On a gentle Saturday morning in September, just after the first hint of autumn had appeared, a group of the late Dr. Mike Liggett’s family and friends gathered at Creekmore Park in Fort Smith.
A stone’s throw away, on the edge of the park, stands the Liggetts’ Parklane Family Dental practice, where Dr. Mike’s patients had gazed through the wide windows, taking in the natural beauty of Creekmore. Often, a squirrel or two would perform acrobatics in the ancient trees, and someone strolling the walking path with their dog would have to tug on its leash to keep their pet from joining the ruckus.
The scene from the dentist’s chair was almost like viewing a living work of art. Now, another masterpiece, by Arkansas sculptor Jonathan Cromer, was being unveiled. The Liggetts commissioned the sculpture to honor the legacy of Mike, the patriarch of their family, after talking with close family friends, John McIntosh and Dwight Curry. Nine regional artists submitted proposals, and Jonathan’s was chosen, in part because he seemed to understand the man so well. John McIntosh, well known for spearheading The Unexpected Festival of Murals, created by internationally known street artists, served as curator for the family.
In steel and stone, Jonathan captured Mike’s reputation as the life of the party and his unbounded devotion to his family. Acrylic panels caught shifting iridescent colors and projected them across the ground. The colors changed with the position of the sun and the viewer. Jonathan said the interactive element conveyed Dr. Liggett’s enduring and uplifting character—a continued dialogue with family and community.
Dr. Kris Liggett, Mike’s son and business partner, agreed. “Dad always looked on the bright side,” Kris said. “He was an eternal optimist. He never wallowed in trouble. He wanted to find the lesson we could learn.”
Mike met his wife, Judi, when she came to see him as an emergency patient. Her bad tooth was his good fortune. Four children would join the family, and later, a passel of grandchildren. The couple had been together for forty-seven years when Mike passed away in August 2023.
Kris continued. “Dad made us feel like we could do anything we wanted. He always let us know the sky was the limit.” The Liggett world was also full of music. “Whenever he was waiting for the rest of us to get ready, he’d be in the other room, playing the piano and singing… My friends and I would have jam sessions with him when we were younger. There was always some form of music in the house, from the time we got up in the morning to the time we went to bed.
“He could play and sing anything from the Elton John songbook. He took us to concerts, even when we were younger than we should have been, and gave us a love and passion for music.”
John McIntosh went to Northside High School with Mike. “He was a character,” John said. “He was fun and funny. He lived on the edge of the music world, and we all were kind of jealous of his talent.” Mike was part of a band, The Off Beats, and the talk around town in the 1960s was that the underage band played at a local bar, sometimes five times a week.
In later years, John’s twins, Ali and Seth, would become friends with Mike’s daughter Lauren. John remembers Lauren’s high school graduation party at the Liggetts’ house. “Mike and Judi had such a lovely family. That night, Mike was so proud of Lauren, and everyone else’s kids.” John paused and then said of the man who worked hard and played hard, “Mike was someone who went for it, and when he went for it, he succeeded.”
Dwight Curry knew Mike for thirty years. “I watched the kids grow up. The Liggetts were always welcoming, and supportive of everything their kids did. Mike loved to entertain. He loved to host dinner parties, and he also loved performing. The best nights in his house were when he’d sit down at the piano or grab his guitar and we’d all sing along. The joy that brought was remarkable; he was a one-of-a-kind human being.”
Capturing the essence of who Mike was, seemed nearly impossible. But standing in front of the sculpture, with bands of multi-colored light reflected in a horseshoe shape around the center boulder, felt like an existential hug. There was a wide smile of purple light on the ground below. Kris said of his father, “I think the reason he was so well-liked as a dentist was because he never had any prejudice. He was excited to meet every new patient; he wanted to learn about them, to help them. Socially, he wanted to know what someone’s life was like, and how he could be a positive part of it.”
Now, Dr. Mike’s sculpture seemed to be saying, “Stand still and smile for a while. What can it hurt?”
Visit The Best Is Yet To Come Memorial Sculpture at Creekmore Park, in Fort Smith.
