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AtU

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Magaz

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Waiting

Up Close & Personal

Scrub A Dub Dub

Ignite: Maddie on Things

Greek to Me

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8

12

16

20

Urban 8

Music from the Back Road

Alabama Shakes

The Burgess Boys

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A Life Better Than Miss America’s

School’s Out Forever

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Bake Me A Cupcake Winner

I Dream of Spaghetti

The Grown Up Shake

River City Deli

46485254

Sandstone Gardens

Fiction: Swamptown

and Mudtown and Mama

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featuringlif

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EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Catherine Frederick

MANAGING EDITOR

Marla Cantrell

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Jennifer Canada

Marla Cantrell

Marcus Coker

Jacob Cooper

Catherine Frederick

Shannon Hensley

Stacey Little

Tonya McCoy

Anita Paddock

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Catherine Frederick

Mark Mundorff

DESIGNER

Jeromy Price

WEB GURU

David Jamell

PUBLISHER

Read Chair Publishing, LLC

FOLLOW US

ADVERTISING INFORMATIONCatherine Frederick479 / 782 / 1500Catherine@AtUrbanMagazine.com

EDITORIAL INFORMATIONMarla Cantrell479 / 831 / 9116Marla@AtUrbanMagazine.com

©2013 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.

To reserve this free space for your charitable non-profit organization, email: Editors@AtUrbanMagazine.com

Finally spring has sprung, let’s just hope she decides to

stick around for a while. A couple of weeks ago I prepared

my garden soil, and last weekend I welcomed my first

transplants to their new home. Cucumber, squash, zucchini,

cherry tomatoes and a couple of pepper plants. Before long,

okra will move in.

I’m just thrilled to spend time outdoors; it makes me smile.

Could have something to do with our three week kitchen

remodel that, as of this writing, has entered its seventh week.

And who could smile at that? Good thing the outdoors is my

happy place.

In addition to gardening, my family and I are adjusting to our

new life, otherwise known as church league baseball. Ball

season is in full swing, and the sun is out in full force, so we’re

stocking up on sunflower seeds and sunscreen. I’m going to

work on being a little quieter in the stands this season. I’ll let

you know how that goes.

But, enough about me, in this month’s issue, we’re daring you

not to smile when you meet Maddie, a coonhound rescued by

a Southern guy named Theron, who saw Maddie’s photo on

Petfinder™ and fell in love. What happened next turned into a

book of photos like nothing we’ve ever seen.

We’re introducing you to a woman from Paragould who defied

the dire prediction of her doctor when she was in her twenties

and went on to live a life her children, grandchildren and great

grandchildren say is nothing short of miraculous. We’re taking

you on a drive to Missouri to show you what happens when two

people meet, fall in love, and then decide that together they can

accomplish just about anything.

We’re also announcing the winner of our Bake Me a (Cup) cake

contest, and unveiling her mouthwatering recipe. Our food writer

is cooking up a batch of baked spaghetti that will make you eager

to get back in the kitchen. Not in the mood to cook? Head out to

River City Deli in Fort Smith for a meal so good you’ll be planning

your next trip back before you’ve even had dessert.

All this, plus our DIY on making your own bath scrubs with

ingredients you can get at the grocery store. It’s a great gift

idea for your mom or one of your dearest friends! Need

a suggestion on a great book? Got it. Need a little music to

listen to on your next road trip? We have that too. So dig in

Urbanites. Wait just a minute! Speaking of all this food and

digging in, and as I have no kitchen, I’ve got just one question

for you: What’s cookin’ for dinner?

photo by Kat Hardin

letter from Catherine | 5

You said you knew the first moment you held me in your arms…you had been waiting

I keep waiting for you mommy…Hands smoothing every wrinkle deliberate and loving handsPatient hands that slipped Gordion knots adjusted, sewed,Easter egg hands, life-saver, hard working handsHands holding my hand, holding my face, braiding my hair, rubbing my back.

You said you knew the first moment you held me in your arms…you had been waiting

I keep waiting for you mommy…High pitched cackle on the phone, off-key singing, tiny different drummer beating a cacophony Of love. “Let’s play cards!” “Tell me all about your day. I want to hear what’s new.”

You said you knew the first moment you held me in your arms…you had been waiting

I keep waiting for you mommy…Black and orange and red and green Santa, hearts and, HalloweenDecorating just for us, presents hidden all in funCandles in the window glow, saving treasures only you could know but alwaysSharing, giving freely, freely giving of yourself.

You said you knew the first moment you held me in your arms…you had been waiting I will always wait for you mommy…Blooming life, life waiting to bloom, blooms taken far too soonBegonias, tulips, star-gazer lilies, elephant ears, and grassesPeople too, you picked and grewLovingly tending, always tenderly loving, cultivating, waiting for…me.

@lines Jennifer Canada

lifestyle | 7

Words to Live ByWhatever you are, be a good one.

What’s the one thing you want our readers to know about Creative Kitchen?Everyone has to eat; I believe everyone should eat

well. We have the kitchen tools to help those who

want to cook from scratch. We have gourmet foods

and sauces to help in cooking process, and we also

have a great selection of Creative Kitchen made

entrees, special occasion cakes, cupcakes, cookies

and brownies. We’re the place where you get your

birthday card, cake and candles, your gift and dinner,

all in one store!

309 Garrison Ave, Fort Smith479.646.3233

creativekitchenstore.com

Q&A with JamiLast movie you saw: I don’t get to the movies very often but I do enjoy live performances, anything from the Northside Follies to Wicked on

Broadway! What do you love about your job: I love that it doesn’t feel like a job. I’m surrounded by sweet customers and some of the most

creative and talented people in town. I love that we get to help people celebrate life! What do you love about the South: The tea is sweet

Favorite Vacation Spot: NYC! Anytime of the year. I love the smells, the excitement and the direct flight from XNA that gets me there before

noon! Where were you born: Fort Smith Favorite indulgence: Chocolate cake with peanut butter icing! Last road trip: Kansas City for a dance

competition for my daughter. Cornbread – sugar or no: However my mother-in-law makes it! What would you be doing if you were not a business owner:

I’d be looking for a business to own! Whose autograph would you love to have: Anything signed by my children when they were little. Strangest

place you’ve called the Hogs: Pike’s Peak Perfect meal: The perfect meal is not so much about what is on the table, but who is around the table.

The perfect meal is any meal with my family!

Jami ColemanCreative Kitchen

8 | UPCLOSE&PERSONAL

Fort Smith / Van Buren / Greenwood 479.484.5588

chuckfawcettrealty.com

Words to Live ByBe a giver not a taker.

What’s the one thing you want our readers to know about Chuck Fawcett Realty?We love working with everyone from first time buyers

to repeat customers, helping them find the perfect

house for them. Our number one concern is customer

service, and it’s what’s helped us grow during in the

twenty years we’ve been serving Western Arkansas

and Eastern Oklahoma.

Q&A with ChuckLast movie you saw: Skyfall Best thing about your job: Helping people find that perfect home. What do you love about the South: I love the South because

of the food and hospitality. Where were you born: Fort Smith Favorite vacation spot: Sausalito, California. At night the skyline reflecting on the

water is just beautiful. Guilty pleasure food: A strawberry shake Last book you read: Private Berlin by James Patterson Last road trip: New Orleans

Favorite singers: Rolling Stones, Eagles, and Adele Cornbread – sugar or no: Lots of sugar and butter What would you be doing if you weren’t in Real Estate:

Teaching or snow skiing Whose autograph would you most like to have: Coach Bielema Where’s the strangest place you’ve called the Hogs: In a restaurant

in New Orleans Perfect meal: Steak, potatoes, salad.

Chuck FawcettChuck Fawcett Realty

UPCLOSE&PERSONAL | 9

will you take me home?

Charleston Dog Shelter

Visit us on Facebook at The Charleston Dog Shelter for more pictures and

complete descriptions of all our lovable dogs. If you’re ready to meet your new

best friend, call for an appointment today.

Charleston Dog Shelter | Charleston, AR 72933 | 479.965.3591 | Find us on Petfinder™ |

Donations are always needed and greatly appreciated.

AllieFemale – Purebread Beagle

Little AnnFemale – Rhodesian Ridgeback

AspenFemale – Lab Mix

OliveFemale – Basset / Beagle Mix

DanMale – Red Bone Hound

PonchoMale – Pit Bull

10 | lifestyle

We’re busy getting things ready for spring. Spring cleaning,

planting our gardens and our flower beds. But what about

getting our skin ready? Winter took its toll, drying out our

skin and leaving it scratchy and flaky. So what better than luxurious

scrubs to pamper your hands, and get your feet in sandal ready shape?

We love that these can be whipped up using simple ingredients from the

grocery store. We also love to give these as gifts! Select and personalize

a container of your liking (they come in a variety of shapes and sizes).

Include a wooden spoon for measuring out the scrub. Include directions

for those lucky people on your gift list.

* Containers and wooden spoons purchased at Hobby Lobby. Each recipe makes approximately 1 ½ - 2 cups. For best results, mix ingredients the day before giving. Shelf life of each scrub varies based on ingredients.

scrub a dub dub@DIY & Images Catherine Frederick

12 | lifestyle

In medium bowl, mix together sugars, cocoa powder, and ground coffee. Stir to combine. Add coconut oil, honey and mint extract. Stir until combined and sugars are coated thoroughly. Fill container, leaving ¼” of space at the top.

{ Mocha Mint }

Ingredients

Directions

½ cup coconut oil

½ cup white sugar

½ cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon honey

1 tablespoon cocoa powder

1 teaspoons mint extract (more if desired)

2 tablespoons ground coffee

Place sugar in a medium bowl. Add olive oil, honey, vanilla extract, and orange juice. Stir to combine. Set aside. Zest the orange. Add the zest to the sugar mixture. Stir until combined and sugar is coated thoroughly. Fill container, leaving ¼” of space at the top.

{ Orange Bliss }

Ingredients

Directions

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons honey

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

Zest from 1 orange (regular sized)

Juice from ½ an orange

lifestyle | 13

Place sea salt in a medium bowl. Add olive oil, and honey. Stir to combine. Set aside. Zest the orange, grapefruit and lemon. Add the zest to the salt mixture. Stir until combined and salt is coated thoroughly. Fill container, leaving ¼” of space at the top.

{ Sunshine & Happiness }

Ingredients

Directions

1 cup sea salt

1/3 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons honey

Zest of one orange, one grapefruit,

and one lemon

There you have it, four recipes we think you’ll love. Better still? We’ve just solved your gift giving

dilemma, because who doesn’t love a little pampering?

In a medium bowl, mix together sugar and shredded coconut. Stir to combine, set aside. Zest three limes, keeping one lime for the juice. Add the coconut oil, lime zest, lime juice, and corn syrup to the sugar mixture. Stir until combined and sugar is coated thoroughly. Fill container, leaving ¼” of space at the top.

{ Island Breeze }

Ingredients

Directions

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup coconut oil

2 tablespoons corn syrup

1/3 cup shredded coconut

Zest from 3 limes

Juice from 1 lime

14 | lifestyle

on thingsmaddie

Each month in our Ignite series we bring you stories we hope will inspire you, give you new ideas, and bring you inside the lives of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

@story Marla Cantrell@images from Maddie on Things byTheron Humphrey, published by Chronicle Books

16 | lifestyle

friend to go with him. So he logged on to Petfinder™. “I wanted

a Southern dog, and Maddie, who was in Cobb County, Georgia,

was the first one to pop up. I clicked on her picture and thought,

Oh man, she looks like a deer.”

Turns out, looking like a deer is a pretty good thing. Theron went

to the shelter, met Maddie, who was about a year old, and took

her home. What he learned that day was that she was a quirky

dog who liked two things: climbing, and standing still as a statue

with her head down. “She looked like Eeyore,” Theron says.

He figured having Maddie along would help warm folks up

when he hit the road in 2011 to ask random people to share

their stories. He was right. The stories he recorded – one

from a 101-year-old woman – sound as if they’re

being told to an old friend. The reason may

be this: Theron believed people needed to

tell their stories as much as he needed to

hear them.

“If somebody walked up to you and said,

‘Man, tell me about your grandparents.

What was their house like?’ it would

mean something. “These are the things

that define our lives. We don’t tell the

story of it very often. We tell the stories of

graduation, celebrations. But what about the

things in between? I just became emerged in it, like

telling the story of people brushing their teeth in the morning

as opposed to high school graduation.”

Not that it was always easy to ask. “Every time I photographed

someone from that project, I swallowed my stomach, in a really

good way,” Theron says. “I think when you’re doing something

difficult you might be doing something good. You’re near the

edge. When you’re doing something easy you’re near the

middle and not pushing yourself at all. You have to be willing to

hear ‘no’. We don’t like being that vulnerable.”

A pattern emerged. When people were doing singular work like

raking leaves, they were already caught up in remembering, and

Theron Humphrey sits in his Toyota pickup in Georgia

with his coonhound Maddie at his side. The two know

this truck better than any other place on earth, since

it’s where they spent long days and longer nights inside its cab,

traveling the country on a project called This Wild Idea. That

journey spanned an entire year, covered more than 66,500

miles, and resulted in a photo and audio collection chronicling

the lives of 365 everyday Americans.

What Maddie doesn’t know on this fine April morning is that

she and Theron would never have met if it hadn’t been for the

project. And Theron might never have created This Wild Idea if

his grandfather had not passed away.

But he did die, in 2010. Before that, when there was

still time, though certainly not enough, Theron

returned to his childhood home in North

Carolina. He spent days on his grandfather’s

farm, hearing his stories, so carefully told,

so full of detail. And he was able to take

his grandfather’s last portrait, something

that means the world to him today.

The end of his grandfather’s life made

him examine his own. Still in his twenties,

he’d accomplished plenty. He’d graduated

from the Savannah School of Art and Design. He’d

gotten a job in the fashion industry. But what he decided

in those introspective days was that none of it was enough.

“A broken heart is a great catalyst to do something different,”

Theron says. “I didn’t want to be sixty and say, ‘Here’s a portfolio

of me in the studio with handbags.’ I wanted to create something

beautiful. I saw a void in the world. I wanted to point my camera

at folks in the world and tell their stories. It was so natural; it

didn’t feel like a huge risk.”

And so he changed direction, setting up a Kickstarter.com

account to find money for This Wild Idea and the travel it would

take to make it happen. He asked donors for $15,000 and ended

up with $15,900. Still, something was missing. He needed a

lifestyle | 17

that made them more receptive. Theron would spend hours with

them, take photos of them of course, but also of dish drainers,

cluttered bathroom counters, and recliners kicked back in the

living room, to capture what life is really like for most of us.

In between shoots he took even more photos of Maddie. That

ability she had of standing perfectly still? That came in handy

on a day when Theron lifted her onto the roof of his truck and

took her picture.

And so he kept shooting photos, all across the U.S., with Maddie,

a natural at balancing and patience, perching atop a ‘No Hunting’

sign, sitting atop a stack of suitcases, gazing out from atop an

old gas pump in Sparkman, Arkansas.

When the year ended, the two weary travelers came home.

Theron had gathered a following along the way, through his

website and Instagram, and not too long after, Chronicle Books

struck a deal with him. Not for his This Wild Idea photos, but for

those of Maddie. The book, Maddie on Things: A Super Serious

Project About Dogs and Physics, was published in April.

In March of this year, the two headed out again, in the same

Toyota pickup. They are on another mission, this one a little

closer to Maddie’s heart. Why We Rescue works on the same

premise as This Wild Idea, only Theron’s focus is now on people

who take in pets from shelters and how it transforms their lives.

In June Theron will turn thirty. He talks about the milestone,

about what it means to leave behind his twenties. The road, he

knows, will one day grow too long even for him and he will have

to put down roots. But that time is not now.

Tomorrow he will be sitting in a diner, drinking his first cup of

coffee for the day. His sleeve tattoo will cause a few curious

looks between the old men in the corner. Theron will rub his

beard and adjust his cap, and someone will notice him and

start up a conversation. Someone will want to share a story. It

happens all the time. And nearby will be Maddie, with a story all

her own, one that grows sweeter with every passing day.

To follow Theron’s Why We Rescue

schedule and book tour and learn

more about This Wild Idea, visit

maddieontour.com. Maddie on

Things sells for $15.95 and is

available at chroniclebooks.com

and several other locations.

18 | lifestyle

If you’re searching for modern style with

traditional roots, you’ve found your match in

Greek Key. The pattern is generally defined

as “a decorative border constructed from a

continuous line, shaped into a repeated motif.”

For centuries this simple, geometric pattern

has been used on everything from temples and

pottery in ancient Greece, to pillows and furniture

today. We love the practice of blending the old

with the new and making something ancient feel

very modern. The stately and bold pattern is a hot

trend, but as you’ve gathered from its rich history,

it has major staying power!

Christine HowardCreative Director, I.O. Metro

20 | lifestyle

1 Bree Corner Sectional $1999.95

2 Rusted Turquoise (Canvas Art) $499.95

3 Grady Chair $699.95

4 Lawson Ottoman $499.95

5 Christine Media Console $999.95

1

2

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lifestyle | 21

BrickCity Emporium | 3215 South 74th Street, Fort Smith | 479.434.5858 | brickcityemporium.com

Sharum Garden Center | 10000 Highway 71 South | Fort Smith | 479.649.0662 | Sharums.com

Square French Wall Basket $59.99

Party Cup in Pink Camo $12 Bottle Cap Handbag $49 Turquoise Sequin Boots $114.99

Hunt This! Dandelion Honey Glitzy Chix

Large Moss Purse $12.99 (variety of sizes available)1

1 2 3

2

1

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3

2

Sharum’s Garden Center

BrickCity Emporium

22 | SHOPLOCAL

Johnston’s Quality Flowers | 1111 Garrison Avenue Fort Smith | 479.783.5146 | qualityflowers.net

MediSav Pharmacy Gift Shop | 8820 Rogers Ave. Fort Smith | 479.452.0278 | medisav.com

These stunning arrangements feature purple delphinium, green gladiolus, purple asters, green mini hydrangeas, curly willow and lily grass. Priced from $40 - $125

Metal Painted Frame $34.95 Rustic “Spoon and Fork” Cookbook /Plate Holder $12.99

Arkansas Razorback Watch with Crystal Embellished Face $34.99

1 23

1 2 3

Johnston’s Quality Flowers

MediSav Pharmacy Gift Shop

SHOPLOCAL | 23

Saddlebock Mountain Bike Festival

May 3 – 5 // Adults $20 per day (12 and Under FREE)

Bring the family and the mountain bikes for a fun filled weekend. Enjoy camping, dinner and bluegrass music. Events include 1-on-1 racing all weekend as well as 16, 22 or 50 mile dirt road loops. There’ll also be guided hikes for youth and adults. Event will take place at Hazel Valley Ranch in Fayetteville.

Fayetteville, AR // 479.301.5268 // arkansasoutside.com1A Night in the Caribbean

Coming Home to the Mountain

Old Timer’s Days Arts & Crafts Fair

Saturday, May 4 // 6PM–11PM // $60 Admission

Saturday, May 4 // 7PM–9PM // $10 (12 and Under FREE)

May 10 – 12 // All Day Event // $FREE

Take part in the 11th Annual “A Night in the Caribbean” Party at The Gregory Kistler Treatment Center. There’ll be live and silent auctions, fine dining, and dancing to the sounds of Grupo Salsabor of Tulsa, OK. Proceeds benefit The Gregory Kistler Center’s mission of helping children and families in our community and surrounding area by providing programs for developmental disabilities. The event will take place at The Gregory Kistler Center in Fort Smith.

Listen to the contemporary folk sounds of Crow, a singer/songwriter from the deep woods of Arkansas. A recipient of the Kate Wolf Memorial Award, Crow’s “jazzy/blues/traditional” style touches the lives and hearts of her audience. Crow will be playing the first performance ever of the new stage at Ozark Folkways in Winslow.

Six blocks of arts, crafts, food and fun! This annual festival is held on Historic Main Street in Van Buren and features over 200 exhibitors from several states. There will be a variety of food, free entertainment and a carnival for the kids.

Fort Smith, AR // 479.785.4677 // kistlercenter.org

Winslow, AR // 479.634.3791 // Facebook.com/ozarkfolkways

Van Buren, AR // 479.410.1024 // vanburen.org

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Submit your events to editors@aturbanmagazine.com

24 | entertainment

Old Fort Days Rodeo

10th Annual Wakarusa Music Festival

May 27 – June 1 // See website for details

May 30 – June 2 // See website for details

Bull riding, calf roping, barrel racing and more! Come celebrate the 80th Anniversary of the Old Fort Days Rodeo where cowboys from around the world compete for one of the largest prize purses in Arkansas. Free nightly entertainment on the Choctaw Casino stage. With rodeo clowns, royalty pageants, and a kids’ dance off, this event has something to offer the entire family. Rustle up the family and head to Kay Rodgers Park for the Old Fort Days Rodeo.

Each year, the Wakarusa Music Festival brings in over 100 bands and thousands of devout music fans from all 50 states for four days of music in the Ozark Mountains. With daily activities which include a costume contest, yoga, a Ferris wheel, waterslide, workshops and disc golf, there’s no shortage of entertainment. Prepare for the weekend of a lifetime on Mulberry Mountain.

Fort Smith, AR // 479.783.6176 // oldfortdaysrodeo.com

Ozark, AR // 479.667.2949 // wakarusa.com

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Ozark Demolition Derby Spring Challenge

Riverfest 2013

Saturday, May 11 // 7:30PM // $5 – $12

May 24 – 26 // Times vary // $17.50 in advance, $35 at the gate

Touted as one of the most popular events in Northwest Arkansas, this metal crushing mayhem attracts thousands of fans and teams each year. Come watch lead-footed demolition teams crash and smash for cash in the 8th Annual Ozark Demolition Derby Spring Challenge. The fender bending fun will be held at the Parsons Stadium in Springdale.

This festival of visual and performing arts provides activities for all ages. Live music, great food and a rock-n-roll fun run! And to top it all off, there’ll be a pooch parade on the final day. Bring the family to enjoy an event filled weekend at Julius Breckling Riverfront Park in Little Rock.

Springdale, AR // 479.756.0464 // rodeooftheozarks.com

Little Rock, AR // 501.255.3378 // riverfestarkansas.com

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entertainment | 25

@story Tonya McCoy@images Courtesy Backroad Anthem

musicfrom the back road

26 | entertainment

Blue and green laser lights wash over the Fayetteville

crowd at a dimly lit George’s Majestic Lounge. Craig

Strickland, one of the lead vocalists for the local band

Backroad Anthem, works the crowd into a frenzy as he moves

around the stage singing their amped up remix of “Devil Went

Down to Georgia.” The audience watches and listens with

amazement as the fiddle player saws through the song at a

dizzying rate.

Seven hundred and fifty people are elbow to elbow in the

venue as another 200 have been turned away at the door of

the sold out show.

“The scene at George’s was unlike anything I’ve ever been a part

of. Many Texas bands will make it their goal to sell out George’s

Majestic in their career. For us to do that in our fourth show as a

band was special,” says Craig.

The band had only been an idea a few weeks earlier. Craig was

at a weekly church rehearsal last October with Toby Freeman

when Craig casually said, “We know all these talented guys,

we should start a country band.” The two started naming guys

they’d like to include and the stars began to align.

“Toby, he’s so blessed with singing harmony. He sounds amazing,

like the Rascal Flatts singer Gary Vox. I definitely don’t. I sound

more like a Florida Georgia Line type singer, which works so

perfect when you blend those two sounds together. Josh Bryant

is incredible at lead guitar and he’s got an awesome image. He’s

already travelled in Nashville with a Christian band before.

“Josh said ‘I’m in if Brandon Robold will play on bass.’ Brandon

has played with Amy Grant and he’s incredible.”

They then added Isaac Senty on drums and Neil Hubbard on

keys and Craig thought the band was complete. However,

during their first practice, one name kept getting tossed around

as a possible final member. Craig wasn’t sure. “I thought, ‘Do we

really need another person to take a cut away from the $800 we

might make on a good night?

“They were like, ‘Craig you don’t understand.’ They show me a

video of this kid, Eric Dysart. He lives in Tulsa. He’s twenty-one.

I just listened to him and my jaw drops, and I’m like, ‘We need

to get him!’”

Once Eric was added the band started performing cover country

songs. They played “Drunk on You” by Luke Bryan, “Cruise” by

Florida Georgia Line and some Jason Aldean and classic Garth

Brooks’ songs as well. They were confident in their talent, but

they knew to make it as a country band, they’d need more than

just a good sound. They needed fans.

So one day Craig stumbled across a marketing idea that he

thought would be perfect for Backroad Anthem. He was driving

while listening to Sirius XM radio and came across an interview

with Will Anderson, lead singer of the rock band Parachute. Will

had this idea of going around to sorority houses and performing

to help build their fans while at the University of Virginia.

“I was thinking to myself, we have about 20,000 students at the

University of Arkansas in our backyard.”

And that one realization led them to a new source of fans. Craig

teases that they sometimes call themselves the sorority boys.

“So we play our first chord at a sorority chapter meeting at the

U of A in Fayetteville, in front of about 300 students. We’d been

a band for three weeks, and immediately there were about

seventy phones videoing us, Instagramming us, talking about

us. It built such a momentum and we got gigs out of it.”

And that’s caused their fan base to grow. In fact, the band raised

$10,000 on Kickstarter.com in order to record their first CD this

past December.

And with their first CD, they’re getting to play their own music

with original home grown songs. Craig and other members

have written songs, many of them with Fayetteville songwriter

Barrett Baber.

In their favorite yet-to-be-titled original they sing: Take me

down that old back road, driving down Mill Creek road, your hand

entertainment | 27

I’d hold, a George Strait song on the radio. Give me all your love,

I’ll carry it with me.

The band members are authentic country boys whose songs will

take you back to the farm, back to your old pickup truck, and back

to your hometown. In fact, that romantic strip of back road they

sing about called Mill Creek is an actually in Mulberry, Arkansas.

But no matter which road their music takes them down, they

promise fame won’t go to their heads. “We are literally a group

of hometown dudes that still have jobs.”

“I work in local TV, Toby’s working at a bank, our drummer Isaac

is a Chick-Fil-A manager, our lead guitarist, Josh, he works for

Walmart corporate, and our bass player Brandon works as a

fiddler, and is married to his fiddle, that’s all he does. “That’s

how he pays his bills. He’s twenty years old. And when he was

twelve, he had his own show in Branson.”

This summer the band will play Thunder on the Mountain on

Mulberry Mountain in Ozark. They’ll be sharing this music

festival with country music stars like Toby Keith, Big & Rich and

Luke Bryan. Thousands of country fans will hear their music as

they take the main stage directly after Luke Bryan’s performance

on June 7.

In less than a year, they’ve come from covering Luke Bryan songs,

to performing their own songs on the same stage with him.

“Our attitude is pedal to the metal all the way. We’re not

stopping. Let’s do this thing and let’s try to make people fall

in love with us the best way we know how. And the best way

we know how is just playing an awesome live show and writing

music that catches you and grabs you.”

You can listen to an original song from Backroad Anthem

by logging on to the homepage of aturbanmagazine.

com. They’ll be having a party to celebrate the release

of their first CD at George’s Majestic Lounge in

Fayetteville on May 3 at 9:30 p.m. Don’t miss them at

Thunder on the Mountain where they’ll play June 7 and

June 8. Visit thunderonthemountain.com for details.

Follow the band on their website backroadanthem.com

or on Facebook at facebook.com/backroadanthem.

28 | entertainment

A college buddy of mine turned me on to these guys

a while back. The first time I heard this album, I

remember thinking that Alabama Shakes is probably

what would have happened if Lynard Skynard and Tina Turner

created a music baby.

Originally called The Shakes, the band started out as a duo

with lead singer-guitarist Brittany Howard and bassist Zac

Cockrell back in 2003. The two high school students shared a

love of music and often met after school to play together. After

graduation, they continued playing while working full time, and

recruited drummer Steve Johnson. Guitarist Heath Fogg joined

the band after hearing the trio’s demo, and in 2009 the band was

complete. To differentiate from other bands, they added their

home state to their name, and the Alabama Shakes were born.

Brittany takes you on an emotional journey with personal

experiences that have inspired many tracks in this album. Her

smooth, bold vocals take ownership of each song, and try as

you may to belt along with her, you know you’re not doing it

justice. You’re experiencing vulnerable passion here that can’t

be recreated.

Boys & Girls is a nostalgic jaunt back in time, reliving intense

memories of love and loss, joy, rejection, and infatuation.

The leadoff track “Hold On” is a strong start to Boys & Girls.

It sets the pace for the rest of the album without being

predictable. It was also nominated for three Grammys, with

good reason.

“Heartbreaker” and “I Found You” are spot-on accounts of the

highs and lows of relationships and love. “Heartbreaker” is full

of desperation and sorrow.

“Goin’ to the Party” is like entering a dark, smoky speakeasy.

Everyone’s dripping with sweat and dancing close, regardless of

who’s watching. It’s so sexy and tawdry it makes you feel like

you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be.

“Rise to the Sun” is Boys & Girls’ power song. Both smooth and

jagged, this is a song of revival and triumph. “On My Way” closes

this album with a gospel-style homage to the sister Brittany lost

to retinal cancer at the age of thirteen. While she rarely speaks

of her, Brittany cites her sister as her biggest musical influence.

Alabama Shakes is taking North America and Europe by storm

this year, stopping in Oklahoma to rock Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa

and Guthrie’s Gentleman of the Road show, with both venues

already sold out.

The only downside to Boys & Girls is the album’s length. It’s so

good that the eleven tracks leave you wanting more. This album

speaks to everyone, regardless of how many years it’s been

since we were discovering our own love and loss for the very

first time.

Boys & Girls by Alabama ShakesThe Bomb Shelter ATO Records, 2012: $13alabamashakes.shop@review Shannon Hensley

I Rate It

30 | entertainment

Elizabeth Strout, the Pulitzer prize winner of Olive

Kitteredge, has once again won the lottery with her new

book. Set in Maine and New York, it tells the story of the

Burgess family from Shirley Falls, Maine.

Because their father, a mill foreman, was killed in a freak

accident when the children were young, their mother struggled

to hold the family together in a run-down house with enough

food to eat but not much else. Armed with a short fuse and

harsh words, she kept her kids in line.

The Burgess boys, Jim and Bob, were smart and likable. Both

became lawyers and moved to New York. Jim, who defended

a rock star for murder and won, acquired national fame (think

Robert Shapiro in the O.J. Simpson case) and that case catapulted

him to a big law firm in Manhattan, and a beautiful brownstone in

Brooklyn with a rich wife from Connecticut.

Bob, overweight and kind, is a legal aid lawyer who drinks

too much. Divorced, he lives in a non-descript apartment and

gratefully accepts any scraps of love and attention thrown his

way by the brother he adores. Jim teases Bob about his weight

and his job with such a mean spirit that one wonders why he

puts up with it. Soon, it’s revealed that Bob caused the car

accident that killed his father, and he thinks he deserves to be

put down by his big brother.

The brothers have a sister, Susan, who is divorced and still lives in

Maine. She has a teenage son, Zach, who is a social misfit. Zach

throws a frozen pig’s head (that’s beginning to melt) through the

front door of a mosque during holy prayers. The congregation

demands retribution, and Zach is arrested for a hate crime.

Desperate, Susan summons her brothers to help.

Jim was Maine’s attorney general before he moved to New

York, so he thinks he can swagger in and get Zach off. Jim is

still admired as the favored son by the older folks in Shirley

Falls, although most Mainers wonder why anyone would want to

live in New York City, “where it seemed like a crowded state fair

in a field poured with concrete, with the rides underground.”

The Burgess boys find their hometown is nothing like it was.

Long buried resentments and fears surface, but new loyalties

blossom with a renewed sense of family.

The resolution of Zach’s case may surprise you and renew your

faith in your fellow man. This book is not one to hurry through,

so it’s probably not one to take to the beach. It demands your

attention and will cause you to examine the way you fit in with

your family and those you hold dear.

The Burgess Boys by Elizabeth StroutRandom House 320 pages: $26

@review Anita Paddock

32 | entertainment

@story and image Jacob Cooper

A Life Betterthan Miss America’s

34 | people

Before the symptoms and before the visit to Dr. Bridges

in Paragould, Arkansas, Bernice McCord received a

warning. Her mother had died of cancer the year before,

in 1946, when Bernice was still married. Now she was divorced,

a twenty-two-year-old single mother living with what was left of

her family: her father, her two sisters, her younger brother, and

her three-year-old son, Jerry. Bernice had stopped attending

church after she got married, but her niece persuaded her to

visit again. Despite searching for comfort after the tumultuous

year, she walked out of church that Sunday night during

the middle of the service more convinced than ever that the

churchgoers were hypocrites. She went straight from the church

to the movies—her favorite place to go as a young adult.

However, the following day she felt uneasy; there was a feeling

of guilt that she couldn’t shake. Monday night she lay in bed

reading romance stories until all the oil ran out of her lamp. She

couldn’t stop in the middle of a story, so she lit a match and

kept reading. Then something stopped her, and a voice spoke

directly to her. “You better pray because you’re going to die.”

She can’t explain why, but she made the next decision without

pause. She got out of bed and went straight to her father’s room.

Bernice shook him, waking him, and told him what she’d heard.

They knelt on the side of the bed and prayed. She repented for

her actions on Sunday, for her sins, for wasting so much time.

She started attending church again regularly after that night;

then the symptoms started.

Monday night she lay in bed reading romance stories until all the oil ran out of her lamp. She couldn’t stop in the middle of a story, so she lit a match and kept reading. Then something stopped her, and a voice spoke directly to her. “You better pray because you’re going to die.”

people | 35

At first she thought the symptoms were aftereffects of the

divorce and her mother’s passing; the last year had been the

most difficult of her young life. However, she began to get

nervous about her health when it didn’t improve. Every day

for the next two months she felt fatigued, unable to make it

through everyday tasks without having to rest. Then she started

losing weight. Before she started feeling sick, she weighed

approximately 130 pounds. By the time she went to the doctor,

Bernice was wearing her thirteen-year-old sister’s clothes.

On that day, Bernice sat nervously in the doctor’s office with

her father, Philemon Hurtis McCord. The doctor had ordered a

number of tests and done some blood work, and she and her

dad were waiting to hear the report.

Dr. Bridges, a dark-haired man who was a little overweight,

finally walked in to the room, the reports in his hands. There

wasn’t a gentle way to say it. “You have cancer of the kidneys,

and you are in the last stage.”

He waited a few seconds for her to respond, but she didn’t

say a word. The doctor gave her more details to make sure she

understood the severity of the situation. Her first thought was

for her son. It was difficult to imagine leaving him alone. But,

even then, she didn’t break down. She felt a peace; because

she had heard the warning and repented, she was resigned to

her fate.

“Bernice, are you a pretty good girl?” Dr. Bridges asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I’m trying to live right.”

“You better be. There’s nothing that can be done for you. No

medicine or treatment will help you now.”

Bernice walked out of Dr. Bridges’ office given only months to live.

Two weeks after learning she had cancer, Bernice heard that a

preacher was coming to the local First United Pentecostal Church

36 | people

on 4th Avenue for one service to pray for the sick. She doesn’t

remember how she heard about the service; she just remembers

feeling the need to attend. She’d been reading about the woman

with the issue of blood in the New Testament: “If I may touch

but his clothes, I shall be whole.” She put all of her faith into the

scripture—it was the only thing that gave her hope.

It was summer in Paragould, and Bernice was living under the

mandate that she didn’t have much longer, so she convinced

her dad to walk with her the nearly three miles one way from

their house on the outskirts of town to the church. It was a cool

night. By the time they arrived, people were lining up outside in

the streets; the church was full.

Eventually she was ushered through a side door and waited in

the prayer line behind people on stretchers and in wheelchairs.

She’d never seen Reverend William Branham in her life, and she

never would again, besides catching a quick glimpse of him on

TV only a few years before he was killed in a car wreck. Branham

was balding in the front with only a patch of hair he still combed.

He spoke like a simple man with a slight Kentucky accent.

The Evening Sun, now known as The Jonesboro Sun, ran a number

of articles about Reverend Branham’s visits to Northeast

Arkansas during 1947. In the June 12th edition, reporter

Eugene Smith notes that an estimated 20,000 people attended

the meetings that summer and fall, coming from California, New

Jersey, Kentucky, Wisconsin, Florida, Wyoming and Michigan.

Smith gave an account of his experience at the meetings:

“For two days this Sun representative attended the afternoon

services and spent a morning listening to Reverend Branham’s

story. Milling through the masses, talking to numerous people

from widely scattered areas, not one skeptic was encountered.

Many told stories that hardly seemed possible.”

Finally it was Bernice’s turn to step onto the platform. She wasn’t

emotional; she just held to the scripture about the woman with

the issue of blood and her faith. Reverend Branham looked at

her and turned to the audience.

“I wish everybody would come up here with the faith this

woman has,” he said. “Because she is going to be healed.”

The interaction was simple: he laid his hands on her head, said

a short prayer, and she walked off the platform without a word.

She didn’t shout, and she didn’t feel any physical transformation.

A week after seeing Reverend Branham, Bernice convinced her

dad to take her back to Dr. Bridges. She sat outside where she

could see the doctor in his office and hear what he was saying.

There had been a second round of tests and blood work. Once

again, Dr. Bridges came back with a report in his hands, but this

time he was talking to another doctor. “I don’t understand this,

but something has happened to her,” Bernice overheard him

say. “She’s almost well.”

Not almost well, Bernice thought to herself. I’m altogether well.

“Nurse, can you come here and look at this? I want to show

you something.”

The nurse left her patient to look at the reports.

“I don’t know what happened, but this girl is almost well,” Dr.

Bridges said.

“I don’t know either,” the nurse said. “But yes she is.”

After Dr. Bridges came in and told her the news, Bernice wanted

to tell him what had happened, but she was too shy. She

didn’t know if he would believe her, so she just accepted the

miraculous diagnosis without mentioning the voice, her faith,

or Reverend Branham. Dr. Bridges never got an explanation for

what he saw on the reports.

Dr. Bridges, a dark-haired man who was a little overweight, finally walked in to the room, the reports in his hands. There wasn’t a gentle way to say it. “You have cancer of the kidneys, and you are in the last stage.”

people | 37

Two years later Bernice married John Heritage, the love of her

life. Shortly thereafter she was expecting her second child, so she

went to the doctor for a checkup. She was completely cancer free.

Sixty-six years, nine children, twenty-three grandchildren, twenty-

three great-grandchildren, and ten great-great grandchildren

later, Bernice sits in her leather recliner—the old peach one her

family had become so familiar with has been recently replaced—

her double-socked feet propped up in front of her. The cancer

has never appeared in her body again. Her recliner faces a wall

full of portraits—the wall of graduates. Her grandchildren are

forever framed in dark suits and ties and modest dresses. The

living room is a shrine to heritage. Besides two years in St. Louis,

1952-1954, she’s lived her entire life in Paragould, guiding her

ever-growing family.

Bernice is eighty-nine and her husband John has been gone

for over twenty-five years; he was eighteen years older than

her. Only a few days before her eighty-ninth birthday on March

24, 2013, she went to the doctor for a routine checkup. For

a woman of her age, the doctor said she is in almost perfect

health. She’s outlived all of her immediate family except for her

brother, Hurtis “Buddy” McCord, who is seven years younger

than her. Even her eldest son, Jerry, who could have been her

only legacy, has passed away—from cancer.

She prays over her family daily, petitioning God for each

member individually. She works like a careful bricklayer,

continually building upon each row throughout the day until

she’s built a fort.

Her family is her legacy, something that cancer almost took

away when she was twenty-two.

But there’s a greater legacy she wants to leave behind. “If we

don’t tell our children and our grandchildren and teach them

about Jesus and the Holy Ghost, it will soon be lost,” Bernice

said. “I’m not a preacher, but I’m gonna tell all my family and

everybody I talk to that that is the truth.”

Both legacies, however, are connected by her experience with

cancer. “I know what it’s like to walk out of the doctor’s office

with a death sentence on your life,” she recalled. “But I had just

become a Christian. When I went to the doctor, I was more calm

than scared. I took the news real good. I thought that was the

end, but the Lord was giving me the strength to bear the news.”

Now she wants everyone, especially her family, to know her

miraculous story because she lives with the regret of not

sharing it with Dr. Bridges. She knows she had an opportunity, a

testimony, that she let get away.

But she doesn’t allow yesterday’s disappointments and failures

to hinder her resolve today. She’s been living for God for sixty-

six years and doesn’t plan to stop now. She knows she wouldn’t

still be alive at eighty-nine with a large extended family if she

hadn’t obeyed the voice of God and held onto her faith. “I told

the Lord, ‘Lord, I’d rather be as ugly as homemade soap and live

for You than to be Miss America.’”

1 williambranhamhomepage.org/masent19.htm

“I know what it’s like to walk out of the doctor’s office with a death sentence on your life. But I had just become a Christian. When I went to the doctor, I was more calm than scared. I took the news real good. I thought that was the end, but the Lord was giving me the strength to bear the news.”

38 | people

As a writer for @Urban, I’d like to let you in on a little

secret—I almost always love my job and my editors. I

generally get to pick my own stories, and even when

I don’t, I’m usually excited about my assignments. Until I heard

about this one—four principals retiring from Fort Smith Public

Schools. To be honest, I couldn’t connect with it. I didn’t attend

public schools, I don’t deal well with authority, and I don’t have

children. I was hoping the story would fall through.

But it didn’t.

The day of the interview, my editor called to discuss what would

happen. She said both she and the magazine owner would be

there, and I said, “Wait a minute. That’s today? I thought it was

Thursday.” So I pulled myself together and was the last to arrive.

We all sat around a conference table at Ramsey Junior High, and

as the four elementary school principals began to share stories

about their lives in education, it didn’t take me long to realize

that I had been wrong about this story.

For just over an hour, it was my privilege to sit with the four

people featured in the following pages and listen to them

recount their biggest challenges, their most memorable

students, and their most embarrassing moments. As they

opened their hearts, I found that mine did as well.

And that’s the power of this story—the ability of four individuals

to change the perceptions and lives of thousands through the

simple act of caring.

@story Marcus Coker@images Catherine Fredrick

40 | people

In 1983, Sarah Lavey started her career in education as a fifth

grade teacher at Trusty Elementary School in Fort Smith. Since

2008, she’s been its principal. “When I was

younger, I wanted to be a social worker but

realized I couldn’t manage my emotions when

dealing with distressed children,” says Sarah.

“Ironically, I became a teacher. My first year, I

had thirty-eight kids. Eighteen were in special

ed. If I could go back now and talk to myself,

I’d say, ‘This is what you need to be doing. You

need to make a difference.’”

For nearly three decades, Sarah has done just

that. “I have a little fifth grade girl that I taught

her mother, and her mother told her daughter,

‘Mrs. Lavey didn’t put up with that when I was in

fifth grade, and I don’t think she’s going to put up with it now.’”

As Sarah talks, one thing becomes abundantly clear—she’s firm,

but she cares for her students. “I think the most important thing

we do is build relationships with kids. And kids are just honest

people. If they think it, they say it or ask it.”

A student once asked Sarah if she could be his mother. When

she explained that she couldn’t, he asked if she could be his

grandmother instead. It’s a cute story, but if you spent an

afternoon with Sarah, you’d want her to be your grandmother

too. Her voice sounds like your favorite blanket feels—

comforting and safe. It’s like she’s been through the storm but

still has her heart open.

“Sometimes I think kids are my connection to humanity. Because

when things go so catawampus everywhere, all I have to do is

just find one of those smiling faces. I don’t

know how you can be in a bad mood if you’ve

spent fifteen minutes with a group of kids.”

As Sarah prepares to retire, that’s what she

remembers—the kids. “I had a little boy my

fourth or fifth year of teaching, the cutest

little boy. Blonde hair. Freckles. Gorgeous little

boy. The secretary introduced me to him, and

I felt like new kids should feel a part from the

beginning, so my whole thing was to use his

name. ‘Now, Dale, what do you think about

that? Now, Dale, can you expand?’ Then one

day he didn’t respond, and I said, ‘Well, Dale,

why aren’t you answering?’ And he said, ‘Because my name’s

not Dale.’”

Sarah laughs, telling the story as if it happened yesterday. As she

continues, it’s obvious that not only has she made a difference

in the lives her students, but they’ve made a difference in hers

as well. “This year we donated to the Girls Shelter through a

program called Coins for Kids. Now I’ve got some of the poorest

of the poor in Fort Smith Public Schools, but those kids gave the

widow’s mite—quarters, nickels, and dimes—and they donated

$149.07 to the Girls Shelter. The kids did that. Now I may never

remember all their names, but I’ll remember how they gave.”

{ Sarah Lavey }Trusty Elementary School

people | 41

As principal of Ballman Elementary School, Dr. Billie Warrick

has spent over forty years in education. “I grew up in Ozark and

wanted to be a geologist,” says Billie. “But my

mom had other ideas. It wasn’t that she wanted

me to be a teacher, just not a geologist. So when

one of my professors at Hendrix inspired me, I

went that direction.”

Billie started her career as a teacher in Morrilton.

“I remember being both scared and excited.

But I knew I wanted to be with children, where

every day would be different.” For a while, Billie

lived and worked in Missouri, but came back to

Arkansas to teach in Greenwood for eighteen

years and Fort Smith for twenty-two. Since 1997,

she’s been Ballman’s principal.

For Billie, personal interaction with students is important. She

says, “Our job is to be there for them. We have to learn to

negotiate with them. And they’re the first to know it if you’re

not genuine.” Sometimes that means doing things out of the

ordinary. Billie says, “We dressed up as Ghostbusters one year

at a PTA meeting. I was fully decorated with a vacuum cleaner

on my back.”

The other principals talk about what’s changed over the years—

things like technology and how kids are growing up faster than

they used to. Billie says, “I think we have to teach character

more and more. We just have to channel things in the right

direction, what’s appropriate and what’s not. What they do at

home may not translate to school, and what they do at school

may not translate to church. Those judgments are having to be

taught.”

As the discussion turns to students the

principals won’t forget, Billie goes back to

her first year of teaching in Morrilton. “I had

forty first graders, and we did home visits the

first quarter. I was down to my last two and

had to go south of Morrilton on a dirt road to

the middle of a cotton patch. I got there and

Harvey’s dad had taken off, and there was his

mom and a baby, and there was nothing in that

house—nothing. There were some quilts on

the floor, which I’m assuming was where they

sat and where they slept. His mom had done

the diapers, and they were hanging on a folding rack, and that

was really about all that was in the house. Harvey ran to the

door. ‘It’s my teacher!’ Of course, the mother was humiliated

beyond belief to have someone come into this, but we talked

and had the conference, and I left. The first thing Harvey said

the next morning was, ‘My teacher came to see me!’”

By the end of the story, Billie’s choked up, and it’s obvious

why she’s spent her lifetime investing in the lives of children.

“Sometimes it’s hard to get down the hall because the kids wrap

themselves around you.” What could be better than that?

{ Dr. Billie Warrick }Ballman Elementary School

36 | people42 | people

Stanley Wells grew up in Charleston and has worked for Fort

Smith Public Schools for thirty-eight years—his entire career. As a

fourth grade teacher at Echols Elementary School,

Stanley started teaching in 1975. “Sometimes

you pick a job for selfish reasons, and I wanted

to do something I’d enjoy,” says Stanley. “And

what better way to have fun than to work at an

elementary school. Back then, we did physical

education and art and everything, and I wanted to

share with the kids and watch those light bulbs

come on.”

Since 1995, Stanley’s been the principal at

Woods Elementary School. He says, “I still keep

a piece of stained glass from Echols on my desk.

The school is closed now, and I’ll be the last

person to retire who taught there.”

Perhaps one of Stanley’s best qualities is that he can relate to

his students. “I can sympathize with kids. When I was in school, I

made good grades, but I struggled. There are kids that are going

to struggle, and there may be reasons for it. But everyone excels

at something. If you wanted a parade float done or a party

planned, I was your guy.”

The other principals say that Stanley is still that guy—organized

and fun. He collects neckties (he has over 100) and has been

known to roller skate down the hallway dressed as an elf. He’s

even kissed a pig—anything for the kids. “Our kids need time to

play. It’s good for them to learn, but they need time to explore

and play and do all the things you do at five years old.”

And that’s Stanley’s advice to other teachers

and principals—make school a fun place to

learn. “If you don’t look forward to it, you know

the kids won’t. I guess that’s why I’ve been a

big child all these years. I want school to be a

place I want to be.”

When the other principals share their most

embarrassing moments as teachers, Stanley

says, “When I was young and single, I inherited

a chin up bar, one that you could wedge

between a door frame. So I was going to show

the kids how to use it, and I pulled my whole

weight up, and it gave way. I fell flat on my

back on a concrete floor. I didn’t hit my head, but it knocked my

breath out.”

But Stanley handled that situation like he handles most things—

he refused to get bent out of shape. “You have to look, how

important is this compared to the whole of life? And you’ve got

to laugh and move on.”

And that’s the wonderful thing about Stanley—he’s a living

example of his own philosophy. “We want to teach kids to the

right thing and make good choices. That’s our job. I always say,

‘You never know who’s watching.’ So the way I act is the way I

want the kids to act, because their behavior reflects on them,

their school, and their community.”

{ Stanley Wells }Woods Elementary School

people | 43

Michela “Mikie” Wiley has worked for Fort Smith Public Schools

for the last thirty-seven years. Since 2000, she’s been the

principal at Carnall Elementary School. “My dad

was a coach, my mom was a librarian, and my

siblings were teachers, and I did not want to

go into education,” says Mikie. “Then I spent a

summer at Head Start and fell in love. I knew it

was what I was supposed to do.”

In 1974, Mikie started as a second grade teacher

at Fairview Elementary. “I didn’t have a clue

what I was doing. Nobody is prepared for the

first day of school. But every school I’ve been

in has been a situation where I’ve grown. I’ve

become a better person and educator.”

Like the other principals, Mikie emphasizes understanding her

students. “When I was in school, I wasn’t always perfect, so I

can relate to those kids who aren’t always perfect. There was

one year they weren’t going to hand out the yearbook because

my skirt in it was too short. But I’m almost six feet tall!” Mikie

says as she laughs. “I was smart, but I couldn’t do chemistry, so I

always had someone set up my experiment during lunch so the

teacher wouldn’t know. But I turned out all right.”

Mikie credits her success to the good people in her life—her

family and friends and teachers—and strives to pass that

success on to her students. “My favorite quote is, ‘Kids don’t

care how much you know until they know how much you care.’

You build a relationship with those kids, and they’re going to

perform the best they can. My theory is if you have happy kids,

you have happy parents. If you have happy

parents, you have a happy school.” Mikie

pauses then says, “I’ve learned it’s not me, it’s

about serving everyone else.”

As the conversation turns to the challenges

of being a principal, Mikie says, “I remember

one specific family. The little girl needed my

help, and I was the one who turned them in

to DHS.” Educators are bound by law to report

all student safety issues to the Arkansas

Department of Human Services. “At the end,

they separated all those kids. When the school

called to find out about the little girl, she

wasn’t doing well. And she was just so smart. I talked to her on

the phone, and she said, ‘I feel guilty. I’m the reason my family’s

not together.’ I said, ‘It’s not your fault.’ You do so many of those

things with my job. I worry about those kids; they’re all spread

out. You wonder how they’ll ever get back together. It bothers

me to this day, ten years later. The ones that haunt me are the

ones where I don’t know what happened.”

For a moment, the room gets quiet, as if all the principals could

share similar stories. Then, like a loving teacher, Mikie shares a

lesson we could all stand to remember. “The thing I’ve had to

learn is this—I can do what I can do, and the rest I have to leave

to God.”

{ Michela (Mikie) Wiley }Carnall Elementary School

As they retire, these four principals take with them over 125

years of combined experience in serving Fort Smith Public

Schools. Although their parting is sad, this can be said for

certain—they have done their jobs well, and the character and

standards that shaped them have assuredly been passed on to all

the lives they’ve touched. Their influences will continue to be felt

throughout our community for decades to come. In that respect,

their legacies continue. Surely we are all the better because of

the work they’ve done.

44 | people

Cupcakes make you happy! Imagine how we felt when we received a

ton of delicious cupcake recipes from our loyal readers in our Bake Me a Cupcake Contest. Ecstatic doesn’t even come close to describing our level

of happiness!

After much debate and taste testing (have we mentioned how much we

love our jobs?), we reached a verdict. Resha Smith’s Strawberry Cheesecake

Cupcakes with Lemon Buttercream Frosting are so moist, and are the perfect

blend of flavors – sweetness, a bit of lemony tang and all around cupcake

awesomeness. Congratulations Resha! Enjoy your $200 gift card from our

dear friends at Creative Kitchen.

46 | taste

Cupcakes and Cheesecake Topping 1 box white cake mix

1 box strawberry gelatin

4 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 cup milk

½ cup vegetable oil

½ cup chopped fresh strawberries

(about 7 large strawberries)

4 large eggs

1 package of cream cheese

(room temperature)

1/3 cup granulated sugar

Lemon Buttercream Frosting 1 large lemon

1 teaspoon lemon zest

2-3 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter

softened to room temperature

3 cups powdered sugar, sifted

Milk or additional lemon juice,

if needed

Preheat oven to 350. Line muffin tins with paper liners. In a large bowl, combine cake mix, gelatin, and flour. Add the milk, oil, strawberries, and 3 eggs. Beat with an electric mixer on low speed until combined. Scrape sides of bowl, increase mixer speed to medium and mix for 2 minutes. Set aside.

For the cheesecake topping, combine cream cheese, sugar and 1 egg. Beat with an electric mixer on low until creamy, about 2 minutes.

Using a measuring cup, scoop a heaping ¼ cup of the strawberry batter into the paper liners, about 2/3 of the way full. Next, place a tablespoon of the cheesecake filling on top of the cupcake batter.

Put the pan on the center rack of oven and bake until the tops spring back when pressed lightly with your finger – about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool for 5 minutes. Remove cupcakes from the pan and place on a wire rack to cool completely. While cupcakes are cooling, make your frosting.

Wash and dry lemon. Zest lemon. Keep the lemon for the lemon juice. Place the butter in a medium bowl and beat with an electric mixer on low speed until fluffy. Add the lemon zest, lemon juice and powdered sugar 1 cup at a time until well blended. Turn the mixer to medium and beat until the mixture is light and fluffy. If the frosting is too stiff, add a bit of lemon juice or milk until you reach the desired consistency. If the frosting is too runny, add more powdered sugar. Frost your cupcakes and enjoy!

@recipe Resha Smith@image Catherine Frederick

taste | 47

I Dream of Spaghetti@recipe and images Stacey Little

48 | taste

I was fortunate to grow up in a household where my mother cooked every day.

Regardless of what else was going on, we gathered as a family every night to share

an evening meal. It was an opportunity to share our days with one another and

connect as a family. Today, I carry on the same tradition with my little family. But like

the rest of the world, there are days when it’s a struggle to get a home cooked meal

on the table.

As a food blogger, one of the things that I have found is that many folks are just looking

for easy, quick recipes. You know, recipes that call for things that they probably already

have in the pantry. I’ve also learned that it seems a rare occurrence that families gather

together for a meal. Supper has become something that is usually grabbed after one

activity while heading to another. Families are missing out on the opportunity to

unplug and reconnect with one another.

My grandfather was one of thirteen children. Growing up, he and his brothers and

sisters were not allowed to talk at the table. My guess is that was based on practicality.

Fifteen folks all talking at one time was probably a bit too much to take in after a hard

day in the fields. He tells a hilarious story about the day he had something important

to say at the supper table. Apparently his exclamation was met with his father hurling

a sweet potato at him. Fortunately, we don’t live in a world like that anymore. Today,

sit-down meals offer families the chance to develop the relationships we share.

My goal is about giving folks easy recipes that allow them to quickly get a meal on the

table. The truth is, it’s not really about the food itself (shh… don’t tell anyone). The food

is just a conduit by which families can spend time together. The food is good, but the

company is better.

Sure, my recipes might have a can of cream of chicken soup or a packet of instant gravy

mix, but my thought is this. Those relationships we develop over a meal are far more

important than any convenience food. We don’t all have time to create cream sauces

from scratch and if there’s something that I can do that helps folks get supper on the

table a little quicker and more easily, then I’m going to do it.

This recipe is no exception. Turn plain old spaghetti night into something special with

this easy Baked Spaghetti. We hardly ever have regular spaghetti with meat sauce

anymore. The cream cheese gives the dish a velvety smooth texture that we just love.

So, I encourage you to make time for one another. Turn off the smart phones and game

systems. Leave the hassles of work and the stresses of school at the door. Sit as a

family and share a meal. Talk to one another. Listen to one another. You just never know

what you might hear or what you might learn.

taste | 49

Preheat the oven to 350°. Cook the spaghetti according to

package directions and drain. In a large skillet over medium heat

cook the ground beef with the onions until it is no longer pink.

Drain the excess grease. Return the beef and onions to the pan

and stir in the spaghetti sauce. Bring the meat sauce to a simmer

and cook for about 10 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese, milk, and garlic

powder. Spray a 13 x 9-inch baking dish with non-stick cooking

spray. In the dish, layer noodles, then the cream cheese mixture,

then the meat sauce. Top with the mozzarella and bake for 25 to

30 minutes or until cheese is melted and bubbly.

You can follow Stacey at southernbite.com

Directions:

Serves 5 to 6

Ingredients: 1 (12-ounce) package thin spaghetti

1 1/2 pounds ground beef

1 small onion, diced

1 (24-ounce) jar spaghetti sauce

1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened

2 tablespoons milk

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

Stacey Little is the author and publisher of SouthernBite.com, an award-winning Southern food blog dedicated to sharing his family’s Southern recipes.

50 | taste

Enjoy this and other premium cocktails at MovieLounge. Please drink responsibly.

Chocolate2 oz Godiva Chocolate Liqueur

Rumchata2 oz Rumchata liqueur

/ Horchata liqueur

Vanilla2 oz Absolut Vanilla

Sponsored by7601 Rogers Ave, Fort Smith479.226.3595 | MovieLoungeFSM.com

@images Jeromy Price

@recipe Jeff Price, Bar Manager, MovieLounge

In a blender, mix the ice cubes, ice cream,

and liquor of your choice. Top with whipped

cream and a cherry.

2 scoops vanilla ice cream

2 oz liquor of choice

52 | taste

Monday – Saturday: 11AM to 9PMSunday (Brunch): 11AM to 3PM

Beer & Wine selections | Meats & Cheeses by the pound | Catering & Take-out available

7320 Rogers Avenue, Fort Smith (in Stonewood Village)479.434.6474myrivercitydeli.net

River City Deli

54 | taste

River City Deli is located just off Rogers Avenue in Fort

Smith, tucked inside Stonewood Village, with not

even the hint of a neon sign by the road to grab your

attention. They say good things are hard to find, and that was

our immediate thought after enjoying a delicious meal at River

City Deli. Perhaps you hadn’t noticed them there before, but it’s

high time you did.

The idea for River City came from a trip to Oaklawn Park in Hot

Springs, when Susan Tucker was spending a day at the horse

races. When she got hungry she found herself in a long line for a

corned beef sandwich. “Before that I wouldn’t have thought we

could sell corned beef in Arkansas,” Susan says. “I just wouldn’t

have expected it. But they were lined up by the hundreds.”

That was her Eureka moment. She came home to Fort Smith

and talked to her son, Chef Jason Haid, about bringing a New

York style deli and restaurant to life. Today, the two, who are

originally from Pittsburg, spend their days running River City.

Jason, the head chef, creates new recipes to mix in with family

favorites, and he manages the eight fine dining chefs who make

everything fresh, from the breads, soups and entrees, to the

desserts so delectable you’ll forget your sensible diet.

“Jason’s a purist about food. We don’t even have a microwave

in the kitchen; he won’t allow it,” Susan says. The standards

he’s set lay the groundwork for some of the best food we’ve

tasted. And having a restaurant that serves dishes we wouldn’t

normally enjoy here - the potato latkes will win you over - is

an added bonus.

Don’t let the word ‘deli’ fool you. Step inside the doors to River

City and you won’t find a meat counter or anyone slapping store-

bought deli slices on white bread. Do they prepare delicious

sandwiches with made-from-scratch ingredients? Yes. Do they

fly in corned beef and salami direct from Carnegie Deli in New

York? Yes, they do. Do they also smoke their own meats? You

bet they do; and you won’t find anything else like it in town. But

they also serve up some of the most melt-in-your-mouth, non-

sandwich style entrees this side of the Hudson. Stop by once,

and like us, you’ll become one of River City’s many devotees.

The atmosphere inside River City isn’t fussy. It’s kind of like

you’re home. Gracious, but no white linens needed, just an

exceptional staff attending to your every need even before you

know you need it, and they can answer any questions you may

have about the menu.

Before we had the chance to take in the entire menu, our

server offered up some tomatoes and pickles. But not just any

tomatoes and pickles. Bread-and-butter green tomatoes and

half-sour pickles. Be still my Southern heart! I have a weakness

for green tomatoes. These were firm, crinkle cut, and soaked in

a bread-and-butter mixture that made me weak in the knees.

Not too sweet, not too spicy, just right. And I am a huge raw

cucumber fan, with an equal love for dill pickles. This is the

taste | 55

perfect marriage. Not too sour - they fall perfectly in the

middle, allowing your taste buds to teeter from fresh cucumber

to slightly dillish - and the freshness of the cucumber shone

through with each crunchy bite. If they sold these by the jar, I’d

stock my pantry.

Now we get to the appetizer. We started with the Caprese

appetizer. Ripe cherry tomatoes, purple onion, and basil,

marinated in balsamic vinegrette. Served with fresh, thick sliced

mozzarella and toasted ciabatta crostini slices. Simple, yet so

flavorful, it’s a fresh taste you rarely get unless you’re picking it

from your garden at home.

Next up were the entrees. The classic Ruben sandwich, served

with homemade coleslaw, and a dill pickle spear. I’ll be the first

to admit, I don’t like a mushy sandwich. If the bread gets soggy

from the condiments, I’m out. No worries here. The rye bread

was toasted to perfection, still chewy, and not one bit mushy.

A liberal amount of thinly sliced, steamed corned beef, topped

with Thousand Island dressing, tangy sauerkraut and melted

Swiss cheese. Better bring your appetite because these are

generous portions.

We also had the beef brisket platter, served with the potato

latkes and a heaping bowl of fresh fruit. Now we all know,

here in the South, we serve our brisket smothered in BBQ

sauce. Not this time. We didn’t need it. You read that right. No

sauce needed. Thick sliced brisket, slow roasted and perfectly

seasoned, that cuts with ease and melts in your mouth. And the

potato latkes. Absolutely heavenly! The best way to describe

them is a creamy potato cake, lightly fried, not the slightest bit

greasy, crispy on the edges, with a taste that will remind you of

your granny’s hushpuppies. The fruit was in season, fresh, and

the perfect accompaniment to the brisket and potatoes.

Who would believe we had room for dessert? Just one look at

these two dishes and we couldn’t resist. Carrot cake, double-

decker, mind you, and cheesecake with strawberry glaze and fresh

strawberries, all made from scratch, in house, even the glaze. The

carrot cake was so good, especially the chopped pecans atop the

cream cheese icing to balance the salty with the sweet. But that

cheesecake? Where to begin? The crust was out of this world.

Moist, not crumbling. Nice and thick with a hint of cinnamon. And

the cheesecake? Seriously the most light and creamy cheesecake

we’ve ever had. Not too thick - the consistency was spot on. The

strawberry glaze complemented an already perfect dessert; it

was bursting with fresh strawberry flavor.

Top it off with a fresh brewed cup of coffee and you have

the perfect meal prepared by a wonderful family who has a

genuine passion for preparing fresh and delicious foods from

simple ingredients. Give River City Deli a try, if you haven’t

already. Great food, great atmosphere, and an all around

wonderful experience.

56 | taste

The rain that started early this morning is finally winding

down. Beside the road, little rivers flow through drainage

ditches, and cows stand in green fields watching the cars

pass. Up ahead is Joplin, Missouri, where Max and Vicki Carr are

just opening the doors of Sandstone Gardens, not far from the

cottage where they spend the hours when they’re not at work.

Those hours are short ones. The Carrs typically work seven

days a week in this showroom filled with garden statuary and

fountains made on site, a bistro that uses Vicki’s own recipes,

lots of furniture, linens, oil paintings, and almost anything else

you could think of to decorate your home. In fact, it’s become

so popular that it’s now a destination location, particularly for

women who tend to travel in groups, spend the day shopping,

and then head to nearby Downstream Casino, where Vicki says

the rooms are lovely and the prices low.

Sandstone Gardens is set on sixty-eight pristine acres on a road

that ambles near small farms, wide fields, and on the day of this

visit, a clutch of seven red and brown chickens meandering near

Inside the Wallsof Sandstone Gardens

@story Marla Cantrell@images Mark Mundorff

58 | travel

a mailbox where something incredibly interesting seems to be

going on.

The main building is thoughtfully designed, using many of the

details Max gathered through years of studying buildings he

loved. The grounds are neatly manicured with fountains placed

on stone patios, one with a fireplace that’s lit in colder months.

The Carrs’ story goes back to 1986, just after the two married.

Both worked eight-to-five jobs, the kind that paid the bills but

left them feeling empty. The solution came when they started

a side business, just a weekend gig, where they’d make small

concrete lawn ornaments from commercial molds – mostly

geese and bunnies – that they’d then sell at crafts fairs.

On those trips they also looked for antiques, and began buying

some beautiful old concrete pieces. “Our travels took us out

east, like to Newport, Rhode Island, and we’d see all these

estates and the Biltmore House, and we loved the aesthetics.

We made our name because almost no one was taking statuary

on the road because it’s so heavy,” Max says.

Once home, they’d create fountains and statues inspired by

the antiques they’d purchased. They came up with a formula

to recreate the patina that evolves naturally on old pieces,

and their work just got better and better. “We also made the

commitment to only use concrete and marble dust in our work

when others were adding ingredients, like fiberglass or plaster

or resin to make their work lighter,” Max says. “That might make

it lighter to ship, but it won’t last you as long.”

What’s intriguing about the two is that neither has any formal

training in art or design. Walk inside Sandstone Gardens and

you’d think there were dozens of experts orchestrating the

displays that cover 50,000 square feet – there are whole rooms

decorated, complete with beds or dining tables and fireplaces

– but Vicki is the eye behind what is bought and arranged here.

And Max? He’s a self-taught poet, artist and gardener who loves

architecture the way a movie buff loves Hollywood.

Look above the main entry as you walk up the massive steps

and you’ll see the kind of detail that makes this place special.

There, sculpted into the carved panels above the windows and

door is the image of their dog, Bear Bear. “He was a stray we saw

get run over. Vicki and I took him in, had him nine years before he

died. That dog changed my way of looking at life. We wanted a

way to keep him alive, and we had a sculptor working for us who

designed the image of the Chow Chow, and above it, in French, it

says ‘Mr. Bear Dog.’ That’s how much our dog meant to us.”

Once inside, it’s hard to know which way to go. There are

antiques, statues of various sizes, like one that looks like the

head of a Grecian woman that serves as a vase. Thousands of

lights twinkle from the ceiling, tree branches are brought in and

bent in arches that serve to define one area from another. Soft

music plays, and everywhere there are displays of fully set up

rooms where customers can glean ideas they can transfer to

their own homes.

If you stay long enough to get hungry, and you will, there’s a

bistro with a full menu. The meatloaf and salmon are delicious,

but so are the sandwiches and soups and the bread pudding.

“When we opened the bistro it was much smaller,” Max says.

“We thought it would be a place where the men would drink

coffee and read the paper while the women shopped. But it was

so popular we expanded it. The food’s so good – it’s all Vicki’s

recipes - we even won an award for it.”

Just outside the bistro is a table filled with statues of dogs, with

giant urns and massive planters close by. The stone floor is still

damp from the morning rain, the ferns glistening as the sun

surfaces from behind a cloud.

Farther on is the manufacturing center where seven workers

produce the concrete pieces. The entire operation hums with

activity. Shoppers go in and out, some with measuring tapes

and notebooks. The bistro is filling up, and all around the clerks

communicate through headsets, something that’s necessary in

a space this size.

When the doors of Sandstone Gardens opened in May of 2004,

Max was anxious to see what people thought of their grand

idea. He stood at the doors that look as if they could have come

travel | 59

from a castle and watched the crowd come in. One of the first

women to arrive lifted her arms and said, “Finally, a Bass Pro

Shop® for women!”

The comment was more than Max could have asked for. He and

Vicki had created a place that was thrilling to shoppers and filled

with classic pieces that stand the test of time. Max looks again

at Vicki. “When I married Vicki I had no idea what a visionary

she was. She has this incredible eye, she’s a great cook, she can

decorate anything. I don’t think we’d be here without her.”

Vicki turns the conversation to Max. “He’s modest,” she says. “He’s

a published poet; he’s written a book of poetry and has poems in

several journals, and he’s done a lot for this community.”

There is indeed a book of Max’s poetry that shows the depth

of his writing ability. He used that talent in the wake of the

Joplin tornado that hit on May 22, 2011, killing 161 people and

destroying a third of the city. Sandstone was not touched. None

of their staff was injured, something they’re thankful for every

day. When the mayor asked Max and Vicki to rebuild a fountain

in one of the city’s parks as a way to remember those lost, they

got to work.

“During the cleanup the city had unearthed this old fountain

reservoir and they realized a fountain had been there in the

early 1900s,” Max says. “They asked us to reproduce it, and we

did. I designed it with three tiers, with five spigots in the top

tier for the month of May, twenty-two on the second and eleven

on the bottom. 5-22-11. We dedicated the fountain and I read

the poem I’d written for the occasion, called “Proclamation

of Restoration”. I was honored to do it, and that’s where the

spiritual element comes in, because the fountain represents

the Living Waters. These people will never be forgotten. That

was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done, because

you know you’re using the talent God gave you for something

that will long endure.”

There is a moment when everything seems to go quiet, even

inside this bustling store. And then Max’s phone rings, and a

customer comes by to ask Vicki a question, and they are back

to work, doing the what they love, making beautiful things that

stand the test of time, always together. Always a team.

Sandstone Gardens is approximately two and

half hours from Fort Smith. For directions visit

sandstonegardens.com

60 | travel

We got to go down to the town hall tonight, me and

Mama and Brodie. We’re the last family they’re

talking to, and the ones who got the worst of it,

if you ask me.

The trouble is this: our house stretches across the state line.

The kitchen’s in Mudtown, Missouri, and Mama’s bedroom, well

that’s in Swamptown, Arkansas. And yeah, those are real names.

The rest of the folks they got jawing about the divide ain’t got

half the trouble we do. Miss Cavanaugh’s having a conniption

because when she walks across the road she crosses over into

Missouri, where her mailbox sits on a cedar post, so she ain’t

sure what her zip code is.

Big deal.

I eat breakfast in Missouri, and when I stand in the hall I can

straddle two borders. Try topping that. Course I wouldn’t of ever

knowed if the bigwigs in Missouri hadn’t decided to survey the

state line. You know why they did it? A bunch of Civil War re-

enactors dug up an old map that showed the Missouri border

way on over in Bailey County, forty miles from here. Well then,

somebody from the government who ain’t got enough to keep

hisself busy got hold of it and decided to check it out.

A whole passel of surveyors come out with their tripods

and whatnot, and about six months later a story run in the

Swamptown Sentinel saying they’d heard rumors that Missouri

was trying to boondoggle Arkansas out of land. We read it but

we don’t believe much of what gets wrote up in the paper, so

we wasn’t worried.

That was until we got our property tax bill from Arkansas, and

then Missouri sent their bill, and Mama, she works with hair, so

she don’t have a whole pile of money.

She called the mayor, who put her off. Well, fine then, she says,

so she rung up the governor of Arkansas, who happens to be

running for re-election, and his main guy come out and had his

picture taken, straddling the hall like I been doing for twelve

months now, and he put it on the World Wide Web, and now the

mayor’s all up in our business, just red hot about us airing our

particulars to folks he believes has a lot more to worry about

than where a rickety old house falls on a crummy map.

“I do not like this dual citizenship,” Mama said to the TV reporter

who come over from Little Rock. He’d checked out the story and

found that the only land Missouri was claiming was our house,

nine growed-up lots beside us, and half the asphalt that stops

smack dab at the yellow center line in the road.

“I feel like a man without a country,” Mama said into the

microphone, and drummed her fingers across her throat, for

effect, I believe, and squeezed out a little tear.

And then I said, kind of smart-alecky like, “You ain’t a man at

all, Mama,” and she tried to backhand me right there on live TV,

which I believe I could use in court against her, if I knew which

state to prosecute her in.

So now we’re walking over to the town hall, where there’s twenty

cameras going, at least, and Brodie, he don’t talk much, so he’s

hanging back, making faces like his mind ain’t right, which it is,

and I’m walking beside Mama, like I know how to fix this.

Which I do.

Swamptown and Mudtown and Mama

@fiction Marla Cantrell

62 | back story62 | back story

Somebody needs to move our house, something we could do our

own selves if it was a trailer, but we upgraded from wheels five

years ago when Mama got a settlement after she got low sick

from eating at Supper on the Fly, and yeah that’s a real name.

When we walk in, the Arkansas governor’s up front, his black hair

all slicked back, and he’s got a diamond stickpin on, made from

a rock he found at Murfreesboro, a few counties over, where you

can dig for your own diamonds, and no that ain’t no joke.

The Missouri governor’s A.W.O.L., which don’t surprise me, since

he ain’t campaigning this year. That’s just one of the things you

got to know when you live in house that’s stretched across two

state lines.

Mama’s wearing too much makeup, and she’s got on a dress,

something I ain’t seen in a while, and she’s carrying a hankie

that belonged to my dearly departed memaw.

She marches up front, bumping through the crowd, and sits at

a long table where they’ve set out Planter’s peanuts from the

factory down south, and Coca-Cola in little glass bottles.

We wait for the governor to call her out, which he does after

a long introduction where he tells folks he’ll lure back the

factories if he’s graced with another term. Mama stands beside

him and just by the way she’s got her head cocked you can tell

she ain’t impressed.

“I met Elvis once,” is what she’ll tell me later. I hear it every time

she meets anybody with any sparkle. “I met Elvis once, and this

yahoo ain’t no Elvis.” You can’t blame the governor, who’s a nice

enough looking man. Mama’s bar’s been set way too high.

When the governor holds out his hand, Mama shakes it and then

moves behind the podium.

“I been a Southerner since I first drew breath,” she says. “Almost

thirty years ago,” she adds, and a few of the lady reporters laugh.

Mama cuts them a look, but it don’t slow her down none. “I voted

for Governor Sidell over here the last time I cast a ballot, which I

know now may have been collusion or fraud or some other high

crime or misdemeanor, since I ain’t sure which state I’m supposed

to vote in. But I know my daddy fought for this country, and my

granddaddy’s people come here so long ago there’s a whole road

named after us up near the capitol. And now Missouri, a state I

believe was officially Union during the Civil War, which makes

it Northern if you ask me, wants me to pay double taxes on my

house, which is all I got since Merritt walked out on me and

plighted his troth with a woman who ain’t been to church since

that peanut farmer was in the White House.

“So I don’t know what you rocket scientists plan to do about it,”

she says, staring right at the mayor and the city council, and on

over to the county judge, who has the good sense to look away,

“but I got heart palpitations because of it, I surely do.”

And then the mayor, who’s all puffed up and red faced, says,

“Mrs. Hagan, not to belabor the point, but you still owe the city

and the county back taxes for going on three years.”

Which ain’t the right thing to say at all. Mama takes out her

hankie and wipes her brow, and then inches her way to the long

table. She swigs some Coca-Cola, and slumps into the fold-out

chair. She lays her head down, and the bowl of peanuts spills

when she pounds her fist on the shiny wood.

Then the governor steps in.

“My widowed mother plowed the fields with her own hands,

grew rows of tomatoes and peppers and squash. She canned

the bounty of summer so that we might live through another

stark winter, and sewed all our clothes, right down to our

skivvies,” he says. “Plus, she worked in Harvey’s Five and Dime

six days a week, selling sundries to the town folk of Brightwater.

So I know the hardship and tribulation of the single mother. Had

it not been for my own sainted mother’s wisdom and sacrifice, I

would not be where I am today.

“This woman,” he says, and points to the lump that is now my

mama, “works in a factory all day, weary from the effort, and

comes home to a house divided.

back story | 63

“We, as a state,” he says, and then stops. “No, we as a people,”

he says a little louder and stomps his foot on the pine floor so

hard you can feel it shimmy down the long aisle, “should not

allow one of our best citizens to live this way.”

Well, Mama don’t work in no factory. She gives shampoos at

Willie Bean’s Stylin’ Emporium, but she perks up just the same.

She sniffs, and sneaks one of the spilled peanuts, and looks as

offended as an honorable woman ought.

And then the mayor jumps in. “My thoughts, exactly,” he says.

He was stalling, his fingers wiggling, his eyes darting around.

“That’s why we…”

The governor takes over. “That’s why we’re moving Mrs. Hagan

and her fine family back onto Arkansas soil. We’ll pay whatever’s

owed on her house, donate the homestead to Missouri, and let

them do with it what they will.”

Mama stands up and grabs the governor, who she didn’t vote

for, since she ain’t registered, and hugs him around the neck.

Her makeup leaves a stain on his shirt collar, something the

photographers seem to love.

Me and Brodie step into the picture then, and Brodie makes

a face like a frog, and they put it on the front page of the

Swamptown Sentinel the very next morning.

So now we’re packing. Our new house has a washer and dryer

and a microwave oven. It was a repo, but that don’t bother

us none. Mama, she’s off registering to vote, and then she’s

meeting with a reporter who wants to go with us on moving

day when we return victorious, the sons and daughter of the

Natural State or the Land of Opportunity, whichever one is the

happening slogan for Arkansas right about now.

Brodie’s going back to school, training to work on furnaces and

air coolers, down at the technical school.

“I’m gonna be a HVAC expert,” Brodie says, while making

the letters with his arms. He looks like those guys that sung

“Y.M.C.A.,” though he lacks the costumes. I start to make fun of

him, but Brodie’s a bear of a guy, 275 pounds, so he can do

whatever he wants.

Things will be different in the new house. I’ll have a room all my

own. And the Ladies of the Garden, a snooty group that puts on

a scone tasting every spring, are coming over to plant a tree in

our new yard. It’s an apple tree, which I thought was the official

state fruit, but no, that’s a tomato – go figure - and I’m going to

water it every day.

Mama’s even talking about going back and getting her

hairdresser’s license, something she says she’s been hankering to

do since before Brodie come along. So all in all, this house mess

has been one of the best dang things that ever happened to us.

Brodie’s in the back room with me right now. We got a grocery

box full of fireworks that we couldn’t shoot off on the Fourth of

July last year, because the drought hit and the mayor banned

any celebration, thinking one of his citizens might set the town

afire. Brodie’s pulling out the Roman candles, and he’s taking

them out to the front lawn where we couldn’t never get grass to

grow. Come nightfall, he says, he’s going put on a light show the

likes of which Missouri ain’t never seen.

I don’t think it’s the best idea – it’s still mighty dry - but then I

don’t know a better way to say goodbye. I dig out the Freedom

Fountain we were dreaming of lighting last Independence

Day. It’s five feet tall, all red, white and blue on the outside,

and promises to shoot streams of majesty across the sky for

five whole minutes. When the sun sinks down I’m going to be

right beside Brodie, two Arkansas boys who was brought back

into the fold by the top dog in the state. I hope the sky lights

up tonight like it ain’t never done before. I hope it’s so blinky

bright the Missouri governor runs to his big picture window way

out in Jefferson City and has a few seconds of jittery surprise,

wondering what kind of party is going on over there on what

used to be the borderline of the great state of Arkansas.

64 | back story

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