Town Changing Dedication.

My tiny town in Kansas was doing what it always did in April—drip, drip, drop. The pretty little town I'm from never fails to remind me of the spring rain song in Bambi when winter finally heads out. The water had been intermittently downpouring for weeks now, not that the farmers were complaining. This Tuesday morning was no different, but even the drastically damp weather couldn't drench my mood. I was getting to do what I love best: photograph my hometown. And more importantly, I was on a secret mission. 

The absolute best part about being a photojournalist in a small town is the access. You're trusted with their stories, allowed onto construction zones, and given nearly free rein at events. It must be earned, and never taken for granted. However, if you take the time to do so—to prove that you will put the town's best interests first—there is no better place to be a journalist.

In a small town, love and loyalty are currency. Show both, and they will trust you with their secrets.

As I am about to trust you with one of my own—one that some know, but a great many do not.
It's time they do.

Simply put, Seth Nutt is not who many of you think he is. 

This weekend I messaged Seth, who I've known a large chunk of my life, and asked him for a favor. As the new library director, I wanted him to pose for a portrait in our town's library while it's still under construction—one of two portraits in a series involving the new library. The other will be when it's finished. He's a good friend and understands that when you hang out with artists, we often have odd requests. So of course he said, “Sure, Keesh, whatever you need.” I will admit my inner Disney villain giggled at his agreement. After all, I was being ornery here. “I'll even do an update on the library while I'm there,” I said. 

What Seth did not realize was the purpose of the series. 

You see, I understand that many of you know Seth Nutt. He graduated from Frontenac. His mom is a darn near saint and worked at the school for years. So everyone thinks they know Seth. However, few people understand exactly how much that man has done—and continues to do—for Frontenac. 

Seth Nutt is not who you think he is. He is so much more. 

All too often, the people who do so much are hidden from history. The problem with good people like Seth is that they are often incredibly humble. They do what must be done, give all they can give, then gently bow out. They take no credit unless it is shoved into their hands and they are forcefully pushed onto the podium. Often, we do not remember them in history the way their conduct dictates we should. I refuse to allow that to be the situation here.

So let me tell you a story, friends. I have learned from living all over the country that tiny towns often hit crossroads. They are usually not anyone's fault. More often—like it was here—a case of time. Small towns survive on love for community, and often, volunteers. 

In 2016, it became clear to several of us that Frontenac needed some new energy. We had asked so much of the previous generation of dedicated volunteers. They were tired. They had planned, showed up, cleaned up, and so much more for decades. They deserved a break. 

As a result, the town felt like it needed a shot in the arm—a reminder of who it was and why it should be darn proud of its history. New people involved, and new energy. One of those was Seth Nutt. 

A Frontenac grad, Seth immediately jumped into the committee trying to bring back Frontenac Homecoming. It was successful, and within just a few years, Seth became the president of the committee. Now called Mining Days, the event brings thousands of people downtown to shop, dance, and have fun. It also requires hundreds of hours of unpaid work from Seth and his team.

As if the parades, food, vendors, and live music weren't enough, Seth and his best friend Brady went one step further. And this, friends, is where the magic of this story begins. 

You see, Brady and Seth share a love of history—especially Frontenac history. They devoted themselves to finding, documenting, and preserving the history of Frontenac and putting it on display during Mining Days. Called Heritage Hall, it went from a few cases in Town Hall to a massive display that took days to set up. 

It was not only inclusive of nearly every era in our town's history, but it was relatable. Set up in a way that was both approachable and respectful, you didn't feel like you were in a museum. It felt like someone’s perfectly arranged family parlor, seeing their treasures. You were home. This wasn't just anyone's history—it was yours. Anyone who has ever slipped on a Raider shirt suddenly felt like they were looking through grandma's photo book. 

It was impossible not to feel connected to your neighbors—to places like Pallucca’s or the bakery, to the school. It united us with our past and each other like nothing else ever has. The display was built year after year, and people wanted to be involved again. We remembered who we were. Hello Frontenac was launched in 2017, and Seth has been a caring supporter from the start. 

If Seth had only spent all those hours every year on Mining Days and helped create Heritage Hall, that would be enough for us all to be grateful. However, you're about to learn that there are a great many ands in Seth's story over the past decade. 

You see, Seth is not only the creator of Heritage Hall and the president of Mining Days and an amazing husband to an equally talented lady and a father of four great kids and a devoted son, brother, and friend... 

He is also a school board member. Seth helped guide Frontenac through some incredibly tough times during the pandemic. People were scared and incredibly reactive. It was a very hard time to be an elected official of any type. During his many years on the board, Frontenac has won many awards for educational excellence while continuing to be a small-town gem. Our stadium may look like it belongs to a college, but our seniors still read books to our first graders. It's a wonderful place. 

Perhaps the biggest and of Seth's career, though, was the one his town asked of him a few years ago. A major donation had been given to the city for a brand-new public library. Frontenac needed someone to manage the entire process from start to finish. 

Frontenac has a colorful past. So it was extremely important to many of us that the person in charge not only be competent, trusted, and very transparent, but also understood our community. Any mishandling of the project would have gone over extremely badly, and the community was watching carefully. 

At the time, Seth was working for a prestigious university here in Kansas. He was certainly on a good career path that would have definitely given him a much fancier title than “Library Director.” However, Seth jumped at the chance to help his community. Again. 

He could have turned so much over. He could have just managed the project, kept an eye on it, but not gotten overly emotionally involved. Do the job. Get paid. Go home. And... of course not. Not Seth. He threw himself into it. Helped build an amazing team. Spent hours on the road visiting other libraries, learning what worked and what didn’t. Researched, researched, researched. 

And because he's a talented amateur architect and artist, he designed nearly all of the library layout himself—so well, in fact, his drawings required only minor changes from the engineer (as well as a lot of epic help from Tri-State Building to make it happen).

And then Seth helped secure an additional huge donation to create a one-of-a-kind experience: Heritage Hall Museum. Not a display of objects. A real experience. 

All of those years of gathering historic material have become a living town. The back of the library has been transformed into old town Frontenac—complete with coal tunnels, a bakery, and a school. 

As I ran my hands over the bricks from the bakery oven where my own grandfather worked, I barely held back the tears. 

Frontenac will never fade away. Who we are, what we stand for, what prior generations built—it will be remembered now. Always. 

No one but Seth could have done that. Known and understood the delicate history of our town enough to have created that museum.
To bring together the town the way he has. 

I can not imagine the weight of that responsibility. Yet, as is usual for Seth, he did it. 

There are many more and moments I could tell you about. With Seth, the list goes on. But I believe I've made my point. Frontenac may be known for our history of wise guys in suits, but the heart of our community is more often seen in men like Seth—dressed in Raider shirts and with big hearts. 

Seth Nutt is so much more than just a Frontenac resident. He is a shining example of the kind of Frontenac Friend we all want to be. He deserves all the love and recognition we can give him.

I hope when the Heritage Hall Museum opens in the library in June, you will join me in thanking Seth for all he's done for Frontenac. He has definitely earned his own place in the history of our community at Heritage Hall Museum.