05/08/2026
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐: ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฒ ๐จ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ง ๐๐ก๐จ ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐๐ฌ ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ
In the spring of 1908, an ambitious thirty-five-year-old named Jess L. Hontz arrived in Gas City. The gas boom days had settled, but the town still held promiseโand Hontz was drawn by opportunity.
He partnered with local businessmen, including O. Gordon, to establish the Gas City Mercantile Company. Inside its doors were dry goods and ready-to-wear clothing. For four years, Hontz managed the operation with steady discipline and an eye for quality that caught the attention of local leaders.
๐ ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง ๐ข๐ง ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ฉ
When Mayor Barney Sullivan resigned, Hontz stepped into leadership, serving as mayor for about six months. His time in office was brief, but it revealed something about himโhe wasnโt afraid to step forward when needed.
Still, the road called.
He left Gas City, traveling through places like Monticello and even as far as Oklahoma. For three years, he searchedโperhaps for opportunity, perhaps for something less tangible. But in the end, the answer was simple. Gas City was home.
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐จ๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ง๐๐ซ
In 1916, Hontz returned and planted roots more firmly this time. On the corner of Second and Main Streets, he opened his own store: a menโs furnishings and clothing shop that became a fixture of the community.
People didnโt just shop thereโthey trusted it.
Inside, you could find menโs and boyโs clothes, tailored suits, polished shoes, work clothes, custom caps โand the quiet assurance that you were being taken care of by someone who believed in his town. For nearly two decades, the store stood as a symbol of stability and pride.
By 1934, Hontz closed the shop and transitioned into a new role, managing the insurance department at Twin City State Bank. Even then, he remained woven into the fabric of Gas City life.
๐ ๐๐ข๐๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง
When Hontz passed away in 1956, he left behind more than memoriesโhe left a vision. His bequest to the city was substantial, ($19,000 in 1956 is equivalent to $230,660 in 2026). Hontzโs intention was clear: he wanted Gas City to have a hospital. He understood the importance of healthcare access and hoped to give his community something lasting and vital.
At the time, Mayor Robert Ray and city officials carefully evaluated the possibility. But reality intervened. The cost of building and sustaining a modern hospitalโstaffing, equipment, regulationsโfar exceeded what the donation could support.
It was a difficult decision. Let the money sit unused, or find another way to honor his legacy?
For nearly fifteen years the money had stayed in a trust until Mayor Eugene โBeanerโ Linn chose to make it his mission that the people would benefit from Hontzโs generosity.
๐ ๐๐ข๐๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐จ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฒ
In 1969, under Linnโs leadership, bank officials and the Gas City Park Board chose to act. Eager to begin what is now a beautiful park, they were successful in their attempt to get a court to release the hospital money in order to build a community building. Instead of a hospital, they built something they could sustainโa place where the community could gather, celebrate, and support one another. And they named it in his honor: ๐๐จ๐ง๐ญ๐ณ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ.
Located in Gas City Park, the building opened in the early 1970s and became a living extension of Hontzโs generosity. It was immediately utilized as a community senior cafe and gathering center for Gas City โand Jonesboro residents alike. Over the years this beautiful hall has hosted weddings, reunions, craft bazaars, community meals, and countless moments of connection.
It may not have been the hospital he envisionedโbut it fulfilled the deeper purpose behind his gift: serving people.
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ฌ ๐
๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐
Decades later, the healthcare dream Hontz once imagined would finally take shape in a different form. The opening of Marion Health East brought modern medical care closer to the Gas City community. Not directly from his fundsโbut undeniably part of the same story of growth and care for the region.
๐ ๐๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐ก๐๐ญ ๐๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ฌ
Jess L. Hontzโs life wasnโt defined by a single role. While he had no wife or children when he died, Gas City was his family. He was a merchant, a mayor, a traveler, and ultimately, a giver. But more than that, he was a man who believed in a small Indiana town enough to leave it better than he found it.
And today, every gathering inside Hontz Hallโevery laugh, every handshake, every shared mealโis a quiet echo of that belief.
๐ท๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ข โ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฆ ๐๐ก ๐ป๐๐๐ก๐ง ๐ป๐๐๐? ๐๐โ๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ก๐ โ๐๐๐ ๐๐กโ๐ โ๐๐๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ข๐ ๐ ๐ก๐๐๐ฆ ๐๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก๐ ๐
