When David Millard first took office seven years ago, few could have predicted just how deeply his leadership would shape Waldron.
As a general rule, I frown upon stories written in the first person. This time, however, in order to tell the story — the whole story — I must bend my own rule and tell you about the man, the mayor, David Millard.
We met when he was first running for election. Neil Cherry introduced us in a small, quaint office at the end of a long hallway inside the municipal building. We were planning our first Meet the Candidates forum that year, and both he and his opponent attended.
His message was soft, kind, and rooted in humility.
I still remember what he said would be his first order of business if elected: learn the jobs and understand the difficulties city service workers face. That spirit of commonality and sincerity won him the election.
And true to his word, one of the very first things he did was ride on the back of a city trash truck.
Not for show.
Not for a photo op.
Just to understand.
That’s who David Millard is.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Millard’s deep Christian roots. I can’t count the number of times we sat in his office and prayed together — sometimes through tears, sometimes in gratitude — thankful for the many ways God had shown Himself real in his life and in the lives of his family.
Long before becoming mayor, Millard had already committed his life to public service.
He began his career with the Waldron Police Department in March 1992. In October 2015, he was promoted to Chief of Police. A year later, he graduated from the Arkansas Leader Program, hosted by the FBI and the Criminal Justice Institute.
The year 2008 alone reads like a résumé most people build over a lifetime. He was elected president of the Arkansas Municipal Police Association, appointed Police Commissioner on the Law Enforcement Standards and Training Board, and served on the Advisory Board of the Criminal Justice Institute.
“I was able to get the officers of Waldron Police Department some of the best training in the nation through the Criminal Justice Institute,” he once told me.
In 2009, the certified law enforcement instructor received two awards from the Arkansas Prevention Network for his work helping pass the nation’s first Social Host State Law.
He retired from the police department in 2018 — but retirement didn’t really suit him. He continued serving with the Fire Department and was recently honored for 25 years of service.
Service, after all, isn’t something Dave does.
It’s who he is.
As mayor, he continued the work of those before him while adding his own vision. Under his leadership, the city park became the crown jewel of the community — beach volleyball, exercise equipment, bankshot basketball, pickleball courts, the Dinosaur Dig, a pavilion, water fountains, and bathrooms.
He honored his father’s legacy with what would become “Mayor Dave’s Annual Easter Egg Hunt.” At Christmas, he helped lead toy drives for area children.
During his two terms, he secured multiple and sizeable grants benefiting the Fire Department, City Park, airport, storm sirens, sidewalks, and more. He saw monthly trade days flourish. Main Street began filling with boutiques and small businesses. Scott County Hardware and Casey’s General Store opened its doors.
The city grew.
But the man never changed.
Over many visits — and more than a few lunch dates at Charbroiler, where his favorites were the nachos or the loaded potato — I came to know not just the mayor, but the man.
He made it a point to begin each day at City Hall with employees in prayer. Those quiet moments of faith and fellowship carried through both of his terms and will continue until his last day in office.
His time as mayor wasn’t simply public service.
It felt like a calling.
In this line of work, I meet a lot of elected officials. Some impress you. Some disappoint you. Very few leave exactly as they arrived — steady, genuine, and true to who they are.
David Millard is one of the rare ones.
Seven years later, he is still the same kind, gentle, humble man I met in that little office at the end of the hallway.
And somewhere along the way, without fanfare or announcement, I realized something else.
I came to know not just the mayor, but the man — and forever, my friend.
