Haunt Jaunt

This week, I am back visiting areas in the Ozark region of southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas.  As I sit typing out my Two Thoughts For Tuesday, I am a bit pressed for time.  Hubby and I have been hanging out in America's Most Haunted Hotel for the last couple of days and are going to go out on a ghost hunt tonight.  Chances are I will have to fill you in on the results of our hunt sometime later tonight.  For now I will give you  a little history of the 1886 Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

Thought Number One:   The 1886 Crescent Hotel

Built in 1886, the Crescent Hotel and Spa was built by Irish stonemasons in the Ozark Mountain town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.  When the doors opened, the hotel catered to the “carriage set” of people living in and traveling through the town during the Victorian Era. It was a destination for the rich and famous. Tea dances were held in the afternoon while dance parties were held at night, with music from the in-house orchestra. For many years, the hotel enjoyed prosperity as a year-round resort for those seeking the healing properties of the springs that seem to be abundant all over Arkansas.

By 1908, the hotel was in decline and was opened as the Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Women. It catered to wealthy young women while still
catering to the tourist crowd, but neither this nor the astronomical tuition charged to the students was enough to keep up with the constant upkeep and repairs needed. The school closed in 1924.  In 1930 it reopened as a junior college for four years.
It wasn't until 1937 that The Crescent Hotel entered it's most notorious period.

The Mountains That Aren't

For the last several days I have been thinking about writing a blog post about one of my favorite areas in the world.  The problem with writing about "favorites" of anything is that that words don't always measure up to the affection you have for your topic.

A year and a half ago, in a moment of "less than brilliant but slightly more than imbecilic" I decided to start a blog. In January of 2011,  I wasn't yet aware that because of my blog, I would meet some people online that would become FRIENDS.   Yes, actual friends.

One of my early readers was young woman (way younger than me, but then....who isn't?) named Jewell.  It turned out that Jewell and I share a similar sense of humor (you find that surprising that I have a sense of humor??), our disdain for moronic behavior, our interest in reading odd news stories, our sarcastic and cynical take on nearly any topic, ...and the beauty we find in the area of the Ozarks.

I have done several posts in the past talking about times I have spent with my paternal relatives that live or did live in the Ozark Mountains. A couple of those are:   Do I Talk Funny? or Celebrating Life
Jewell has the good fortune to travel around the Ozarks taking pictures and  the added good fortune of being a very (I can't emphasize this enough) VERY talented photographer. Her pictures bring me back to the region "in spirit" far more often that I physically get to go there for visits. 

She recently sent me some pictures from the area of Blanchard Springs, Arkansas.  Before I show you those, perhaps you are curious as to what the geographical area that is considered Ozarks and where Jewell went on her picture-taking excursion.

The Ozarks consist of four primary sections: the Springfield Plateau, Salem Plateau, Saint Francois Mountains, and Boston Mountains. Topography is mostly gently rolling, except in the Boston Mountains, along the escarpments separating the Springfield and Salem Plateaus, and the Saint Francois Range where it is rugged. The area has a number of springs and caves. They are common in the limestone of the Springfield Plateau and abundant in the bedrock of the Salem Plateau and Boston Mountains

While some people refer to that area as Ozark Mountains, the region is actually comprised of a  dissected plateau that is surrounded by some small mountain ranges.  The bulk of the Ozark region is in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas.




There is an old saying: It's not that the Ozark Mountains are high, it is that the
Ozark valleys are deep. BTW this photo isn't one of Jewell's.  I
should of had the foresight to ask her if she had a good view of the
hills.


Columbia Electronic Encyclopedia gives a fairly concise description of the Ozarks.

The Ozarks or the Ozark Plateau, upland region, actually a dissected plateau, aprox. 50,000 sq mi (129,500 sq km), chiefly in S Mo. and N Ark., but partly in Oklahoma and Kansas, between the Arkansas and Missouri rivers. The Ozarks, which rise from the surrounding plains, are locally referred to as mountains. Composed of igneous rock overlain by limestone and dolomite, the ancient land form has been worn down by erosion. Summits (knobs) are found wherever there is a resistant rock outcrop; the Boston Mts. are the highest and most rugged section, with several peaks more than 2,000 ft (610 m) high. The Ozarks are rich in lead and zinc, and fruit-growing areas are prevalent. Subsistence farming and household crafts are found in the more isolated regions. The Ozarks have several large lakes that were created by dams across the White and Black rivers; the dams generate electricity. The scenic Ozarks, with forests, streams, and mineral springs, are a popular tourist region, and the construction of summer homes there has grown.

This is where Blanchard Springs is:

 

 

Blanchard Springs is located in the Ozark National Forest. 

Most of the perennial springs in Arkansas with the largest flows are located in the Ozark Plateaus region. With an average flow about 150,000 GPM, Mammoth Spring in Fulton County has the largest yield of any spring in the state. Blanchard Springs can have a flow up to about 103,000 GPM depending on rainfall amounts.

 

Blanchard Springs Caverns is a three-level cave system, two of which are open for guided tours. The Dripstone Trail runs through the upper level of the caverns. The Discovery Trail on the second level opened in 1977 and runs through the middle of the cavern. Also offered is a "Wild Cave" tour which allows access to undeveloped parts of the cave to more adventurous visitors.

The temperature is a constant, year-round 58°F (14°C). The limestone rock from which the caves and their formations developed was laid down in an ancient sea more than 350 million years ago. It remains a "living" cave in part because of the care given by visitors and the United States Forest Service. Living caves are ones in which slow metamorphosis due to minerals deposited by seeping and dripping water is still in process.

These are just too pretty for words.  By the way...Jewell has several web sites that carry her photographs.

Here is a quick link to Lenstripping Photography



And last but not least...one more thing that Jewell and I have in common.  Pictures of Old Mills. She takes them and I adore the pictures she takes.

How could you not love these reminders of a different time...sitting quietly unused for years.. This old mill has lost it's wheel and stands alone in it's solitary decay. 

Here is a poem to go with the old mill picture.

The old rusty mill is still, Maggie
I wandered today to the hill, Maggie,
To watch the scene below.
The creek and the old rusty mill, Maggie,
Where we sat in the long, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie,
Where first the daisies sprung.
The old rusty mill is still, Maggie,
Since you and I were young.

Those words are from "When You and I Were Young, Maggie", written as a poem by George W. Johnson, a Canadian,  for his fiancee, Margaret "Maggie" Clark in 1820. George was a school teacher and Maggie was his pupil. They fell in love and became engaged but she contracted tuberculosis. Shortly after they married, Maggie passed away.

Celebrating a Life

A few weeks ago, I went to Arkansas to visit my 100 year old Grandma.  She was being her sweet perky self, full of smiles and laughing at her own funny remarks.  She could really crack herself up. She was funny.  She, also, was a great story teller, a wonderful cook, could play the guitar, (although she would have called it "pickin" the guitar).

During that visit, she was talking about her longevity. (or mortality depending on how you look at it)  Somewhere in that conversation she made the statement,   "I've been sitting on the top of this mountain for quite awhile now and the Lord has yet to come by and knock me off."

She is off the mountain at long last.  While, you wouldn't think that the death of someone that is coming up on 101, would be unexpected...but yes, this was very unexpected.  She had a slip in her bedroom and fell.  As a precaution, my uncle took her in to have her checked.  After a myriad of tests, the doctor said they didn't see anything wrong.  Call, me a skeptic but the dying part leads me to think that maybe the tests were "inconclusive".

I know she was ready.  She was happy and secure with her mortality, her faith and the love of her family.  I think that makes losing someone easier, knowing they were ready.

My Grandma was born, raised and lived her entire in the Ozark Region of Arkansas.  She rarely left the state as she wasn't willing to ever take the chance she would die anywhere other than the hills of the Ozarks.  My Grandma raised my brother and I the first 10 years of our lives at which time,  we left to live with one of our parents.  (long complicated story) Therefore, I had the opportunity to come to appreciate how she LOVED where she came from.

Last week, my family made the drive to participate in the celebration of her life.  For all the years I lived and visited in the foothills of the Ozark mountains, I can tell you that it is a beautiful place. While you might not appreciate the terrain from the inside the the car, the Ozarks are quite pretty.  You will especially not be a fan if you are prone to motion sickness.




There are miles of hills and curves going into Northern Arkansas



More twists and turns...are you car sick yet???



You will see springs and rivers



Hills and valleys...As the old saying goes...The Ozark Mountains
aren't high, it is that the Ozark valleys are deep.



More springs.....



To our little old cemetery where my Grandpa and Grandma and my  Great Grandparents and a host of others assorted "kin" rest. 

This week will be a week of memories and nostalgia.  I consider myself a lucky person to have had my grandparent this long and have roots in a place that was loved and appreciated.

A Little Bit of Heaven

Two Thoughts for Tuesday

Thought Number One:  When did crossing the Mississippi lose it's thrill?

My childhood was spent living in two distinctly different regions of the U.S. To understand this "two region" existence, you would have to know the background of my family.

My father was born and raised in Arkansas.  The farthest he would have ever been away from home up until his adulthood,  would be the 30 miles or so across the line into southern Missouri. He was part of an enormous extended family made up of 15 aunts and uncles and "god-only-knows" how many cousins he had. Like the rest of his family he thought Arkansas was the most beautiful place on earth.  The problem was in the late 1940's and early 50's  he realized you couldn't make a decent living working in the cotton gins of the south.  There were union jobs to be had in Chicago as the nation was booming in the post World War economy.

My mother's family were all born and raised Chicagoans.  My mother's parents had always lived in the urban areas around Chicago and would have (and did) think that the my dad's people were hicks.  Well, technically, they considered them "hillbillies" which today would not be considered politically correct.

Never the less, my dad moved to Chicago and met my mother, married and had two kids. It was not a marriage that was "made in heaven" as their worlds were just too far apart. 

My father was always an Arkansas son and we drove the 9 hours to Arkansas dozens of times any given year and on a couple of occassions we moved back to live for a period of time. My dad was devoted to his family and called his parents momma and daddy right up until the time he passed away in 1995. My grandfather passed away a few years after that,  but my grandma remains in the state she was born and has lived for all of  her 98 years. There was a time that she would take little trips to see other parts of the world but no more.  She doesn't want to get far from home.

My grandma still believes that Arkansas is really the only state worth being in and she wouldn't want to take a chance being elsewhere in case she would die.  These are her thoughts not mine. I will tell you that you might try to argue the point that there are other lovely areas of the country but as far as arguing with this cute little 98 year old woman, you are sure to lose. 

So anyway back to my point of  my first thought of today's post.... as a little girl I was quite familiar with the route between southern Chicago and northern Arkansas. The highlight of the trip was always crossing the Mississippi bridge at Cairo, Illinois. It didn't matter what time of day or night we came to the bridge, my brother and I would watch with awe as we made our way over that bridge. In those days, in the eyes of a child that was the most magnificent river on the planet. AND that bridge was something to behold.

I have since crossed the Mississippi thousands of times.  We have lived in the Quad Cities, Hannibal, Mo., St. Louis, Mo  and Collinsville, Il. which all sit on or near the banks of the Mississippi. On any given day we would have driven over the river to get to our jobs, to shop, to run errands and it became routine.  No awe, no thrill, just a way to get where we needed to be.  Somewhere between my childhood and my life as a grown up, the excitement of crossing that bridge (or other bridges like it) vanished.

Now on to Thought number Two: The Views of My Childhood in Photographs

Even as a little girl, I realized the vast difference in the topography of the Illinois, Missouri and Arkansas.  I used to bombard my dad with questions like "why is the dirt red instead of black here?" ( while in the south) or "why is there corn in all the fields instead of cotton?" ( while in the north) The answer is always the same.  That is the difference between the Ozarks and every where else.


So a couple of months ago, I started seeing pictures posted over at Really?! Wait! What? of areas that look just like the areas I played as a child.  Areas where the mineral springs bubbled out of the ground and made wonderful swimming holes or little creeks that wound through the yards.  These photographs reflect an area that time has hardly touched  in the 50 years or so since I made those trips so my dad could see his momma and daddy. 

There were other pictures as well that capture the very essence of the Ozarks.  I think Jewell has about 200 or so of the most extraordinary pictures of the area that it has ever been my pleasure to see. I encourage you to jump over to her blog and take a peek.  Even if you don't have a historical need to see the tin roof of a shotgun house, you will surely find some pictures that move you.

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This house is in the Ozark area of Ark.



The Good for the Day....The ability that some people (like Jewell) have to capture pieces of art in the lense of a camera.

The Bad for the Day...losing the wonder and awe that we experienced as children.

The Weird for the Day...As a kid, I thought the little shotgun houses were so cute. I had a great aunt that had a double shotgun house and thought she must be rich.  Today the thought of living in a house with this floor plan gives me the shakes.