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Page 1: Dreamy - September 2012

dream

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tember 2012

AtUrb

anMagazine.com

Page 2: Dreamy - September 2012
Page 3: Dreamy - September 2012
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A Fair Day, A Fine Day

Praying for Rain

This Big Ol' Piggie Went to Marketpeop

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Bloody Maria

The Secret Macaroontast

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Catherine Frederick

Marla Cantrell

Lawrence BuentelloMarla CantrellMarcus CokerKody FordCatherine FrederickLaura HobbsTonya McCoyAnita PaddockGalen Probasco

Marla CantrellCatherine FrederickSaidee HolmesMark Mundorff

Jeromy Price

David Jamell

Read Chair Publishing, LLC

MANAGING EDITOR

DESIGNER

WEB GURU

EDITOR-IN-CHIEFPRESIDENT

©2012 Read Chair Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved. The opinions contained in @Urban are exclusively those of the writers and do not represent those of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. as a whole or its affiliates. Any correspondence to @Urban or Read Chair Publishing, LLC., including photography becomes the property of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. @Urban reserves the right to edit content and images.

CONTRIBUTINGWRITERS

CONTRIBUTINGPHOTOGRAPHERS

PUBLISHER

Advertising InformationCatherine Frederick at 479 / 782 / 1500

[email protected]

Editorial InformationMarla Cantrell at 479 / 831 / 9116

[email protected]

@INSIDE

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Hello. It’s our second birthday! Yep. Two whole years since we published the first issue

of @Urban Magazine. We spent an afternoon recently, going through our back issues,

reminicisng about the people we’ve met and the places we’ve been. I know, that sounds like the

beginning of a Dr. Seuss story. It’s been a little like that for us. It’s feels magical really.

So, we’re going around with these ridiculous grins, and I imagine now you are to, since you’ve

seen the cover with Benson, the winner of our My @Urban Pet photo contest. Isn’t he adorable?

His owners, Jeremy and Christen Dean, think so. Choosing Benson was one of the hardest things

we’ve had to do. All your pets were so cute and we are honored you shared them with us! You

should go give them a treat right now. No, really, I’ll wait.

Now that you’re back, we can talk about our newest contest. Here’s what we’re doing. We’re asking

you, our faithful readers, to send us YOUR best short story and/or poem. The contest is open to

those thirteen and older. Here’s the best part. Not only are there cash prizes, but the first place

winners will be published in our January, 2013 issue. Be sure to check our Marla’s short story on page sixteen, and then go to our

website for details on how to enter.

After you settle down from all that excitement, start reading. We’re taking you to the Arkansas House in Jasper for a little R&R, a dinner

of elk and buffalo, and finishing it off with black walnut pie. We’re taking you way up high for a look at what professional divers see

right before they take the plunge. And we’re introducing you to Mr. Pig and the artist who loves him.

All this, plus chocolate dipped coconut macaroons, a spicy tomato concoction for cocktail hour, and a DIY that will help you stay

organized all school year long.

And finally, thank you for supporting @Urban as our story unfolds. You complete us. Hope we had you at “hello”.

To reserve this space for your charitable non-profit organization, email: [email protected]

@LETTER FROM CATHERINE

Page 8: Dreamy - September 2012

Tours offered by appointment only, so call early. Kids can take hayrides

around the farm, pet and feed farm animals, take a trip to the pumpkin

patch, and go through the corn maze.

The best fiddlers compete for braggin’ rights. Open to all, contestants

pay one low price for the whole weekend. Fiddle judges will be the

special performing guests on the evening shows. Regular admission

fees apply.

Fest of All highlights a variety of cultural and ethnic groups through

performances of traditional music, dance and art. Join the fun, and

learn something new!

Scooters from maxis to moped are invited to the scooter rally for 4

days of riding fun. The scenic roads in the Ozark Mountains are the

backdrop of this fun filled event.

Fall Harvest Tours

Fiddle ChampionshipFest of All

SCOOTING THE OZARKS

Wild Things Farm, Pocola

Mountain View, Ozark Folk Center State Park

Fayetteville Square

Eureka Springs

wildthingsfarm.com or 918.626.4053

ozarkfolkcenter.com

experiencefayetteville.com

scoottheozarks.proboards.comWhen: September, October Cost: see website for details

When: September 14th – 15th Cost: Music, $10 adults, $6 kids, Under 6 freeWhen: Sept. 6th, 5–8p.m. Cost: Free

When: Sept. 12th – 15th Cost: Free

6

Page 9: Dreamy - September 2012

New York Times bestselling author Pat Conroy will speak in Tulsa about

his life as a writer. Two of his novels, The Prince of Tides and The Great

Santini, were made into Oscar-nominated films. The Water is Wide, The

Lords of Discipline, Beach Music, My Losing Season, South of Broad, and

My Reading Life, all gained critical acclaim.

Don’t miss this high-octane theatrical experience. The Blue Man Group

is a must-see performance combining comedy, music, technology,

and enough makeup to turn them blue. What a great show!

Willie Nelson, Roseanne Cash, The Civil Wars and Dierks Bentley team

up for a benefit concert at the Convo on the Arkansas State University

Campus. The event will raise money for the Johnny Cash Boyhood

Home Project.

The kids are back in school, and

the cooler weather is (hopefully)

right around the corner. Take some

time this month to take in a show,

ride through the Ozarks, or attend a

festival where fried chicken is the

star. Then check out the Amp’s ad

on page 41, to see the music lineup

for this month.

The Mt. Nebo Chicken Fry has been a tradition in Dardanelle since 1948.

And while the chicken draws the crowd, the rice they serve with it is

equally as popular. There will be also be kids games, a chicken calling

contest, and arts and crafts.

Pat Conroy: My Writing Life

Blue Man Group

Johnny Cash Music Festival

Mt. Nebo Chicken Fry

Tulsa Performing Arts Center, 110 E. 2nd St.

Fort Smith Convention Center

Arkansas State University

Veterans Riverfront Park, Dardanelle

tulsapac.com

ticketsage.com/uafs or call 479.788.7300

johnnycashmusicfest.com

479.229.3328

When: Sept. 21st Cost: See website for details

When: September 15th Cost: See website for details

When: October 5th Cost: See website for details

When: Sept. 22nd, Dinners Served from 11am to 5:30pm

Cost: $5 for adults, $3 for kids

7

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@lines Lawrence Buentello

Circling higher, through the turquoise

F ields of an undivided sky, the hawk

Observes the world from its natural position,

Above those f lightless eyes that watch it

From below, and wonder why, and wait;

Is it searching for its prey, or some sure harbor,

Or trespassers of its territory;

Or is it following its own philosophy,

An artist of the air, returning only to the earth

When its wings have lost the strength to keep

Its f light; and perching there, in common trees,

Until its strength returns—

@LIFESTYLE

9

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Amid the picturesque Ouachita Mountains near Mena, lies

Dogtired Ranch Small Dog Rescue, Inc. The ranch, which

sits on eight acres of rolling hills, is a temporary home for many

little dogs (and a few large ones), in need of a loving home.

Today, the ranch is booming with activity. On one side of the

fenced front yard, a sleepy-eyed hound appears in the doorway

of the fourteen-by-eighteen foot bunkhouse. Nearby, a poodle

and a rat terrier romp in the grass, while a pug chases a ball.

The dogs are just four of sixty that are currently living at the

ranch, all waiting for the day when the right person shows up

to adopt them.

There on the porch stands Janet Dodson, the founder and

president of Dogtired Ranch. Janet, along with husband Bobby,

have dedicated their retirement years, as well as their home,

to these dogs. This September will mark their fifth year in

operation. The non-profit, no-kill organization receives funding

from adoption fees, donations from supporters, and from

the Dodsons’ own pocketbook. The costs can be staggering;

monthly food bills alone run over $1,000.

Janet and Bobby could never do it alone. They have a team,

including Janet’s daughter, Amy O’Pry, from Shreveport,

Louisiana, who help make the ranch work. Amy and her young

daughter manage the ranch’s Facebook page and website. She

also helps pick up rescued dogs from various animal control

facilities in Louisiana and gets them to the ranch.

“Many of these facilities don’t hold the dogs but a few days and

then they are put down,” Janet says. “Many are very ‘high kill’

shelters. We are pleased that some of these are willing to hand

over the dogs to us, so that we can place them for adoption.”

Each month in our Ignite series we bring you stories of people doing inspiring things to make the world a better place.

@story and images Galen Probasco

10

Page 13: Dreamy - September 2012

Another member of the team is Nancy McIntyre, who lives in

Acorn, just north of Mena. She is Dogtired Ranch’s foster mom

and runs the ranch’s puppy division. “My home has gone to the

dogs,” Nancy says and then laughs. She has turned a part of her

home into a maternity ward and nursery for the dogs, where

she can often be found bottle feeding the pups who require it.

Right now she has approximately fifty puppies.

Dogtired Ranch has placed over 600 pets in loving homes,

mostly in the northeastern part of the United States. To adopt

a dog, the potential owner must fill out an application, have a

reference from a vet, and go through a pre-adoption interview.

The cost ranges from $50 to $150, depending on the vet bills,

which includes the cost to either spay or neuter the dog.

The non-profit works with at least six area shelters including

the Sebastian County Humane Society, taking dogs that might

otherwise be put down. Dogtired also works with several

different local government officials to help find homes for the

dogs taken from abusive and neglectful situations.

It’s a feat in organization and caring that keeps Dogtired Ranch

on track. The ranch is teeming with dogs right now, all living

good lives, waiting for the right person to come along and take

them home.

“Though technically, there is no set limit, at least so far, I feel

we are operating at top capacity,” Janet says. “Because we hate

turning animals away, we try to find foster homes, if we just can’t

take them in at the time,” says Janet. “As long as our incoming

rescues and adoptions balance each other, we’ll continue to

operate at full capacity. There are just too many dogs and not

enough homes.”

If Janet can’t find a home for one of these dogs, she keeps it.

“Miss May, a fluffy, five pound Maltese, has been with us since

we began. She is at least fifteen years old, and has been at the

ranch longer than any dog yet. She is definitely the queen of

the house.”

Janet looks across the ranch where the dogs are playing. The

sound of barking rolls across the hill. She smiles. There’s no

other place she’d rather be than right here, fulfilling the ranch’s

mission of saving God’s creatures, one dog at a time.

For more information, visit dogtiredranch.com or call 479.394.2524

@LIFESTYLE

11

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School is back in full swing and my little man is bringing

home tons of papers that I want to show off. Back in the day,

I would have taped all of the papers to my refrigerator. When you

can’t see your refrigerator anymore, you know there’s a problem.

Enter this custom “brag board” I found on Pinterest®. It’s easy

and inexpensive to put together, keeps things organized, and

you can completely customize it. Don’t have little ones? Use it

for photos, reminders or a grocery list! Ready?

* I purchased the materials noted at Hobby Lobby for under $20.

Everything else, I already had at home. I know, I need crafters

anonymous.

» *Cupboard door or background of your choice

» *Oversized clothespin » *Scrapbook paper of

your choice (1 sheet) » *Wire for hanging » *Vinyl Letters or paint, and

brush if hand painting

» Modge Podge Matte » Gorilla glue or other adhesize » Sandpaper » Twine or ribbon (optional) » Drill » Paint in your choice of color » Stain in your choice

of color (if using)

Step 1Lightly sand, paint and/or stain your base board. I like the shabby look, so I sanded, painted, sanded, then lightly stained my board. Drill holes in the top two sides- this is where you will place your wire to hang the board.

Step 2While the paint is drying on the base board, affix the strip of scrapbook paper to the oversized clothespin. If you want to paint or stain the clothespin, be sure to do so and allow it to dry completely before gluing on the scrapbook paper with the Modge Podge. I sanded the edges to give mine a shabby look. Finish it off with one light coat of Modge Podge to seal the top and edges.

Step 3If using rub-on lettering, let the base board dry overnight or the letters will not adhere and will pull off the paint (this comes from experience). You can also use vinyl lettering or hand paint- either way is fine.

Step 4It’s now time to glue the clothespin to the base board. I used Gorilla Glue, but any strong adhesive glue will work. You just want to make sure whatever you clip into the pin does not come crashing down to the floor.

Step 5Using the wire, thread it through the holes and curl or knot the wire from the front to secure it in place. I wrapped some twine around the top of the wire to give it some extra pop.

Step 6Stand back and admire your handy work, then hang something!

Follow me on Pinterest®: Pinterest.com/catfrederick.

Making this project? Send me a finished photo!

[email protected]

@story and images Catherine Frederick

Materials

@LIFESTYLE

12

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straightforward sound of blue-collar, punk-influenced rock ‘n’

roll. However, their follow-up American Slang faltered, I believe,

because they became too obsessed with their influences.

Last year, Gaslight Anthem vocalist Brian Fallon claimed that

their upcoming album would resemble The ’59 Sound. Now

that they have released Handwritten, the results are in and it’s

a mixed bag.

The promising opening track “45” is a tale about a man hung up

on his lost love and a 45 record that reminds him of days gone

by. On “Too Much Blood,” the play between Fallon’s gravely

voice in the verse and the smooth melodic delivery during the

chorus works perfectly. “National Anthem” is the strongest track

as Fallon, backed only by strings, and delivers his most sincere

performance on the record.

But unlike The ’59 Sound, Handwritten features some mediocre

tunes. The title track seems like filler rather than the lynchpin of

the record. “Biloxi Parish” sounds like a gritty, restrained power

ballad, but the song quickly feels repetitive. The lesser tracks

find the band repeating its past mistake of trying too hard to be

someone else.

Handwritten is an improvement for The Gaslight Anthem,

although they fall short of the musical glory of The ’59 Sound.

Bands don’t always write albums like their previous ones.

Fans could lose interest quickly. But Fallon would be wise to

remember that you can’t always sound like Springsteen or the

Clash. And that can be a good thing.

Imagine that in the early ‘70s Bruce Springsteen fled Ashbury

Park and headed to England where he teamed up with The

Clash to form a super group of epic proportions. Now that you

have that idea, meet The Gaslight Anthem, a post-punk quartet

from Springsteen’s beloved New Jersey.

The band burst onto the scene with their debut Sink or Swim.

However, their sophomore release The ’59 Sound proved to be

their seminal album. It earned them international magazine

covers and garnered praise from American tastemakers like

SPIN and Pitchfork Media. The record possessed the earnestness

and longing of early Springsteen with a diverse take on the

now hear thisthe gaslight anthem — handwritten

@review Kody Ford

I Rate It

14

@ENTERTAINMENT

Page 17: Dreamy - September 2012

Imagine being an eleven-year-old boy, in love with the game

of baseball, whose father was a pitcher for the New York Mets.

You lived in White Plains, New York, and could ride the train in to

see ball games at Shea Stadium. Your scrapbooks were full of

newspaper articles about all your favorite baseball stars.

Even though your father could throw a baseball through a brick

wall, you had few pictures of him in your scrapbook. Your father

was a violent drunk who beat up on you and your mother.

And he eventually ruined baseball for you, himself, and Calico Joe.

That is exactly what happened to young Paul Tracey.

The story starts in 1973. Joe Castle, a fantastic ball player from

Calico Rock, Arkansas, has been called up from the minors to

play for the Chicago Cubs. The Calico Rock fans switched their

allegiance from the Cardinals to the Cubs because of Joe Castle,

otherwise known as Calico Joe.

Calico Joe hit homerun after homerun. He brought the Chicago

Cubs fans to their feet with deafening applause. He was the

most written about and talked about baseball player of the day,

and he was destined for unmatched fame in the All-American

sport of baseball.

That fame came to an end when a pitcher for the Mets, Warren

Tracey, angered because Joe has gotten a homerun off him,

threw a ball on purpose at his head, knocking Joe down and

almost killing him. That was also the day that the son of Warren

Tracey, eleven-year-old Paul, who had watched the game from

the stands at Shea Stadium, stopped loving the game.

Thirty years pass; Paul Tracey lives in Santa Fe with his family.

He gets a phone call from Warren Tracey’s fourth wife who tells

him his father is dying of cancer. Paul doesn’t care; he hasn’t

seen his father in years. He does come up with a plan: he wants

to take his father to Calico Rock where Joe lives with his mother

and works as a maintenance man on the high school’s baseball

field. He wants to make his father ask Joe for forgiveness.

This is a beautiful book, written by a fine storyteller. You’ll be

glad you read it, and I guarantee you’ll have a lump in your

throat when you finish.

Calico JoeBy John Grisham198 pages@review Anita Paddock

15

@ENTERTAINMENT

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16

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Do Good Jones sat in a recliner at Delbert’s Sporting Goods

Emporium, where he’d come to buy a turkey call. The chair,

covered in the same camouflage fabric as his clothes and cap,

seemed to swallow him whole. Only his ruddy face and hands

were visible. He considered getting up, but the ringing in his

ears had started again and he was sweating now, even though

it was late October.

Just then, a girl no bigger than his youngest granddaughter,

walked by and then stopped. She rounded the chair twice,

peering at him like she wondered if he was real. Do Good

reached up to tip his hat and the little girl shrieked. It didn’t

do to scare children, he thought. Soon enough someone would

come by and tell him to leave, so he grabbed the arms of the

chair and hoisted himself up.

The turkey calls were at the far end of the big store, past the

Razorback gear and Case knives. He stopped at the rickety log

cabin that had been built near the deep fryers, as winded as if

he’d spent the morning hoeing corn. A cot was set up near a

fake campfire and Do Good stopped, lowered himself onto it,

and felt himself slip into sleep, as easily as if he’d been drinking.

When he awoke, a woman was shaking him by the shoulders.

“Sir,” she said, “Sir. Are you all right?”

He rubbed his eyes. His vision had gone blurry, and it took all

his effort to focus. The woman’s cap was the color of mustard,

and in orange script were these words. No Matter What the

Question, Jesus is the Answer.

He felt unsettled, the way he did when he woke in a strange

hotel room. And embarrassed, truth be told. So he focused on

the hat. Now that he thought about it, the message on was an

outright affront to his very faith. God, in his opinion, was not in

the fortune telling business.

He pulled himself up, and said. “I got a question for your cap,

ma’am. What’s for dinner?”

“What?” the woman asked.

“On you cap,” Do Good said. “No matter what the question,

Jesus is the answer. My question is what’s for dinner? Not

Jesus, I wouldn’t think.”

The woman took a step back. “Here I am trying to make sure your

heart’s still beating and all you can do is insult me. I shouldn’t

try so hard, my friends tell me that all the time. They say, ‘Glory,

people mistake your goodwill for meddling,’ but I can’t seem

to stop. What happens to a person, I’d like to know, when she

stops giving a dog-dang’s difference about her fellow man?“

And with that the tears started.

The ringing in Do Good’s ears was gone. In its place, his heart

had started to pound. It sounded the way cowboy boots did on

the dance floor. How long had it been since he’d been out two-

stepping? It must have been just after his ex-wife, Stella, took

up with Buster Colt, back when Daddy Bush was still president.

Do Good patted the spot beside him on the cot. Glory plopped

down, took off her cap, and freed her two gray pony tails that fell

silently onto her shoulders. Do Good fished his handkerchief

from his pocket and handed it over.

“I like your pigtails,” Do Good said.

17

@ENTERTAINMENT

Page 20: Dreamy - September 2012

“I want to ask the question again,” Do Good said, as nervous as

he’d been in a very long time. “What’s for dinner, Glory?”

Glory laughed. “I don’t know.”

Do Good pulled out his wallet that was attached to his belt by

a silver chain. He’d had it since the days when he drove the

big rigs all across the U.S.A. Inside was a picture of his six kids,

sitting in front of a white Christmas tree, the year before Stella

left. He fumbled through the bill compartment until he found a

half-off coupon for two at the Good Enough Café. He unfolded

it, and then handed it over like an offering.

“Anything your heart desires, Glory,” he said. “Anything at all.

CONTEST ALERT!@Urban wants to see YOUR original short story and/or poem, for a chance to be published in our January, 2013 issue!

1. Visit AtUrbanMagazine.com, and click on the “Contest” tab.

2. Follow the instructions to enter.

3. Open to those 13 and older.

4. Deadline is Nov. 10, at midnight, CST.

Even better? Arvest Bank is sponsoring our writing contest. There’s cash to be had, writers, so get going!

“You do not,” Glory said, and her cheeks turned the color of

summer tomatoes.

“I do,” Do Good said.

“My ex-husband hated them,” Glory said.

“Not a smart man,” Do Good said, and he realized he was flirting.

“You come here to sleep?” Glory asked.

“Naw, just needed a turkey call.”

Glory kicked the phony campfire and the plastic flames jumped.

“I like my hat,” she said, and then began to rise from the

wobbly cot.

Do Good’s heart raced; he did not want her to go. He reached

out and took her hand.

“A fine hat,” Do Good said. “A perfectly fine hat. I meant no

harm. I’ve been feeling unwell of late – just the last hour or

so, nothing serious - and you startled me. Seeing your hat with

the name Jesus staring down at me made me wonder if I’d been

carried from this carnal abyss into the great beyond.” He smiled.

“And you do have the face of an angel.”

Glory stared at her hands, her brow furrowed. Do Good sat

perfectly still, waiting, like he did in the deer stands when a

buck was coming into his sights. Finally, Glory sighed. And then

she did something that amazed Do Good. She touched his

cheek, and the air turned warm around them.

18

@ENTERTAINMENT

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@story Tonya McCoy@images Brick Fields Music

20

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It’s nighttime in New Delhi Café in Eureka Springs, and a storm

has just rumbled past. The room fills with the bluesy voice of

Rachel Fields. Her eyes are closed, her face skyward, as she sings,

“Storms of wonder, rains that fall. Thunder heard, never seen, yet

called.” Her voice is Joss Stone meets Janice Joplin.

She opens her eyes and a stranger walks through the door

carrying a guitar. Rachel notices his smile. Her drummer knows

this guitar player and invites him on stage to play. It’s kismet.

The marriage of Larry Brick’s blues-folk acoustic licks combined

with Rachel’s soulful tones is meant to be.

“When he started strumming and picking, the songs came alive,”

says Rachel. After that evening Larry gave me his number and

said I should call him the next time I needed a guitar player.

I lost the number. It was a few months before I ran into him

again, got his number again, and lost it AGAIN! Time went by and

finally one day we crossed paths at the post office. This time I

grabbed a-hold of him and didn't let go.”

And it’s a good thing. Larry was on his way to Canada. He’d

taken a trip there a couple of years before on a creative hiatus,

spending time with friends, writing and composing music. But

after talking to Rachel, he decided to stay home.

“We immediately began writing songs together, making plans to

tour, playing music every day. Sometimes Larry will be playing

something on the guitar, and I’ll put some words to that. Or

sometimes I’ll get to going on my guitar and write a song that

needs some adjustment and he’ll come in and add the really

nice chorus to it. And I’ll play and we’ll put a bridge on it, or

chorus. We pretty much write all the songs together I’d say.”

Larry had learned to play music by ear from front porch picking

in the Delta of Arkansas, where he grew up. He went to college

at the U of A for business, but dropped out in 1975, deciding

to follow his love for music instead. He’s performed on and off

in bands and by himself since then, playing in the Florida Keys,

Nashville, and also with a gospel group in the ‘mega-churches’

of California.

Rachel played the flute for her high school band in Pine Bluff,

which she still incorporates into some of her music today. She

left her small town for the Big Apple and took voice lessons

and studied music and theater at The American Musical and

Dramatic Academy in New York. Her band, Big Folk even toured

with the Jerry Garcia Band (a tribute group) in 1998.

But the performance life for the newly formed duo in 2007,

wasn’t easy. At first they were playing whenever the stage was

free at the New Delhi Café. Sometimes they’d play from noon

‘til midnight for tips and food. Soon the owner saw they were

drawing a steady crowd, and that’s how they landed their first

gig. Before long the two were playing shows all over Arkansas,

Oklahoma, and Missouri.

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@ENTERTAINMENT

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“After we started spending time together, I noticed that he made

me laugh. He was and is very peaceful, wonderful to be around

and I found myself wanting to be with him all of the time and

missing him when he was away.”

One night after a show, Larry leaned over and kissed Rachel.

Somewhere between singing soul and writing love songs, the

two had fallen for each other.

“He just took my breath away. I was surprised. I didn’t see it

coming.” In a few months they said “I do,” in a front porch cabin

wedding in Eureka.

As soon as their wedding was over, they packed up their guitars

and headed to California. There they spent three months

playing street corners, subway stations, coffee houses, wineries

and resorts, before returning to Arkansas.

“It's like Rachel and I just fit together. Like we've been together

our whole lives. We are compatible… I first noticed that we

played music together really well; this does not happen to just

anyone. The music part has always been easy for us,” says Larry.

But it has NOT been easy for listeners to classify their music.

It’s been called blues, gospel, jazz, folk and roots. The guitar

provides both the blues and folk chords. Then there’s Rachel’s

soulful, roots vocals. Add a saxophone player for a touch of jazz.

Some gospel references in the lyrics. Stir in the fact they’ve

played everywhere from bars to churches, and you end up with

a lot of confused music critics. Confused but happy.

In fact, this genre-transcending duo has been praised for their

projects, which include a blues band, a gospel group, their

duo, and a quartet. The common force behind them all: Rachel

and Larry. The Brick Fields Blues Band won first place in the

Ozark Blues Society Challenge in 2010, Brick Fields Folk music

placed in the Ozark Folk Songwriters contest in 2011, and

the Nashville Blues Society says Brick Fields has "unleashed

cleansing for the soul."

Right now Brick Fields is a regional winner in the King of the

Roots competition. They are vying for a chance to play at the

‘Roots N Blues N BBQ’ festival this month in Columbia, Missouri,

which will headline Soul legend Al Green.

And they’ve just moved to Fayetteville, where they continue

to work from one project to another, song by song. They love

their life. They are a marriage filled with sound, working on a

sound marriage.

Curious about Brick Fields’ unique sound? Visit www.brickfieldsmusic.com and listen to continuous streaming music from their various projects. Plus you’ll find all the show times and dates. If you’re interested in booking Brick Fields call Teresa Herrell at 501-693-6271.

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Knock Out NeutralsDo you think neutral colors are boring? Well, think again. We’ve all seen lackluster spaces that pile taupe on top of taupe, and all too many builder beige model homes that have given neutrals a bad rap. Nevertheless, with the right combination, a neutral décor is anything but void of color and flair.

People often decorate with neutrals because they feel they are safe; however, without proper forethought and styling these spaces can actually look less impressive than those with too much color. The right mixture of neutrals makes for a chic and bold interior. So, to prevent your neutral color scheme from seeming flat and drab, you must incorporate the correct elements. Here are five tips that will allow you to create a luxurious space that is full of life.

Christine HowardCreative Director, I.O. Metro

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1 Maesta Pillow – Gray $79.952 Keyhole Mirror – Driftwood $799.953 Ballast Coffee Table – Driftwood $499.954 Ross Corner Sectional - Harry Granite & Cafe Noir $2,499.955 Knobby Loop Rug- Natural 5' x 8' $399.956 Antique Mirror Tray $99.957 Armillary Sphere $99.95

Let's Talk TonesTo design a room that is soothing, sophisticated and warm, you

must work with a large palette of neutral colors. Try integrating

browns, grays, beiges, black and white. And yes, black and brown,

and brown and gray, go very well together.

Contrast CountsNot only must you work with many shades, it’s important to layer

opposite colors next to, and on top of, each other to generate

contrast. This creates the important element of depth and

prevents a space from looking colorless. The best way to add a

dramatic neutral punch is with black and white.

Play with PatternThe most artfully arranged neutral shades will never truly pop

without the addition of a pattern. Mix and layer neutral toned

patterns to add interest and personality. Graphic pillows and

rugs will give you the most bang for your buck.

The Texture TierWhen all of your colors are in the same family, it’s critical to add

texture. Incorporate texture with rich fabrics, leather, metallics,

and organic items such as a jute rug or natural finished wood

furniture. Be sure to also insert interesting and differing shapes

so that everything doesn’t look monotonous.

Lighten UpGood lighting is critical for pulling the whole look together.

Neutrals never look their best in dim, poorly lit spaces. Utilizing

natural light and layering interior lighting with fixtures and

lamps will allow the underlying tones, contrasting colors, and

textures to play well with each other. Finally, mirrors are very

important to completing a neutral interior, as they reflect light

and open up the space.

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@story Marcus Coker@images courtesy Bill Brown Entertainment

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The sun is shining at the Arkansas Oklahoma State Fair, and

Dan Poor, who is fifty, is standing ninety-feet above the

ground on a platform the size of a record album. Below him, a

crowd has gathered close to a pool, craning their necks to see

what will happen. From Dan’s perspective, the pool, which is

twenty-four feet wide and nine-and-a-half feet deep, could be

covered with a half dollar, and Dan’s supposed to land in it. As

the crowd starts clapping, Dan raises his arms above his head

and prepares to jump.

Eighty-five feet below, the surface of the water is smooth. In

fact, it’s hard to tell the top of the pool from the bottom. So

other divers begin to splash the water, making the surface more

visible from up high. And then it happens. Dan somersaults

three times, does a half twist, and hits the water going fifty-five

miles an hour. “The shock of entering the water is comparable to

jumping off the top of a six-foot ladder and landing on concrete

without bending your knees,” says Dan. “If the landing’s not

perfectly vertical, the pain can be tremendous.”

The crowd is silent, waiting to see if Dan’s okay. In a few moments,

he emerges on the side of the pool, smiling and waving as if

the whole thing is no big deal. But it is. With each jump comes

danger. “I’m afraid every time,” says Dan, “but I keep coming

back because conquering that fear is an incredible feeling.”

Dan is part of a group of performers that travels worldwide

entertaining audiences like the ones at the Arkansas Oklahoma

State Fair. The group is called Bill Brown Entertainment and

includes trampolinists, tumblers, and divers. During this year’s

fair, which is September 21-29, the performers will put on a free

twenty-minute trampoline and diving show three times a day.

The show includes five divers and an announcer. They start on

a trampoline in front of the pool, flipping and twisting in the

air. First they go forward, then backwards. Some land on their

backs, others on their stomachs, bouncing high in the air and

doing handstands on the side of the pool before they come

back down.

Next are the dives into the pool, one, two, even five at a time.

Sometimes in costumes, the performers crawl along the diving

boards and climb the tower, bouncing or flying off into the

water. They crisscross each other in the air, and then appear

to land on their faces or backsides—anything for a laugh. “The

easier it looks, the harder it is,” says Bill Brown, owner of Bill

Brown Entertainment.

Most of the dives are from springboards that extend out across

the water, but several of them are from twelve-by-twelve inch

platforms about sixteen or thirty-three feet above the water.

“Thirty-three feet is as high as they go in the Olympics,” says Bill,

“We do many dives that you see in the Olympics, plus many others.

Some of ours are harder because they use two people or more.”

The divers continue until the show is over—twisting and

tucking in the air, sometimes holding onto each other as they

somersault into a pool no deeper than most ceilings are tall.

@PEOPLE

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When the show is over, they’re smiling and taking pictures with

the crowd.

Everyone—the crowd and the divers—seem to love it. Still, a

show like this isn’t without challenges. Tim, a twenty-one-year-

old gymnast from Michigan, has bruises all along his arms. He

says, “I’m used to landing with my arms out. Sometimes, when

diving, I forget to pull them in.”

Bill says, “He’s just new to diving. He can do a triple twisting

back somersault on the floor, no problem. But when you adapt it

to diving, you still have to fall nine or ten feet at the end of the

move.” Bill slaps his hand on the table and says, “When you’re

learning, the first few go like this.”

For Bill, who grew up as a diver, the bumps and bruises are

part of the gig. “A lot of us, like Dan and me, are old timers and

can do this in our sleep. But if you mess up, it can bite you. For

example, you have to learn how to lift your shoulders as you

enter the water so you slide across the pool. Once, a long time

ago, I messed up and broke my legs. I was on the bottom before

I knew I was wet.”

Now, at the age of fifty-seven, Bill still dives. “I have a little juice

left, so I dive when I feel like it. My body is fine, I just can’t do

as much at the speed as I used to.” That’s what’s inspiring about

Bill—he doesn’t let anything keep him from what he loves, at

least not something like age, or even cancer.

“In 1996, I was taking chemotherapy three times a week for

stage-four melanoma. We were performing in China, and I had

my shots with me. The doctor said I had a five percent chance

of living. But I didn’t slow down. We traveled to The Georgia

National Fair, and I tried to do a dive and landed flat on my face.

I had no energy. I was ignorant and didn’t want it to get the best

of me, so I just kept going.”

Sixteen years later, Bill’s okay, still travelling the globe with his

diving shows and giving people the time of their lives. “The

audiences are what keep us going. Sometimes they laugh;

sometimes they cry. We live for those moments.”

For more information, visit arkansasoklahomafair.com or billbrownentertainment.com.

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@story Marla Cantrell@images Ryan Goodman

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Ryan Goodman is tracking the extreme drought from his home

in Tennessee. He watches closely, the statistics that show

eighty percent of the Arkansas’ pastureland scorched beneath

the brutal sun, hay prices spiking, and estimates that the fallout

of historic drought could be as high as billions of dollars.

His interest is two-fold. As a twenty-three-year-old grad student

studying animal science, he’s studying the effects of the worst

drought Arkansas has seen in fifty years. And as the son of a

Searcy rancher and cattle auctioneer, he has a personal interest

in what’s unfolding here.

Ryan is stoic about the current condition. Ice

storms, floods, drought. The rancher’s life is

hinged with weather. But this summer has been

extraordinary. No rain, sweltering heat, no rain,

the cycle like a song set on repeat. And then

NOAA released word that in July the U.S. broke a

heat record that hadn’t been surpassed since the

Dust Bowl summer of 1936.

The weather is driving many of the ranchers who come to

his father’s Arkansas Cattle Auction in Searcy to sell their

stock. Two to three times as many cows have gone to market

as in a typical summer, and when they sell mature cows this

year, they’ll have fewer calves next year. The dilemma drew

the attention of CBS News. They came to see the weathered

ranchers pulling up in big trucks, their trailers filled with cattle

they wouldn’t otherwise be selling. The stories stung. A rancher

whose wife was too brokenhearted to attend, another rancher

from Oklahoma who was buying this year because his own herd

was hit by the crippling drought last year, a cattleman worried

because his stock pond is all but gone.

It’s hard for Ryan’s father, who is friends with many in the crowd.

He knows this year will mark the last for some of them, and

many of those dropping out will be the older cattlemen. In a

state where there are 49,300 farms and 1.7 million head of

cattle, it’s bound to have an impact.

When Ryan talks about his father, he grows nostalgic. He learned

at his father’s feet, trailing him in the pastures early after school,

driving a tractor to check cows when he was ten. His father is

a self-made man; he doesn’t come from a long line of cattle

owners, but when he landed a job managing a 3,500 acre ranch

in Searcy, raising Angus cattle, he knew he was

where he was supposed to be.

“I love the lifestyle, working with the land,” Ryan

says. “The animals depend on us for everything.

Growing up, my holidays were spent taking care

of cattle. I was the oldest of five, and on Christmas,

we’d either get up early and open gifts or we’d be

up at the break of dawn feeding cattle, so we could

get to the grandparents’ house to eat dinner.

“I learned life lessons like leadership and responsibility. I

realized, going through college, that there are people out there

who don’t have the appreciation for work and responsibility

that I had the blessing to learn, growing up on a farm. Less than

two percent of the country is directly involved with farming

or ranching. I think we’ve become spoiled. We can go up to

Walmart and buy our food, and we don’t really know where it

comes from. I think we’ve lost our connection with the farmers

and ranchers, and we don’t understand the hard work that it

takes to get that food to your table. If I could do one thing, it

would be to encourage people to go out and meet their farmers,

@PEOPLE

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to talk to them when you go out to fall festivals or farmers

markets. Get to know what they do, ask for a tour of a farm.

Start making that connection.”

Ryan has spent his whole life making the connection. While

attending Oklahoma State University, he worked summers at

places like the Texas feed yards, where he helped bring food to

60,000 head of cattle. It took a million pounds of feed to get

the job done each day, which came from the feed mill on site.

He also worked at a ranch in the Big Horn Mountains of

Wyoming, a place he still loves. While he was there, he started

to blog, sharing his experiences with friends and family and

city folks who were fascinated to follow a young cowboy on his

great adventure.

When he’s finished with his graduate degree at the University

of Tennessee, Ryan plans to work in several parts of the country,

learning different farming techniques. But he’ll probably end up

back home in Arkansas one day. His roots run deep. And he

likes working with his father. He calls his life blessed.

Watching the effects of the drought has been hard. He knows

the weather is forcing many good people out. “More of our

land is being sold to those wanting to build houses, so land

competition is high. Ranchers, particularly the smaller farmers

with fewer resources, facing this drought, may give up and sell

everything for development. That could take a big toll on the

numbers of cows we have.”

Even so, Ryan isn’t pessimistic. “We’ll continue to have cattle,”

he says. “It’s too big a part of our economy not to.”

So he looks ahead. “If the spring rains come,” he says, “and the

grass grows green, things will pick up.” And then he turns the

story back to his father, a man he says devotes his life to helping

the cattlemen around him. “My dad will work really hard to help

the ranchers buy back cattle to rebuild their stock. He is always

giving back, offering ranchers advice on feed, just supporting

those around him.”

It’s all you can do at times like these. Hope for the best.

Next year could be better. The rains could fall and the fields

overflow with hay. It’s a rancher’s right to imagine it. Let’s just

hope he’s right.

You can follow Ryan on his blog, agricultureproud.com

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@story Marla Cantrell@images Mark Mundorff

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Artist Rae Russell lives on a little piece of paradise in

Fayetteville. On sweltering afternoons, she takes a break

and swims in the creek that flows behind her house. In the

mornings, she heads to her studio, the one her husband gave

her as an anniversary present, where she paints portraits of

people and dogs, and works on projects that involve found

pieces like steer skulls and bits of tree branches.

But lately her life has revolved around a sky-blue fiberglass

sculpture Rae calls Mr. Pig. Rae’s spent hours lying on her back,

acrylic paints beside her, painting Mr. Pig’s underbelly, her dogs

romping close by, so that the whole procedure looked like

something from a sitcom.

Rae knows that the exposure she’s getting from working on one

of twenty-five pigs for the Ozark Literacy Council’s PIGShibition

fundraiser, is widespread. Today, she’s doing her final work on

Mr. Pig, who will go to his permanent home at the Clinton House

in a few days. There’s no telling how many people will see him

there, and from seeing him, they’ll discover who Rae is.

Wendy Poole, director of the Ozark Literacy Council, says

promoting the artist community was one of the things they

wanted to accomplish. The non-profit teamed up with the

Fayetteville Advertising and Promotions Commission to get

things moving. When 151 artists turned in submissions for the

project, they knew they were on the right track. Narrowing the

field to twenty-five was hard, but necessary.

And now that the pigs are showing up around town – the Arvest

pig was the first to show up downtown – momentum is building.

The money that’s being raised will help fund the school where

300 show up to learn at the hands of 60 volunteers.

“Literacy is dismal in Arkansas,” Wendy says. “One out of

five adults reads below a fifth grade level. That’s including

immigrants and native speakers.”

The Ozark Literacy Council is intent on improving that number,

working with everyone from those needing a G.E.D. to those

who come here from other countries, including many whose

spouses are attending the University of Arkansas.

To provide the services, the group needs money. Enter the pigs.

Sponsors who pay the full $6,000 will get to keep their one-of-

a-kind swine. Those paying $3,000 will have to give them back

in March of 2013, where they’ll be auctioned off. It may sound

like a lot of money, but there is a lot of expense in the project.

The artists will be paid an honorary $500. And then there are

costs for materials and design work to produce twenty-five

fiberglass pigs that stand almost six feet tall.

Rae, who’s Mr. Pig is sponsored by the A&P, loved working on

the project. She points to some of the landmarks she painted:

Drake Field Air Museum, Mt. Sequoyah, Ella’s Restaurant at

Carnall Hall on the U of A campus, KUAF, George’s Majestic

Lounge on Dickson. The buildings are nestled in the branches

of a tree that start out at Mr. Pig’s back legs, where the trunk

rises across his hind side.

“I saw all these bumps and curves and I thought that would

make great tree trunk branches, and then I decided to nestle

the buildings inside the branches,” Rae says. “I kept adding

more buildings and ideas. I wanted to show the bounty of

Fayetteville. We have all these beautiful buildings, and they’re

all used. I wanted to represent why we come together – for art,

for sports, for learning. The hardest part was drawing straight

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lines on the curved surfaces.”

Mr. Pig, who’s 5’7” and weighs 75 pounds (without his steel

base), looks impressive, but he’s not finished yet. When he

leaves Rae’s house, before he’s taken to the Clinton House, he’ll

stop by a body shop where he’ll be given a clear finish that will

protect him from the elements.

Rae likes the idea of stopping by to see him, to watch how the

tourists react, when they come to see where Bill and Hillary

lived once upon a time.

She feels fortunate to be one of those chosen for the project.

And she knows she’s lucky to make a living as an artist. “The

only reason I have the opportunity to create is because of my

loving husband, amazing kids, and parents, sisters and friends

who rally around me,” she says.

The path she’s on started when she was a student at the

University of Arkansas – Fort Smith, where she served as a

model for the art students. Soon just modeling wasn’t enough,

so she started taking classes as well.

Her mother encouraged her, letting her paint murals on the

walls inside the family’s home. “When she put the house on the

market, a man who came through to look at the house tried to

open a french door I’d painted on a wall, so I think I must have

done okay.”

Ten years ago Rae moved to Fayetteville. She made

connections with other artists, and she started to sell more and

more work. The Great Recession of 2008 hit her hard, since

art wasn’t something people had to buy. But slowly things

picked up. Crystal Bridges, the Walton-sponsored art museum

in Bentonville, is helping grow the art market in the area, she

believes, and when projects like PIGShibition come around,

everybody wins.

Art and literacy are great partners, Rae thinks. Both improve the

world. Both leave the world with a richer legacy. Working with

a pig during the dog days of summer was just icing on the cake.

Yes, Rae says, life is very, very good.

To see more of Rae’s work, visit raerussell.com. For more on the Ozark Literacy Council, visit ozarkliteracy.org

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@PEOPLE

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Sponsored by Cheers Liquor4000 Rogers Ave., Fort Smith

479.782.9463Cheers of Fort Smith

1.5 oz. Don Julio Reposado Tequila 6 dash Tobasco 6 dash Worcestershire Sauce 1 pinch Celery Salt 1 pinch Pepper 1 teaspoon Horseradish 2 teaspoon Lemon Juice 7 oz. Tomato Juice

Rim an old fashioned glass with lemon juice and lightly dip into black pepper. Fill glass with ice, add all ingredients and stir. Garnish with thin strips of celery.

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@TASTE

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@recipe and images Laura Hobbs

I’m reading this wonderful book called

A Homemade Life, by Molly Wizenberg. Molly writes the über-

popular food blog Orangette and is one of those lucky few

food writers whose work became so celebrated that she got a

book deal. Molly’s book is a delightful mix of vignettes paired

with wonderful corresponding recipes. I often find myself

thinking, I couldn’t have said it any better!, or Wow, you’re so

cool, or Can we be friends?

I came across a story in Molly’s book that struck a nerve. It was

about secret recipes, and her utter disdain for such a thing.

Molly says the idea of a secret recipe “Is sort of ridiculous...

Recipes were made to be shared. That’s how they improve,

how they change, how new ideas are formed and older ones

made ripe. The way I see it,” she says, “sharing a recipe is how

you pay back fate... for bringing you something so tasty in the

first place. To stop a recipe in its tracks, to label it a secret, just

seems mean.” Ouch.

This made me reevaluate my death grip on my own secret

recipe for coconut macaroons. I would oblige to make them

for anyone who asked, but I wasn’t about to share the recipe

itself, for fear of people discovering the simplicity and ease

of the recipe, leaving the mystery of Laura and her Amazing

Coconut Macaroons on the shelf to gather dust. Selfish? Yes.

Arrogant? A little. Desperate? Well, this is just embarrassing.

So here we are. I made a decision; I’m ready to spill. And while

I don’t remember quite where my coconut macaroon recipe

came from, I do know that I have perfected it over the years,

and can probably make them with my eyes closed. For those

who are familiar with these macaroons, you are going to be

incensed as to how simple they are. There are four main

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Preheat the oven to 325°. In a large bowl, mix the coconut, sweetened condensed milk and vanilla together until well-combined. In the bowl of a standing mixer or using a hand mixer, beat the egg whites and salt at high speed until medium peaks form, about a minute and a half. Gently fold the egg whites into the coconut mixture.

Using an ice cream scoop, place the macaroons on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or a silicone pad. Bake for 30 minutes, rotating the pan half way through. Remove from the oven and cool completely on a wire rack. (If you want to remove the puddles, this is where you do it.)

Melt the chocolate in a bowl in the microwave, 20 seconds at a time and stirring in between, until completely melted and smooth. Dip each macaroon in the chocolate and place on another piece of parchment paper or a silicone pad. Place in the fridge for about 30 minutes until the chocolate hardens.

Store at room temperature for up to 3 days. Store in the fridge for up to a week.

1 (14 oz.) bag of sweetened shredded coconut

1 can sweetened condensed milk

1/2 tsp. vanilla

2 egg whites

pinch of salt

8 oz. milk or dark chocolate

(Makes 12)

ingredients: coconut, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla and

egg whites, all folded together into a sticky, fluffy mess. I’m a

big believer in the “bigger is better” doctrine here: I use an ice

cream scoop to make monstrously fluffy mounds on a parchment

covered baking sheet before I throw them in the oven.

There is one little issue that I’d like to address before I leave

you to your devices: macaroon puddles. Yes, I said macaroon

puddles. Some of the egg whites have a tendency to puddle

out of the cookie and onto the parchment paper, creating a

brown, melty looking puddle ring around the bottom of the

macaroon. While the puddle is delicious, they’re unsightly; I

tear my puddles off, leaving them in a plastic bag for munching.

You’re welcome to leave your puddles on, or tear them off. It’s

like the over-versus-under toilet paper roll - to each his own.

I’d like to reiterate what a momentous occasion this is; I’m

sharing something that I protected with a selfish ferocity for the

past ten years. It’s time to let go. It’s time to share. It’s time

to get over myself. Without further ado, I give you Chocolate

Dipped Coconut Macaroons. Enjoy!

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Ingredients purchased at Ozark Natural Foods,Your Community Market.

Find out in the @Urban food blog.AtUrbanMagazine.com/blogs/dish

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@story Marla Cantrell@images Saidee Holmes

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The road to the Arkansas House in Jasper weaves past

ancient barns and general stores where the only alarm

systems are the bells that sound when you walk through the

screen doors. At the top of the rise, cars are pulling over to see

the Arkansas Grand Canyon. It’s a staggering view, little puffs

of clouds above, the trees so far below it’s not clear if they’re

oak or pine.

The owners of the Arkansas House and Boardwalk Café, Joseph

and Janet Morgan, wait at the end of the line, ready to talk about

the beauty of this area, and why they traded a life in The Big

Easy for the easy life in Jasper.

“I love New Orleans, and I go back often,” Joseph says. “But I’m

here, really, because of my love of whitewater rafting. In the

1970s I was flying here and there, just to raft, and one day in the

airport a fellow asked me why I wasn’t rafting the Class 5 river

in the Deep South. I didn’t know about the Buffalo until then. I

drove here – it was still a wilderness really – and the river was at

flood stage. It was wonderful. It only took twenty minutes to go

six miles because the river was flowing so fast.”

Eventually, they moved to Jasper. Janet retired for three years.

She found herself stopping again and again by a boarded up

building just off the town square. “I was just drawn to it, and

one day in March of ’06, when Joseph was off getting hay, I

called him and said, ‘Guess what? I just bought the Arkansas

House.’ We opened the doors in April of ’07.”

The old building is impressive. The exterior walls are handmade

cement blocks set with river rock, as careful as if a jeweler had

made them. Gould Jones, a master mason who spent most of

his eighty-five years in Newton County, is responsible for the

design. But the signature of this building is Gould’s stone map

of Arkansas outlined in wavy metal and set into the façade at

the pinnacle of the two-story inn in 1934, a proud reminder of

our Natural State.

Today, the glory of the Arkansas House starts in The Boardwalk

Café where Janet cooks organic food. Elk, buffalo, wild

razorback, it’s all on the menu. How difficult is it to get organic

food in a town of 458? Not hard at all. Joseph has a farm not

far away, where he raises cattle, grows organic vegetables, and

even has a beekeeper who supplies the café with honey. He’s

found thirty other organic farmers who keep the restaurant

stocked. The exotic meat comes from a farmer just twenty-five

miles away.

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As I’m trying the elk burger - something I never thought I’d

be saying - a regular stops by the table. He has a take-out

container with him. He’s just had lunch and he’s taking home

another meal that he’ll eat for supper.

Joseph shakes his hand. “This guy,” he says, “is our walking

testimonial. He’s probably eaten 2,000 meals with us.”

The elk burger is so good I taste the buffalo burger. Equally

as good. I try the potato salad, the best I’ve

ever had, and before the trip ends, I’ll add wild

razorback to the list of foods I’ve never eaten

before. It’s all so good, I don’t know what to

recommend, except to say get the black walnut

pie. I would have paid good money for the

recipe, but Janet, she’s not talking. She says

it’s all in the ingredients. Fresh equals success,

she says, but there’s more to it than that.

Back in the room, I click on the TV to check

the weather. The temperature here is twenty

degrees cooler than when I left Fort Smith. There is an antique

dresser, a four-poster bed, an antique rocker, and a sitting room

big enough for a small cocktail party. Just outside my door is a

meditation garden, four more suites, a cabin, and a hair salon.

I don’t stay inside long. This is the land of the Buffalo River,

the 135-mile free flowing wonder of a river, a place that draws

1.5 million visitors a year, who fish, go caving, canoe, and hike.

My first stop is Steel Creek, just minutes away. It is a gorgeous

place, bluffs rising to the sky, the water – low from the drought

– still rippling across the smooth rocks. I’m ankle-deep in and

fish skitter at my feet. Two hawks swoop so low above me that I

can hear their wings. They sound the way a bicycle wheel does

when you attach a slip of cardboard to the spokes and then

peddle as fast as you can.

Another reason to come here are the elk. In September they

start their rut season. These massive animals, some weighing

as much as 900 pounds, gather in the fields and meadows all

across this area. The males call out, they bugle to the females,

their voices bassooning through the air. All along the roadways,

cars pull over and the curious step out, hovering

as close as they dare, to watch the mating ritual.

Joseph can’t wait to see it again. And after that

comes autumn. “Fall,” he says, “that’s what we

call glory days. When the leaves are turning and

the river’s flowing, and you can float down this

masterpiece of a river. It’s second only to the

snowy, moon-filled nights. It’s so surreal. You float

under the boughs of the trees in the river, flocked

with snow, and just your passage drops a little

snow on you.”

He is in love with this place he calls home. “I live here, at the top

of the world,” he says. “I can see the Smokies and the Rockies. I

can see the Arkansas and the Buffalo. It is heaven here, in this

place, and I can assure you it is not lost on me.”

For more on the Arkansas House and the Boardwalk Café, visit thearkhouse.com.

For more on the region, visit buffaloriveronline.com

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Page 51: Dreamy - September 2012
Page 52: Dreamy - September 2012

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