Traci Williams

Mom, Wife, Acxiom, Hog Fan, University of Arkansas Alumni, University of Central Arkansas Alumni

[Steve Clemans @Steve09812]

It is with profound sorrow that we bid farewell to Jeanne Gibson, our beloved Rosie the Riveter, has passed away today, July 29, 2026, at the remarkable age of 100. With her passing, we don't simply mourn the loss of a beloved friend, we honor the life of an American hero whose courage, dedication, and unwavering spirit helped shape history, and will continue to inspire generations to come.📷📷
At just 18 years old, Jeanne left her home in Minnesota in the summer of 1944 and answered her nation's call, becoming a welder at Todd Pacific Shipyards in Seattle. With determination and grit, she helped build destroyers that strengthened the Allied war effort during World War II. She later continued her service with the Army Transportation Corps in Juneau, Alaska, embodying the resilience and patriotism of the Greatest Generation.
Yet Jeanne's legacy extended far beyond the war. She earned her Ph.D., dedicated three decades to teaching, earned her private pilot license, and spent the rest of her life proving that courage, determination, and purpose know no age.
In 2024, Jeanne and her fellow Rosies were collectively awarded the Congressional Gold Medal, one of our nation's highest civilian honors, recognizing the extraordinary women whose sacrifices and determination helped secure victory during World War II.
To all of us at Pacific Historic Parks, Jeanne was far more than a Rosie, she was family. She traveled to Hawaiʻi time and again to share her remarkable story with visitors, inspire local students, and ensure that the sacrifices of the Home Front would never be forgotten. Her radiant smile, generous heart, and boundless enthusiasm touched every life she encountered.
She had a special gift for encouraging young girls, reminding them that no dream was too big and no obstacle too great. Through her words and her example, she inspired generations to believe in themselves and pursue lives of courage, service, and purpose.
Jeanne remained a tireless advocate for preserving the legacy of the Rosies, volunteering at Rosie the Riveter WWII Home Front National Historical Park on "Rosie Fridays" and ensuring the stories of the women who helped win the war would continue to inspire future generations.
In one of life's poignant moments, just days before her passing, Jeanne was celebrated with a Wall of Honor banner at the park she loved so dearly and recognized during a San Jose Earthquakes halftime ceremony honoring Bay Area heroes. It was a fitting tribute to a woman whose life was defined by selfless service, quiet strength, and extraordinary grace.
Though Jeanne has taken her final flight, her legacy will never fade. It lives on in every story she shared, every young person she inspired, every life she touched, and in the enduring example of courage she leaves behind.
Our hearts are with Jeanne's family, her fellow Rosies, and all who were blessed to know and love her.
Rest in peace, Jeanne Gibson.
Thank you for answering the call when your country needed you most. Thank you for showing generations what courage looks like. We will remember you always

[Traci Williams @TraciSmith15]

@MattWalshBlog Love your posts and opinions… but differ on this one. I think it’s a fun music lineup! Takes me back!

[Arkansas Alumni Association @arkansasalumni]

Celebrate your graduation at Donald W. Reynolds Razorback Stadium 🎓

Razorback Athletics is opening the stadium for grad photos on May 8–9 from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.

You’re also welcome to take photos at Razorback Stadium and the Alumni Patio anytime.

[Arkansas Alumni Association @arkansasalumni]

Congrats, Class of 2026.

This weekend, you take your place among University of Arkansas graduates.

Welcome to the Razorback alumni network.

The Arkansas Alumni Association and University Advancement are proud to celebrate alongside our alumni community.

[TaraBull @TaraBull]

Just a reminder of how ridiculous the argument against voter id is

[Ron DeSantis @RonDeSantis]

Mike — I am happy to oblige and am impressed with IU’s turnaround (thanks in part to a Miami kid at QB).

But I am all-in for The U.

If Indiana wins, I’ll send stone crabs and key lime pie from @joesstonecrab.

I will just drop them off in Naples or Marco Island since that’s basically Indiana south this time of year.

[Sarah Huckabee Sanders @SarahHuckabee]

Exactly right from @CoachCalArk - America’s experiment with NIL has badly broken college athletics.

Great to see that the loudest voice for common sense is coming out of Arkansas.

[John Calipari @CoachCalArk]

I don’t have all the answers, but I want to start a dialogue. We need to make sure the decisions we make help us continue to change the lives of young people. And let’s include all stakeholders - including athletes and coaches - in the conversation.

https://t.co/VjKmv8Nal7

[University of Arkansas @UArkansas]

For the third consecutive year, the U of A is one of TIME Magazine’s Best Colleges for Future Leaders. Proud to continue our land-grant mission of preparing Arkansas students for leadership and impact. 🐗

[Traci Williams @TraciSmith15]

@MattDevittWX We are from Arkansas with a love for SWFL and you are the only weather person we follow in that area. You will be scooped up so fast and I just hope it is still in SWFL (or Arkansas)!! No matter where you go, we will still follow! ❄️ ☀️ 💨 ☔️

[Rapid Response 47 @RapidResponse47]

🚨 BREAKING

[Arkansas Football 🐗 @RazorbackFB]

History for @cameronglittle!

[Arkansas Football 🐗 @RazorbackFB]

A beautiful sight

[𝗨𝗖𝗔 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗧𝗕𝗔𝗟𝗟 @UCA_Football]

That's all from Florence!
#BearClawsUp x #ThisisWinning

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[Robert F. Kennedy Jr @RobertKennedyJr]

My beloved aunt Joan Bennett Kennedy, former wife of the late Senator Edward M. Kennedy (D-MA), classical pianist, music teacher, and advocate for mental health and addiction services, passed away peacefully in her sleep at her home in Boston, Massachusetts yesterday at the age of 89.

She was my friend, confidante, and my partner in recovery. Joan inspired me with her courage and humility. She was one of the first prominent women in America to publicly acknowledge her struggles with alcoholism and depression, a move that she felt was essential to breaking the silence and tackling the taboo of addiction in the 1970s. Her honesty and candor, and her ability to successfully recreate her life in Boston, a community that supported her privacy and embraced her recovery, made her an inspiration to countless other women facing similar challenges. She encouraged many family members in early sobriety.

At age 25, in 1962, Joan was the youngest wife of a U.S. Senator in United States history. She was a kind and generous aunt to me and my 27 cousins. She was the last survivor of an extraordinary generation of Kennedys. We all feel grateful for the time God gave us with her.

[First Lady Melania Trump @FLOTUS]

Generations of @USNavy sailors have kept America free because of their presence on the high seas. Your strength, bravery, and sacrifice inspire us all. #Navy250

[Hogtoons @realrayzorback]

@RazorbackFB

[𝗨𝗖𝗔 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗧𝗕𝗔𝗟𝗟 @UCA_Football]

Touchdown in Cali! 🛬

#BearClawsUp

[𝗨𝗖𝗔 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗧𝗕𝗔𝗟𝗟 @UCA_Football]

Conference action tomorrow.

#BearClawsUp x #FearTheStripes