By AAH Jack Quirk
There was more than just a sign being unveiled at the newly named Jim Shimanek Memorial Bridge, there was a lifetime of stories, friendships, and a whole lot of history standing right there beside it.
Shimanek, Mike Sparks and foreman Clay Vincent gathered for photos and a few laughs, the conversation quickly turned into something deeper, a reflection on the man behind the name.
Shimanek was the Kingfisher County Commissioner for District 2 for 22 years, holding this position until he retired at the end of 2010.
Mike Sparks, the current Commissioner for District 2, worked for Shimanek for those 22 years. Jim Shimanek wasn’t just a boss. To many, he was a mentor, a teacher, and, as Mike Sparks put it, “my protégé right there.”
For more than two decades, Shimanek worked alongside his crew, pushing them, sometimes harder than they wanted, but always for a reason. And years later, those lessons stuck.
“He made me do stuff I didn’t want to do,” Sparks laughed. “But now I use it every day in this job. It’s kind of ironic.”
That was a common theme. What felt tough in the moment turned out to be exactly what they needed.
Shimanek and Sparks gathered on the newly built bridge, located NE of Hennessey, 1.5 north of Hwy 51 on N2890 Rd, now with a new name, to reminisce.
The stories rolled in one after another, FEMA disasters, washed-out roads, late-night calls, and the kind of work that doesn’t show up on paper but keeps a county running. Five FEMA declarations occurred during Shimanek’s time, something his colleagues joked you don’t truly understand unless you’ve lived through it.
And then there were the smaller stories, the ones that brought the biggest laughs.
Like the time a “quick fix” turned into a lesson about doing the job right. Or the infamous slingshot incident involving a brand-new grader windshield, which, as expected, did not go over well.
“Next morning,” Sparks said, grinning, “we were all called outside. I just knew I was done.”
But even those moments told the same story, a crew that worked hard, learned together, and stuck together.
Shimanek expected effort. If a road washed out on a Saturday, you went. If a farmer called, you didn’t guess, you went and looked. And if something broke, you figured it out.
“He’d call, and I’d go,” Sparks said. “Didn’t matter when.”
That kind of loyalty didn’t come from a job title. It came from respect.
And the respect clearly went both ways.
“I loved these guys,” Shimanek said. “That was the best part of the job. I took my share of chewings, but working with them made it worth it.”
Standing there at the bridge, it was clear this wasn’t just about honoring a name on a sign. It was about recognizing the kind of leadership that leaves a mark long after the work is done.
The kind that builds more than bridges. It builds people.
Shimanek joked, “The sign says memorial! I’m not dead yet!”












