Nita Sewell knew 1970 had to be the year.

After all, that was the year she and her first husband, the Rev. Ronald Sundbye, were married. It was also the year activists kicked open the doors of the First Methodist Church where Sundbye preached and demanded $75,000.

“Ron and I were dating, and there were protests and unrest. It was such a tumultuous year,” Sewell said.

So when she read that the Lawrence Sesquicentennial Commission was selling stones to commemorate individuals who had helped shape the community, Sewell knew she had to buy one.

“I thought I’d really like to do that for Ron. It’s not just a personal thing. He had such a positive effect on members of the community.”

That year, Sundbye was at the height of his popularity as a preacher. His sermons were so popular with students and community members, he had to conduct Easter services at Kansas University’s old Hoch Auditorium because his church couldn’t hold all the people.

“I thought it would be neat to commemorate the time he was on top of the world,” Sewell said.

The stones will be a part of a larger project the commission’s Horizon committee decided on earlier this year, said Bill Crowe, treasurer of the commission’s board of directors.

Each stone will represent a year in Lawrence’s history, from 1854 to 2004, and will function as stairs on the south side of Clinton Lake.

The committee was looking for a way to leave a lasting reminder of the anniversary, much like Centennial Park for the city’s first 100 years, Crowe said.

So they looked for an area that would serve as both a landmark for future development and a gathering place for the community, he said.

After discussing different locations and looking at the city’s development plans, the committee decided on the area of Clinton Park now called Sesquicentennial Point.

“It’s just a stunning view of the valley,” Crowe said. “As Lawrence develops that direction, it will be a wonderful gathering place for people.”

The stones themselves will allow the monument to pay for itself without having to use tax money, Crowe said. All are priced according to the year they represent — the year 1854 sells for $1,854, for example.

Thirty of the stones have been sold or reserved, according to board members, but the hope is that once advertising begins for the stones, local residents and businesses will take notice.

Though the stone steps serve to pay for the park they adorn, to the people who lend their family’s name to the stones, the gesture means much more.

Crowe said that from his experience, every stone had a story. Lawrence lawyer William Pendleton bought 1877, to honor the memory of his grandfather who worked at a mercantile buying and selling food from local farmers.

Crowe and his wife, Nancy Sanders, were among the first to purchase one of the dated stones. They purchased 1908, the date Sanders’ grandfather, Charles B. Sanders, bought the Lawrence farm where Crowe and Sanders still live.

Horizon Committee chairwoman Mary Burchill bought the stone for 1904, the year early abolitionist Amos Dresser died in Lawrence. Burchill is related to the Dresser family.

Sewell said she bought Sundbye’s stone to represent both her husband’s accomplishments in life and a decision she made about death.

When Sundbye died in 1995, his family buried him in Oak Hill Cemetery. But Sewell knows she won’t be there with him.

She’s remarried now. When she dies, she wants to be buried next to her husband, Ed Sewell. Sundbye will remain alone.

To Sewell, the stone at Sesquicentennial Point is, in a small way, trying to make up for her not being with her first husband in death the way she was in life.

“He deserves more than that,” Sewell said, looking at an old program for Sundbye’s Easter services.

“Maybe people who see the stone won’t remember his name,” Sewell said. “But I always will.”