort Smith (those I talked to, and I talked to plenty) are unabashedly proud of their history as a gateway between the Old South and the Old West. They love to point out that their welcome center was once a brothel, and that they're soon to host the site of the U.S. Marshals Museum.They're particularly proud of their library and the support it receives from the community, especially in times when money is tight and libraries are cutting services or closing doors.But by far the proudest citizen of Fort Smith is its mayor, the honorable, Jack-Russell-terrier-enthusiastic Ray Baker. If Fort Smith had an NBA franchise, Ray Baker would be its mascot, doing handstands and tossing rose petals at visiting teams.That's what he did for me -- the rose petals, not the handstands, though he came close to doing those, too.He also gave me a key to the city, made me an honorary citizen and issued me a pardon from hanging in case, God forbid, I ever need one.Finally, he did something I've never seen a mayor do, which apparently he does fairly often: He led the citizens of Fort Smith -- those who'd gathered to hear me speak -- in a rousing cheer."Life is worth living!" he shouted, pumping his fist, and the crowd quickly replied, "in Fort Smith, Arkansas!"Then he doused me with rose petals, gave me a hug and ran off to his next event. It was no easy act to follow, but I tried.I thought of that cheer the next day at the airport when I learned my flight had been canceled due to mechanical difficulties and I'd have to stay in Fort Smith another night.So I went back to the hotel, unloaded my big rig and headed over to Landry's to listen to live music and eat a pile of fried oysters and bread pudding.Life is worth living anyplace at all -- but especially in a place of uncommon grace and hospitality, where neighbors are friends, libraries are valued and strangers are made to feel they have reached the Pearly Gates.I hope to go back again soon.(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson NV 89077, or at www.sharonrandall.com.)