Ducking Is Better Than Legal Remedy
March 2, 1878 - Not long since a man engaged in selling some patent humbug around this place was taken in charge by some unknown persons one cold night and ducked about a dozen times in the railroad tank, for being on too intimate terms at a den of prostitution near this place. Another man was served the same way on last Wednesday night for the same thing. It beats a legal remedy all hollow.

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City Hires First Scavenger
April 11, 1895-City Ordinance Be it ordained by the City Council .... it is hereby authorized and empowered to appoint said scavenger for a term of two years .... He shall receive as a fee five cents for every private privy per week and ten cents per week for every privy owned or controlled by merchants and used by the public, and twenty-five cents per week for every hotel. This fee shall be collected from the owner or controller of such privy. Nothing in this ordinance shall prevent the owner or controller from cleaning out their own privy. Any one failing or refusing to pay said scavenger for cleaning out their said privy as above named, or clean the same themselves as above directed, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor and upon conviction, fined in any sum not to exceed $2.50. A.W. Meredith, Mayor, W. B. Lybrand, secretary.

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Wills Point In 1897
August 5, 1897 - The following from the New York Mail and Express suits Wills Pointers, as several of our fellow citizens have the craze badly. "The whiskerless craze is still sweeping over the country. It spares neither youth nor age, ignores station and takes no note of previous condition. Whiskers continue to fall on the highways and byways of the nation. Lip and chin and cheek, long hidden in whole or in part by hair of every hue and degree of beauty and ugliness, are laid bare before a mocking or an admiring world, and the owner meets his friends with an expression that can only be interpreted as meaning: What do you think of me now? Am I not ten years younger and several times handsomer? Why don't you ask me what I have done to myself? This shaving mania constitutes one of the most curious of the latter day concession to fashion - if fashion it be. Men who have worn beards for forty years are shedding them, regardless of the beauty or ugliness, the strength or weakness of mouth and chin and jaw."

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Mad Dogs Cause Excitement Here
1903 - More or less excitement has prevailed in Wills Point the past few days on account of dogs supposed to have been afflicted with hydrophobia. A grey hound belonging to Wilbur Brown bit a number of dogs while acting in an unusual manner. The brute was confined for several days that its condition might be noted and was finally killed, the conclusion being that it was made. A dog belonging to Mrs. Freeze, near town, while out of its normal condition bit Joe Pilley on the hand. It was killed later. There is a general tying up and killing of dogs and it will be wise to keep your eyes on the dogs you meet.

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Mrs. McGee Was Early-Day Women Libber
Mrs. Emily Wills McGee, a close relative of William Wills, for whom Wills Point is named, died on the 29th of April, 1936, at the age of 90. "Aunt Emmy" was a rare personality. Women's Lib had not been heard of in her days, but she never felt the restraint that today's female dissenters echo in their clamor for rights equal to that of their male counterparts.

Mrs. J. D. Adams, great-granddaughter of the 90-pound dynamo, recalls advice that Aunt Emmy gave her when she was a little girl. "Honey, there are three important things that every girl should learn ... to ride a horse, shoot a gun and climb a tree."

Mrs. McGee spent most of her 90 years on the 80 acre farm that she and her first husband, James Jones, bought in the Board Community for 50 cents an acre. When she and her husband moved there, rumors of Indians having occupied the area not long before them were heard often. There is still today a large rock on the back side of the farm that is alleged to have been used as a place for pounding grain by the Indians. As a child, Mrs. Adams spent part of her vacation each summer with her great-grandmother and recalls that she often picked up arrows on the hillsides.

A small cemetery located near the farm holds the grave of Mrs. McGee's first husband. Old timers related stories of how the white people would bury their dead in the little cemetery at night to avoid Indian raiding parties.

Mrs. McGee died in the house that she and her husband built of logs made from the timber on the farm. Through the years, rooms were added, and improvements were made, but original log structure was still in the old house when it was finally torn down several years ago.

After Mrs. McGee's death, her son, Green Evans and his wife, Elsie, continued to live on the farm. Mr. Evans died several years ago and Mrs. Evans later died as a resident of Crestwood home.

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