Category: Photo Stories

Bob Taylor

Bella Vista, AR

Fall in the Ozarks

Kelly Syer

Monte Ne ruins in Rogers, Arkansas

I remember as a child hearing stories from my mom about the fascinating Ozark character and once presidential candidate Coin Harvey–and his attempt at building his own version of a utopian-like resort in Rogers, Arkansas. He eventually believed civilization was doomed and started creating a pyramid time capsule, but never completed it after going broke around the time of the stock market crash and Great Depression. Generations later most of it would be under water after the creation of Beaver Lake, though in dry spells some of the architectural ghosts become more visible and a source of adventure for the curious. I love that those stories haunted me as a child growing up in the Ozarks, and I enjoyed passing along the place and its lore to my own daughter. To me, this photo symbolizes what can be the fleeting nature of dreams…our impermanence. Pictured is a ruined portion of one of the old Monte Ne structures, victim to graffiti and the ravages of time–still standing for a few more generations, but with a disappearing story.

Laurie Marshall

Fayetteville, AR – Habberton Community

My grandmother Bernelle Louise (Wilson) Whillock was born in a house a half mile from this one in the early 1920s. Her daddy, Knox, was gifted a piece of the family farm, as were each of his 4 brothers, but he was the only one who didn’t build on his. Instead, when my grandmother was grown and raising five children of her own, she talked my grandfather into building a “cabin” on it for the weekends. It turned into a two-story, full-time house, whether grandpa liked it or not.

This house, built by my grandpa, Everett Whillock, overlooks the White River where it turns into Beaver Lake. It holds memories of Christmases in front of the huge stone fireplace, summer nights in the iron bed with box fans humming in the hallway and cicadas in the oak trees, painting faces on rocks while grandma painted clocks and spice cabinets to sell at War Eagle Craft Fair, homemade pie and canned tomatoes. The barn, and the dry creek, and the bluff and the bottom lands are the places of my most happy childhood memories.

When my mother died, she had only purchased the house from her mother’s estate a couple of years earlier, and none of us could afford a second mortgage, so the house and property were lost. I check real estate listings regularly, hoping I can have another chance one day.

Steven Jones

This photo was taken in December, 1978. My parents bought some land outside of Springdale to raise horses and build a house. At the time, the property was way out in the country along a dirt road that ran through forests and a valley with a vibrant creek. The natural beauty of the Ozarks surrounded us and defined my childhood.

Today, the image is very different. I-49 cuts through the landscape in the background of this photo. Billboards interfere with the view. The night sky is no longer dark. Development in the Ozarks has irreversibly modified the land and identity.

The forest has reclaimed where I’m standing in the photo. Black walnut trees and woodpeckers have taken back the farmland. Although much has changed, our ancient, beautiful black walnut trees next to the house are still standing and defending the landscape.

Laurel Starling-McIntosh

Wilson Park, Fayetteville, Arkansas

Every fall, these ‘ghosties’ appear in our yard on Wilson Park. It’s a friendly reminder of the fun and folic our dear neighborhood has to offer. Children and adults comment and cheer each autumn when they appear.

Tareneh Manning

The North Forest (Crystal Bridges Museum)

This is how I Ozark. Or is it OzArt? Walking in the mist, through the forest, and singing words that have no form to magical trees. This one is ENLIGHTENING and sings back. She tells me I’m Emerald. But all I remember are these dreams in the mist.