The South Carolina town where I grew up has grown over the years, and these days there are many, many things to do.
When I was a kid, it was the zoo, mini golf and little league. Maybe a bike trip to 7-11 at the end of delivering newspapers. Saturday morning story time or a film at the library.
Most people knew the name of the US president. Some knew the name of the mayor. The local news anchors. Definitely the college football stars. Beyond that, maybe a few singers or wrestlers.
Everyone knew the big celebrity in town: Joy the Elephant.
Though I went to the local zoo many times, and am pretty sure there were the standard-issue monkies, birds and snakes, I only remember Joy. She was the same age as me. She had the biggest piece of zoo real estate, front and center.
The only other thing I remember is the park next door that had an old railway box car to play in (probably a bad idea).
I don’t know if the park is there anymore or if anyone bothers to go to the zoo.
This weekend, Joy was moving to Colorado, where at the ripe old age of 44, she would get better geriatric care. At a stop along the way, when they went for their periodic check on her, she had died.
As an almost-44 year old who moved away long ago, I’m glad to have known her. Now you do too.
RIP Joy the Elephant.