About 18 years ago our twin sons participated in a national canoe race their father had competed in when he was in high school.
This took place on the White River cutting through the state of Arkansas. It turned out to be one of those summers that went down in the memory book for one of the best times the four of us spent together. Of course, I was a nervous wreck. Clay was competing in the old timer's category, leaving me from one leg to another by myself waiting to see them round the bend safe and sound.
One of the small towns we stopped in was Calico Rock. This town had a main street like Washington Street in Franklinton, with store fronts joined on both sides. The buildings were made of limestone and rock blown out of the cliffs bordering the large river. One of these stores was a malt shop, another was a shoe store, and the next one was the Chamber of Commerce.
As we waited for the canoers to arrive, a large storm bubbled up darkening the sky and splashing lightning across the tree line. I became so upset waiting in the malt shop that the folks there walked me next door to the chamber of commerce and printed out the storm report in conjunction with where the boys were on the river. A town of total strangers made me feel safe and welcome.
After that day Clay and I talked about this little town tucked away in the middle of Arkansas. Over the years I would mention it to people who lived in the state, and they weren't sure where I was talking about. From time to time the twins would bring it up and we would all share a smile.
This summer Clay and I were up in Hannibal Missouri when we realized we had a couple of extra days to figure out what we wanted to do. So, we decided we would cut down through the middle of Missouri and into the northern part of Arkansas to check out that once beloved town tucked away on the outskirts of the Ozarks. Our morning drive took us down multiple gravel roads, two- lane highways, more gravel roads, and more two-lane highways revealing some of the most stunning valleys and farmlands we had ever seen.
Towns grow and expand over the years. Clay was concerned we might disturb a 4th of July parade being that was the day we would arrive. As we neared the destination on our map, I decided I might need to touch up my makeup and brush my ponytail before we chose where we would have our lunch before eating the legendary ice cream we had remembered.
And then we arrived or so Siri said we had, but we were sitting on top of a deserted hill that was a K-12th grade brown brick school. I tried to google the White River because we remembered the town was on the bank. Siri actually said, "I don't know where you are." There was a gas station that was closed. It had a painting on the glass of a hamburger saying Between the Buns Restaurant. We finally did weave around to find the wide opened line of limestone stores shut down for the 4th of July, we assumed. We were the only vehicle in the whole town. Mannequins still stood outside of two stores with clothes still on them. There were no signs in the windows saying they would be closed. It was like everyone ran and hid.
In fact, the only thing new about this town which had actually shrunk in the two decades was an enormous rocking chair on the sidewalk. Clay had me get up in it and pose for a picture to send the boys when our phones once again had service. We could not stop laughing as our stomachs growled. We had no idea how to even direct ourselves out of a town even Siri had forgotten. So, we drove east and made our way to Memphis, giving up on the Arkansas adventure. I guess there are some parts of our country still untouched by time and closed for the holiday.
