Little Rock educator Robert Brown’s Afrocentric approach fostered community bonds that have lasted decades. By Frederick McKindra
36
THEY WON’T CAVE
Cavers want in on the Buffalo National River’s offerings, but regulations keep them out. By Michael Ray Taylor
45 READERS CHOICE 2025
Your favorite bites in Arkansas (plus a few of ours).
46
EAT ACROSS AFRICA
Afrobites serves up delicious African cuisine. By Milo Strain
52 COLD COMFORT
For the truly dedicated, North Little Rock serves frozen treats in all seasons. By Stephanie Smittle
54 FLAKE
OUT
The Croissanterie’s fresh pastries will butter you up. By Phillip Powell
60
DO-NUT MISS IT
An ode to Mark’s, a Levy institution that makes the best glazed around. By Daniel Grear
66 ROLL MODELS
Aaron and Yusuke Jackson grew up in the shadow of Mt. Fuji, Little Rock’s first sushi restaurant. Now, they own it. By Rhett
Brinkley
72 CHOICE
PICKS
The results of our annual restaurant poll.
8 THE FRONT
From the Publisher: Critical thinking. Q&A: Mouaz Moustafa of Conway sends his love to Syria. Inconsequential News Quiz: Test your local news IQ.
17
THE TO-DO LIST
Shovels & Rope at the Rev Room, Maddy Kirgo and Whoa Dakota at the White Water Tavern, “Rivera’s Paris” at the Arkansas Museum of Fine Art, “Modern Romance” at Riverdale 10, Red Hot Hairpins at Club 27 and more.
24
NEWS & POLITICS
Robbing poor children to give to the rich. By Baker Kurrus
82 CULTURE
Remembering playwright Werner Trieschmann. By Douglas A. Blackmon
86 CANNABIZ
Can cannabis cure female orgasmic disorder? By Griffin Coop
90 THE OBSERVER
Reflections on a snowy weekend.
ON THE COVER: Brothers Aaron and Yusuke Jackson conquer Mt. Fuji. Photo by Sara Reeves, art direction by Mandy Keener.
HIDDEN NATURE: Michael Ray Taylor, left, Sarah Heiser, center, and retired cave specialist Chuck Bitting pause to inspect the entrance to Mud Cave in north Arkansas.
PUBLISHER Alan Leveritt
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Austin Gelder
CREATIVE DIRECTOR Mandy Keener
MANAGING EDITOR Benjamin Hardy
PRINT EDITOR Dan Marsh
FOOD EDITOR Rhett Brinkley
CANNABIZ EDITOR Griffin Coop
DAILY EDITOR Lara Farrar
CULTURE EDITOR Daniel Grear
INVESTIGATIVE REPORTER Matt Campbell
AGRI AND ENVIRONMENT REPORTER Phillip Powell REPORTER Milo Strain
VIBE CHECKER Stephanie Smittle
EDITOR EMERITUS Max Brantley
CONTRIBUTING EDITOR Mara Leveritt
PHOTOGRAPHER Brian Chilson
DIGITAL MARKETING MANAGER Madeline Chosich
DIRECTOR OF DEVELOPMENT Wythe Walker
ADVERTISING ART DIRECTOR Mike Spain
GRAPHIC DESIGNER Katie Hassell
DIRECTOR OF ADVERTISING/ SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS PUBLISHER Brooke Wallace
ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES
Terrell Jacob, Kaitlyn Looney and Evan Ethridge
ADVERTISING TRAFFIC MANAGER Roland R. Gladden
SPECIAL SECTION MANAGING EDITOR Caleb Patton
EVENTS DIRECTOR Donavan Suitt
DIRECTOR OF CANNABIS SALES AND MARKETING Lee Major
Experience Dogwood Canyon’s new Guided Winter Watch Tour! Enjoy a cozy enclosed shuttle ride through the canyon with chances to spot bald eagles, bison, elk, and more — perfect for nature lovers and photographers alike.
Dogwood Canyon Nature Park is proudly part of the Johnny Morris Conservation Foundation.
A CRITICAL RACE TO TEACH THE TRUTH
TO UNDERSTAND CRITICAL RACE THEORY, FIRST UNDERSTAND ARKANSAS HISTORY.
BY ALAN LEVERITT
Icame close to graduating from college, damn close in fact. Last I looked (about 30 years ago) I was three hours and an overdue parking ticket short of a history degree from UA Little Rock. But even though I remain a doubtful scholar, I am a devoted student of Arkansas history and its ability to instruct us regarding some very big issues facing our country.
I am, of course, talking about critical race theory.
Army 1st Lt. J.P. Leveritt came back from World War II, got his master’s degree in physical education and in 1950, along with my mother, built one of the first houses in Lakewood in North Little Rock for $8,000. Thus began my family’s long and beneficial association with critical race theory.
To paraphrase the Oxford American Dictionary, critical race theory argues that many of our social and economic institutions have been created for and by white people. Those institutions, many dating back almost a century, were designed to lift white people up and keep Black people down. I am a direct benefiMAPPED OUT: Believed to be circa 1945, a map illustrates redlining practices in the Little Rock area. Red means Black neighborhood and no loans, while green means white neighborhood and access to FHA loans.
ciary of that system.
When President Franklin Roosevelt tried to create the Federal Housing Administration as part of the New Deal, his proposal to make home ownership accessible to ordinary people through federal home loan guarantees met with opposition from members of both parties. What we take for granted today was just one step from communism then. Southern Democrats ultimately agreed to support the establishment of a Federal Housing Administration on the condition that Black citizens be excluded. Now white people could more easily become homeowners and Black people could more easily become renters.
Boll Weevils and learned deep tissue massage as a trainer. He was headed to North Africa as a medic but through a series of happy accidents, wound up in the White House as President Truman’s masseuse and private trainer.
When my parents bought their home in Lakewood, they had to sign a covenant never to sell to Black buyers. This was an actual FHA requirement. Had they not signed, the FHA would have refused to guarantee them any loans in Lakewood. If Black people could move into Lakewood, the property values there would crater, putting the FHA loans at risk, was the explanation.
Another FHA innovation was to rate neighborhoods based on class and race, the thought being that neighborhoods occupied by Black people were too risky for government guaranteed loans. The Little Rock/North Little Rock redline map is color-coded, with green neighborhoods approved for FHA loans and red neighborhoods (predominantly African American) ineligible for bank loans. Thus the son of Lakewood homeowners inherits $175,000 upon his mother’s death in 2012, while the Black son of Rose City renters gets nothing.
This is an example of critical race theory in action. The primary source of intergenerational wealth is home equity. Even though Black households earn 60% of what white households earn, they only have 5% as much wealth. That wealth should have come from home ownership, which never occurred because the game was rigged.
My dad had a good war. He grew up in Smackover and went to Arkansas A&M at Monticello, where he played for the Rambling
As with all vets after the war, the GI Bill allowed him to further his education and receive low-interest home loans among other benefits. But while the language of the GI Bill was inclusive of all vets, it was administered by the states, which meant that Black vets, especially in the Jim Crow South, received on average 70% of the benefits their white comrades did. Despite the GI Bill of 1944 offering free college education, it was 11 years before the first Black veteran enrolled as an undergraduate in a state-supported college in Arkansas with the exception of all-Black Arkansas AM&N. Up to then, they were directed to vocational schools if at all. The low-interest home loans the GI Bill provided weren’t much help, either. Because Black veterans could not live in white neighborhoods and Black neighborhoods were redlined, they seldom could get a loan to buy a house where they were permitted to live. Discrimination for FHA mortgages and GI benefits has in part been remedied by various civil rights laws, many of them from President Lyndon Johnson’s time. But to understand the great economic disparity between the races, we need to know history, especially Arkansas history. The economic disparities we see today are a direct result of what happened years ago when we came up with race-based barriers to education and wealth.
Why would our Legislature and governor try to disappear this history? Why would they try to decertify an Advanced Placement African American Studies class in our high schools, or discourage honest study of systems that set some of us up to thrive but left others to struggle? Their argument that if we teach these facts, some white child might be made to feel guilty is pure nonsense.
Get over it. It’s our history. Teach our kids the truth and maybe they will be better people than we are.
THE UPBEAT WAY TO SPEND YOUR WORKDAY
‘THE MISSION IS TO HELP’
MOUAZ MOUSTAFA BUILDS A BRIDGE FROM ARKANSAS TO SYRIA.
Mouaz Moustafa was 9 when he and his family moved from Syria to the United States and eventually settled in Arkansas. Three decades later, Moustafa, now 40, is executive director of the Syrian Emergency Task Force, working to restore freedom to war-torn Syria and bring food, medicine, education and other support to Syrians besieged for years by the recently ousted dictator Bashar al-Assad, Russia and Iran.
What led your family to Arkansas? My uncle wanted to see the World Cup in 1994. My dad went with him and applied as well. My uncle was denied the visa, but my dad got a tourist visa. My dad’s plane ticket took him to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where someone told him a Syrian American had a Ramada Inn in Fort Smith. My dad got a work authorization and worked at that hotel for a while. After a year, we moved to Hot Springs, where I graduated from high school.
FAVORITE BOOK? I love the Harry Potter books, and I like this one autobiography by Muhammad Ali who is inspiring to me. I also love “One Hundred Years of Solitude” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and I like “Elephant Company” by Vicki Constantine Croke.
Describe the goals of the Syrian Emergency Task Force. From its inception in 2011 until December, when Assad was overthrown, SETF’s main goals were stopping the killing in Syria, ending the atrocities and massacres that I believe are the worst things that have happened in the 21st century. SETF is now focused on the lifting of sanctions that hinder the road to democracy for Syria. SETF also aims to make sure we help Syria memorialize its victims, its concentration camps, its mass graves, to remind the world that “never again” needs to be something not just said, but implemented. I have family and friends that I am 99.99% certain are gone, but I want to know where their bodies are, to give them proper burial. That’s what every family wants: closure. We also help with accountability by helping with multiple Syrian-related criminal cases. SETF’s mission is evolving as Syria evolves. Now the mission is to help Syria become the first Arab democracy.
ANY HOBBIES? I love playing soccer. I also love scuba diving and snorkeling.
WHAT DO YOU WATCH OR LISTEN TO WHEN TRAVELING? A lot of news. I also listen to all kinds of music, everything from Bob Marley to Johnny Cash. I love reggae music, and some North African Raï and Arabic music.
resulted from torture and mass murder, he began smuggling out photographic evidence on a flash drive. After his own life became endangered, he fled Syria with the flash drive in his sock and went into hiding.)
Tell us how you learned of Assad’s ouster. When Assad was ousted, I was on a phone call talking to people on the ground about what was happening. One of the first phone calls I made was to Caesar. He was in tears of joy over what was happening, and then I spoke to my family and SETF staff members. I went to Syria a few days after liberation. It was beautiful to see the liberation of major cities with millions of people like Damascus and Aleppo.
Did you see any mass graves? It is difficult to describe how I felt when I saw them. I cried a lot. To think that maybe my uncle or friends or family or other amazing people may be buried right there ... It’s tough to walk knowing that these pure souls are underneath your feet. But it was important to go as we highlight the importance of protecting these areas and then working with others to exhume these graves and use rapid DNA testing to give families closure.
Tell me about your friend who died recently at the Assad regime’s hands. You’re referring to Mazen Al Hamada, who had visited the Clinton School of Public Service in Little Rock. The last call he made out of the Damascus airport where he was arrested by the Assad regime was to Natalie Larrison, SETF’s Little Rock-based director of humanitarian programs and outreach. Mazen loved Arkansas ... he was an amazing person lured back by the Assad regime and murdered only days before final liberation. I hope that in those final moments he knew that Syria was being liberated.
Your work takes you around the world. In the past year, where did you travel? I went to Syria over half a dozen times and to Turkey, Jordan and Iraq en route to Syria. This work also has taken us to Europe, Asia, Canada and beyond so that we could share our Caesar exhibit, a photographic display documenting the atrocities and mass graves in Syria. (Caesar is a pseudonym for the Syrian military photographer whom the Assad regime conscripted to take pictures of civilians who died in military detention. After Caesar realized the deaths had
Has SETF had much support from Arkansans? So, so many Arkansans have helped, both those who have visited Syria and those who have not. Thank God for the leadership of Natalie and Jerry Adams, Brett Hardison, Pamela Wooder George and Teri Daily. At the beginning, there was just the Wisdom House working group. It led to the Wisdom House School, Tomorrow’s Dawn Women’s Center and the Women’s High School. It’s also how support for the House of Healing came about, and the Hope Pharmacy in the Rukban camp. Congressman French Hill has been amazing. And nurse Henry Van Lierop of Conway treated people at the Rukban camp. —Debra Hale-Shelton
TEST YOUR KNOWLEDGE
GRAB A GLASS OF RAW MILK AND SETTLE IN. IT’S TIME TO QUIZ.
1. The owner of Central Arkansas burger chain David’s Burgers submitted a proposal to North Little Rock officials to start a new business venture in an industrial park. What type of business does he propose?
A. A manufacturing plant for playing cards with the faces of Arkansas legislators
B. A cryptocurrency called “ArkCoin” featuring the image of a catfish holding a Bowie knife
C. A petting zoo featuring goats, sheep and one kangaroo
D. A slaughterhouse
2. In January, Gov. Sarah Sanders delivered her “State of the State” address as the General Assembly convened. How did Sanders describe Arkansas?
A. A progressive paradise that welcomes everyone
B. The future of American awesomeness
C. A welcoming place of equality and inclusiveness
D. The vanguard of a conservative revolution
3. Early this year, newly elected Arkansas Supreme Court Chief Justice Karen Baker attempted to fire 10 longtime court employees. Who got in her way?
A. Hippies from Newton County in search of tie-dyed T-shirts
B. Banjo players asking for directions to
Mountain View
C. A wild band of coyotes searching for food in freezing weather
D. A majority of state Supreme Court justices
4. Arkansas officials are closely monitoring avian flu, also known as bird flu. What did Arkansas Game and Fish Commission staff recommend hunters do to mitigate the concerns?
A. Kindly ask ducks to observe social distancing while flying
B. Apply N-95 masks to all hunting dogs
(Who’s a good boy with his mask on!?)
C. Affix all pickup trucks with anti-bird flu misters
D. Wear gloves while handling and cleaning game
5. A movement is afoot to deregulate raw milk sales in Arkansas. According to the National Institutes of Health, how much more likely is raw milk to cause illness than pasteurized milk?
A. A lot
B. A whole lot
C. Seriously, it’s a lot
D. 840 times more likely
6. Opponents of Gov. Sanders’ plan to build a prison in Franklin County say the facility will cost far more than Sanders’ estimate of $400 million. How much do the opponents say it will cost?
A. More than a LEARNS voucher for horseback riding lessons
B. More than a meal at Bentonville’s
C. More than two Cybertrucks
D. More than $1 billion
7. 500 Grill, the small cafe at the state Capitol, was damaged in a fire last year and was closed. When it reopened in January, it had a new name. What is the new name?
A. Bart Hester’s Rib Shack
B. Thurston’s Thirsty Corner
C. The Rut Hut by Leslie Rutledge
D. Natural State Cafe
8. Later this year, Pope County writer Eli Cranor will publish his fourth novel in four years. The title is “Mississippi Blue 42.” What is it about?
A. A 42-minute performance of Blue Man Group in Jackson, Mississippi
B. A blues musician who left Mississippi for Arkansas 42 years ago
C. A cat named Mississippi Blue
D. An FBI agent caught in a web of college football and the greed that fuels it
Saturday, February 22
Simply
LET THE FEAST BEGIN!
BY DANIEL GREAR, OMAYA JONES AND DAN MARSH
SHOVELS & ROPE
SATURDAY 2/15. REV ROOM. 8 P.M. $25.
Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst, the Charleston, South Carolina, husband-and-wife duo known as Shovels & Rope, blend traditional folk, rock and country rock into a lo-fi concoction that sounds surprisingly raw and live on their 2024 album, “Something Is Working Up Above My Head.” They mix achingly personal stories (“I’d Be Lying”) with spine-chilling dive bar songs (“Colorado River”) that will likely sound at home in the Rev Room. The couple share duties on vocals, guitars, drums and keyboards, their harmonies combining to create eerie yet distinctly Southern soundscapes. The fuzzy guitars are courtesy of Keith Richards via Billy Gibbons; the rhythm section is a grinding stomp through the Mississippi backcountry. Fans of bracingly original Americana shot through with loneliness, desire and empathy (I defy you to listen to “Love Song From a Dog,” which features Gregory Alan Isakov, without tearing up) will want to turn up for the show. Get tickets at revroom.com. DM
‘RIVERA’S PARIS’
FRIDAY 2/7-SUNDAY 5/18. ARKANSAS MUSEUM OF FINE ART. FREE.
MADDY KIRGO, WHOA DAKOTA
THURSDAY 2/13. WHITE WATER TAVERN. 8 P.M. $10.
Maddy Kirgo is the Gar Hole Records artist that has strayed perhaps farthest from the Fayetteville-based label’s broadly folky lane, and I couldn’t be more excited for what that signals about their future growth. Sure, many of Kirgo’s songs on 2024’s “Shadow on My Light” still revolve around the acoustic guitar, but the girlish crackle of her voice as she rides the craggy chorus of “Crush” makes it clear that she has her sights set on pop just as much as she does Americana. Even the sleepy album opener “Spare” has one foot in the ’70s soft-rock piano revival of contemporary artists like Clairo. Come see what she’s all about at the White Water Tavern, where she’ll be joined by Whoa Dakota, the moniker of Little Rock singer-songwriter Jessica Ott. Get tickets at whitewatertavern.com. DG
Gifted to the Arkansas Museum of Fine Arts in 1955 by a member of the Rockefeller family, Diego Rivera’s “Dos Mujeres” (1914) has long been a part of the institution’s permanent collection. Angular yet full of movement, the large painting is a double portrait of two women — one seated in repose, the other standing — that both recede into and stand out from an ambiguous background of natural and architectural shapes in beige and blue. Opening in early February, “Rivera’s Paris” uses “Dos Mujeres” as a jumpingoff point to explore the Mexican painter’s brief but significant foray into Cubism while living in Spain and France during the 1910s. Highlighting work that represents the “full evolution of Rivera’s years in Europe,” the exhibition will also feature pieces from artists that influenced him, like Darío de Regoyos y Valdés, Hermenegildo Anglada Camarasa, Robert Delaunay and Jacques Lipchitz. Also of note: From Feb. 14-March 28, AMFA is offering “Fridays in Rivera’s Paris,” a once-a-week gathering boasting “French dinner specials at Park Grill, live jazz performers and more special surprises across the museum” from 5-8 p.m. DG
After transitioning from stand-up comedy to filmmaking — including directing six shorts for the first season of a newly launched sketch show called “Saturday Night Live” — Albert Brooks made the jump to feature films in the late 1970s. His Valentine’s Day-friendly sophomore effort, “Modern Romance,” sees Brooks casting himself in the lead role of Robert Cole, a film editor in Hollywood who early in the narrative ends his relationship with Mary Harvard (Kathryn Harrold), a bank executive. The two are madly in love, but Cole’s jealousy and doubt drives him to break up with her for fear there might be someone better. Among the many misadventurous strategies he employs to get over his ex: trying to date someone new, experimenting with drugs and attempting to take up running (in a sequence that includes a hilarious cameo by Brooks’ brother, the late Bob Einstein). Released in 1981 and showcasing Brooks’ inimitably wry, self-obsessed and neurotic humor, “Modern Romance” feels as fresh as ever. Get tickets at riverdale10.com. OJ
NO TEARS PROJECT
FRIDAY 2/21. THE CENTER FOR HUMANITIES AND ARTS, UA PULASKI TECH. 7:30 P.M. $20$30.
Initially formed in 2017 when the Oxford American magazine commissioned two Little Rock musicians — pianist Christopher Parker and vocalist Kelley Hurt — to write an extensive jazz composition honoring the 60th anniversary of the Little Rock Nine, the No Tears Project is here to stay. Following collaborations with the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra, drummer Brian Blade and saxophonist Oliver Lake as well as a set of 2024 performances in Tennessee and Mississippi featuring work inspired by civil rights activists Medgar and Myrlie Evers, the social justice-minded collective returns to Central Arkansas for the first time since 2023 for a release show celebrating their second album, “Humanitics,” which is set to come out this month. In addition to Parker and Hurt, ensemble members will include Rodney Jordan (bass), Darrian Douglas (drums), Bobby LaVell (tenor saxophone), Marc Franklin (trumpet), Chad Fowler (alto saxophone) and Treasure Shields Redmond (spoken word). Get tickets at http://uaptc. edu/charts. DG
REAL ESTATE
FRIDAY 2/7. THE MOMENTARY, BENTONVILLE. 8 P.M. $20-$30.
Real Estate certainly wasn’t the first group to make relaxed, jangly indie rock music, but they might have perfected the genre. Painting in hues that blur between melancholy and tranquility, the Brooklyn-based band expertly bottles the ineffability of “suburban ennui,” a phrase frequently used to describe them. Nostalgic bias might be getting the best of me, but I’d argue that “Days,” the 2011 album they released my freshman year of college, is their magnum opus, if such a thing can be said of a band whose modus operandi is to gently fly under the radar. “You're entering this town / Yourself a weeping clown / You play along to songs written for you / But you’re all out of tune,” frontman Martin Courtney sings on standout “Out of Tune,” capturing the feeling of disorientation in a familiar place. Get tickets at themomentary.org. DG
“School of Rock,” the heartfelt 2003 caper starring a career-best Jack Black as a fraudulent prep school substitute teacher who convinces his classroom of rulefollowing fifth-graders to goof off for once and start a face-melting rock band, is essentially a perfect movie. Bolstered by a dynamite cast of basically unknown child actors/musicians and a soundtrack brimming with ’70s and ’80s classics, it’s fun for the whole family with just a hint of real-world edge. If Argenta Contemporary Theatre’s rendition of the musical adaptation of “School of Rock,” which debuted on Broadway in 2015 with music by storied composer Andrew Lloyd Webber, is even half as good as the original, you’re in for a real treat. What’s more, Arkansas Times’ own Caleb Patton (managing editor of Special Publications) is playing Ned Schneebly, the main character’s dweeby roommate and a former rocker who’s doing his best to shackle himself to the straight and narrow. Get tickets at argentacontemporarytheatre.org. DG
ESTHER ROSE, TWAIN
FRIDAY 2/28. WHITE WATER TAVERN. 8:30 P.M. $15.
There’s a longing in “Safe to Run,” New Orleans singersongwriter Esther Rose’s twangy, bittersweet 2023 album, a heartsickness she will doubtlessly bring to her live performance at the White Water Tavern. Skirting the edges of country music on a twisty alt-folk path, Rose spins introspective tales of ambiguous love (“Spider”) and frustrated hopes (“Dream Girl”), singing plaintively against a stark backdrop of understated percussion and a gently strumming guitar. It’s the kind of music — or emotional state — you might find on a long road trip through a twilit American West, where questions of innocence and sin, love and regret, are pondered but never resolved. “Maybe love ain’t enough for some of us,” she sings on “Arm’s Length,” which asks such martyrs as Jesus Christ to go a bit easier on themselves (and, consequently, us). Rose puts you in the mood for records on the turntable at night, cigarettes and a glass of cheap booze. Experimental indie folk act Twain, the project of Brooklyn singer-songwriter Mat Davidson, rounds out the evening. Writing about his 2022 album, “Noon,” No Depression imagined Davidson as an “itinerant philosopher who writes music instead of essays, soft examinations of being instead of arguments about what’s true.” Get tickets at whitewatertavern.com. DM
RED HOT HAIRPINS
SATURDAY 2/15. CLUB 27. 8 P.M. $10-$15.
Looking for the ultimate gay Galentine’s Day experience? With four bustling White Water Tavern gatherings in the rearview, Hairpins — a group that’s been organizing events since the middle of 2024 — is upping the ante and throwing its first-ever dance party at Club 27 in downtown Little Rock. As is the case with all Hairpins programming, everyone is welcome to attend, but the target audience is “lesbians, queers, transgender and nonbinary individuals.” If gyrating isn’t your thing, the first hour will be lighter on the tunes and reserved for socializing. Once the real grooving begins at 9 p.m., attendees are encouraged to wear stickers signifying whether they’re taken, out with friends, or single and hoping to mingle. The party lasts until 1 a.m. Get tickets via a link on the @droppinghairpins Instagram page. DG
Celebrating Black History Month
Black Family Expo
Saturday, February 1 | 11AM–2PM
Dunbar Community Center 1001 W 16th Street, Little Rock
Visit the Central Arkansas Library System’s Black Family Expo to learn about families with strong ties to Central Arkansas’s Black history, explore the CALS resources available to preserve your own family’s history, and sign up for a library card. Black History Month giveaways will be happening all day, so please stop by and celebrate our community’s Black History with the CALS team!
CALS Speaker Series presents Victoria Christopher Murray
Bestselling author of The Personal Librarian presents new novel Harlem Rhapsody
Thursday, February 27 | 6:30-7:30PM Ron Robinson Theater 100 River Market Avenue, Little Rock
Victoria Christopher Murray is a New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty novels. With more than three million books in print, she is one of the country’s top African American contemporary authors.
Her novels The Personal Librarian (a Good Morning America book club pick) and The First Ladies (Target’s 2023 Book of the Year), both of which she coauthored with Marie Benedict, are beloved by readers and book clubs.
Murray’s new novel, Harlem Rhapsody, is the extraordinary story of the woman who ignited the Harlem Renaissance.
See the full list of Black History Month programs at CALS.org.
WEEKDAYS AT 2PM with
Black family at Fair Park, 1959
OUT IN THE COLD: Despite the governor's claims, Arkansas's school vouchers aren't for all kids.
NOW IS THE TIME
IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO DO THE RIGHT THING: ARKANSAS’S SCHOOL VOUCHER PROGRAM AND A PLEA FOR SANITY. BY BAKER
KURRUS
By the time I was about 12, two of my front teeth were badly chipped. One had broken from a hard right from a classmate of mine, and the other was hit with a ball.
For the next six years, I didn’t smile much. We didn’t go to the dentist when I was growing up. I was self-conscious about my smile, and basically tried to keep it to myself. For a natural jokester like me, that was hard. I remember those feelings.
By the time I got to college in Fayetteville, I had saved up quite a little money for an 18-year-old kid, and a dentist there fixed my jagged teeth. That was over 50 years ago. I can’t remember all of the names of my professors, but I remember the kindness of the late Dr. Jacob Agee, and I remember how much more confidence and self-esteem I had after he had helped me.
Last week, I was in a town in eastern Arkansas and went to the local dollar store to buy a couple of things I had forgotten to pick up in Little Rock. The woman at the checkout counter was missing most of her front teeth. She covered her mouth when she laughed at my corny jokes. I remember doing that.
So what does any of this have to do with school vouchers?
Politics is about choices. It is about how to allocate limited state resources. The fact remains that Arkansas has a tremendous amount of problems, most of which start and end with poverty. Given all of the issues we have in our state, it is hard to understand why the governor and Legislature are choosing to pay private school tuition and homeschool costs for people who previously paid those costs themselves.
I think Gov. Sarah Sanders and almost every legislator knows that the following four points are true:
1. In Arkansas, we are failing to adequately educate many of our children.
2. Arkansas ranks 50th in infant mortality among the states and the District of Columbia, and 47th with respect to women’s health and reproductive care. We are last in dental care. When all health indicators are considered — things such as heart disease, diabetes, stroke and lung cancer — Arkansas ranks 48th in overall health. But we rank at or near the top with regard to teen pregnancy, food insecurity, smoking and measures of mental distress.
I DON’T THINK WE OUGHT TO SOUP Sunday
purchase a sponsorship or tickets for this family-friendly event, visit aradvocates.org/events
double that, or more.
4. Vouchers will cost around a quarter of a billion dollars in the 2025-26 school year by the governor’s estimate, and that will be a growing and recurring cost from now on. Of the vouchers issued for the current school year in Arkansas, 82 percent are for the benefit of people who were already homeschooling or already paying private school tuition, or who have a kindergartner who was likely bound for home school or private school anyway. Only a small minority of voucher students attended public school the previous year. This won’t change educational outcomes.
The governor says that our state budget re flects our priorities, and I agree.
If vouchers were supposed to bring school choice to Arkansans, then the program is a failure, and we need to change it now. If we don’t, then we better get used to being last in just about every indicator of health, educa tional achievement and prosperity, because we are not adequately addressing those prob lems.
I don’t think we ought to settle for last place. Stop the voucher program.
Why change? Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Now is always a good time to do the right thing.” A Chinese proverb says the same
Co-chaired by Gene Lu and Kevin Shalin
With Featured Chefs Madere Toure and Pap Diore of AfroBites
7th - Rock City Jukebox
8th - Jenna and the Soul Shakers
15th - Big Dam Horns
21st - Jam Halen
22nd - Freeverse
OUR POOR, UNHEALTHY AND UNDEREMPLOYED ARKANSAS NEIGHBORS ARE REAL PEOPLE, NOT JUST NUMBERS ON A REPORT.
thing, in a slightly different way: The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The next best time is now.
If you want real-world evidence on why we need to change, don’t go to the Heights Kroger. Go to any one of the more than 725 dollar stores in Arkansas. See who is shopping, and see what they buy. Ask how they are getting along.
Our poor, unhealthy and underemployed Arkansas neighbors are real people, not just numbers on a report. The voucher recipients may be happy, but a lot of other folks who are struggling have very little to smile about.
The governor tells us that $13 million in additional funding will go to Medicaid for maternal health initiatives in the upcoming fiscal year. We will be losing ground there, but even if that money were not going to be soaked up by inflation, the health of Arkansas mothers and infants seems to be pretty far down the priority list. Forty-nine other states have extended pregnancy Medicaid for postpartum maternal care; only Arkansas refuses to do so. Let’s do that and at least give kids and their mothers a healthy start.
The ultimate cost of a 3,000-bed prison will be anyone’s guess, but now it appears to be the highest priority. A majority of legislators outside of Franklin County seem determined to ram this down the throats of those who oppose it. Unless we expect to keep building prisons, let’s put a hold on this plan for at least two years. In the meantime, let’s get a serious study by qualified criminologists and see if we can parole nonviolent offenders who have been in prison a while and have demonstrated that they are no longer a threat to anyone.
Building a big prison accommodates our societal failure, rather than addressing the root causes that end in incarceration. A person who believes they have a future is likely to achieve, while someone with nothing to lose will do almost anything to get ahead, legal or not.
Let’s realize that school failure is caused largely by poverty and a lack of stable housing for poor and lower-middle income families. When students move frequently, they lose focus and miss school days. If we change the way we support families by assisting with housing for people who are seeking employment or employed in entry-level jobs, maybe those families can afford to stay in one place for a while. Their children can then go to the same school for years, rather than weeks.
Let’s ask the state Department of Education to make a plan to expand pre-kindergarten education in high poverty areas. Although there is practically no evidence that vouchers in-
crease overall student achievement, there are a lot of studies that show pre-K intervention works.
Why stop the voucher giveaway and make alternative investments? Because the sad, pathetic news about the voucher program is that there is no public benefit from all of that spending.
Unhealthy mothers with no access to health care give birth to premature, low-birth-weight babies who are sick and undernourished. Many of those kids struggle to catch up.
No pre-K for poor kids leads to huge learning deficits and behavioral problems in the early grades that are almost impossible to correct. Unhealthy kids who move frequently start behind, miss a lot of school, and tend to stay behind and almost never catch up.
Use this legislative session to address these interconnected issues. Change the inputs if you want to change the outputs.
Our state is losing ground rapidly to surrounding areas because we underspend on economic development. If opportunity knocks, our best and brightest will go to where the opportunity is most rewarding. We have extremely talented economic development leadership and staff. Give them some serious money and watch what they can do.
Believe it or not, I am trying to help. I support our governor in the general patriotic sense. I want our state to succeed. And please don’t tell me my ideas are just more “welfare for the poor” when the current plan — providing private school tuition subsidies — is welfare for the mostly wealthy.
The better plan is to break the chains of poverty so people can get their pride back, and maybe their smiles.
This can happen if some courageous legislators stand up for the folks that elected them, rather than sit down with the lobbyists trying to privatize education so their clients can peddle magic programs. Legislators, you are not cattle to be herded by the governor. You are being stampeded off a cliff. Turn around, stare straight ahead, lock arms and walk deliberately toward the future. Engage. You can do this.
In the late fall of 1978, my mother was very sick and dying, though still living at home. From our porch, she directed me to plant a bunch of flower bulbs in her garden. She knew she would never live to see them bloom, but she still insisted that I plant them.
I asked her why. She said the bulbs have to be planted now if you want flowers in the spring. She never saw the flowers, but she knew they would bloom if we did the work then and there.
Arkansas, now is the time to plant.
THE LEGACY OF EDUCATOR ROBERT BROWN’S AFROCENTRIC CURRICULUM STILL REVERBERATES, DECADES LATER.
BY FREDERICK MCKINDRA
PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN CHILSON
arland Elementary on West 25th Street in Little Rock drew its predominantly Black student population from the surrounding neighborhood, and therefore many of the students’ lives intertwined beyond the two-story brick building and surrounding schoolyard. In 2020, in the wake of the passing of one of their beloved teachers, Miss Perrylyn Wilson-Robinson, a group of those elementary school classmates began a text thread, sharing daily affirmations, encouragement and event notices some 30 years after they were classmates.
This thread among students of a school that shuttered in 2001 is the unlikely source of what’s perhaps the most remarkable remnant of educator Robert Brown’s legacy. Through his annual observation of Kwanzaa, a celebration of African American culture, Brown cemented in his students’ consciousnesses the concepts behind the funny Swahili words they still recite with glee today: kujichagulia (self-determination), ujima (collective work and responsibility), ujamaa (cooperative economics), nia (purpose) and kuumba (creativity).
“I think that derives from Mr. Brown being our principal,” Denaro Cook says, “because when he came to Garland, he taught us principles that we would have never obtained in life. Taught us how to celebrate Kwanzaa. Speak Swahili ... Learning was fun. We learned about different cultures and things like that. What we would never have learned in an elementary setting. When we graduated, we were given a kente cloth.”
Brown’s emphasis on exposing students to those cultural vestiges seems to have soldered strong bonds.
“The stuff we learned at Garland, and the way learning was fun, and the camaraderie we learned at Garland still got us together now because we all reminisce and you know we all older and we realize that life is short,” Cook says. “Some of the things we learned, it’s due to Mr. Brown and the teachers that he brought in.”
When Cook says they realize life is short, he knows better than most. Arrested at age 18, he served 18 years in prison. Upon his release, Cook began recording and performing country music, founded the nonprofit OWHO (One Who Has Overcome) and founded Cook Book Publications, a media company of which he now serves as the CEO. He’s also a sanitation worker and father of a 6-year-old daughter.
Cook quotes Malcolm X when describing his incarceration: “It’s not until after slavery or prison that a person learns what freedom really means.”
At the time Brown began working in school administration, the educational landscape in Little Rock was one fraught with quarreling over how to successfully integrate the public schools. But Brown’s practice of fighting for self-definition in the district’s classrooms began during his tenure as a student teacher in the mid-1970s.
CULTURED
CURRICULUM: Robert Brown served as the principal at Garland Elementary School from 1991-1994. His former Garland students credit him with their introduction to Kwanzaa.
“WE DIDN’T HAVE REGULAR HISTORY AT GARLAND. ALL OUR HISTORY WAS AFRICAN HISTORY, BECAUSE I REMEMBER WHEN I GOT TO DUNBAR, I WAS LIKE, ‘MAN, THIS IS NOT WHAT WE LEARNED IN ELEMENTARY.’”
TAKING ROOT: Robert Brown, a former principal at Garland Elementary School, planted some of the landscaping features during his service at the school from 1991-1994. The plants are still there today, Brown said.
Brown’s refusal to decorate bulletin boards for the Christmas holidays soured his superiors early in his career when he worked as a teacher’s aide, and it nearly cost him a chance at a job within the Little Rock School District.
Working as a long-term substitute at Mitchell Elementary, Brown displayed obvious talent for working with students and soon was hired at Kramer Elementary. He was transferred to Romine Elementary after his decision to use corporal punishment caused a dispute. “At that time, I was also a newly full-fledged preacher, and ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ was definitely a part of my mindset,” he says.
He remained at Romine, teaching second grade, from 1974-1978, though things soured there, again after he refused to decorate for the holidays.
Upon returning to teaching after pursuing his master’s degree, he worked at Washington Elementary School as a sixth-grade teacher. From there he moved to Booker Arts Magnet as a science teacher.
First tasked with working as a principal at Baseline Elementary School in 1988, he’d only served two years in that role before returning to Booker as principal. He launched his tenure by exposing teachers to a 1968 documentary, “Lost, Stolen or Strayed,” narrated by Bill Cosby, that detailed the erasure of the positive contributions of African Americans from U.S. history and film and the impact of this on the self-perception of Black youth. His lone year at the school’s helm, 1990-91, was mired in clashes over his requirement that teachers use the Portland African American Baseline Essays, a series of essays “designed to give instructors insight on the history, culture and contributions of a specific geo-cultural group in the areas of art, language arts, mathematics, science, social science and music.”
That winter, while away at a conference, he was called back to the school because of a teacher’s holiday bulletin board. The teacher, Vivian Dooley, had decorated a board with red, black and green (the colors of the Pan-African flag), with pictures of Black dignitaries, with a candle holder and kente cloth.
“This is how I got my first impression of Kwanzaa,” Brown says. Historically a noncelebrant of Christmas himself, Brown asked about the holiday. After that expo-
sure to its tenets, he stood in support of the teacher’s display. He even began hosting Kwanzaa celebrations for his own extended family, a tradition they practiced for the next 30 years.
Brown’s insistence on “doing right by” his Black students, pushing the school to increase the visibility of Black achievement throughout the curriculum — from discussions of the ancient Egyptians through Harriet Tubman and the emancipation of the slaves — came to a head when a white student from Cabot declared to her parents over spring break that she did not want to be white.
This led to a meeting with the school board, where Brown was directed to stop using the Portland essays in school curriculum.
Brown’s tenure at Booker ended soon thereafter. He was reassigned to Garland Elementary that July. “I think Bob Brown will get less resistance from parents at an incentive school than he will at a magnet school,” Katherine Mitchell, Little Rock School Board president, told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette at the time. In the ’90s, the district operated seven such campuses. Similar to magnet schools, incentive schools were set up as part of the district’s desegregation efforts. “He does a lot of things for all children, but because his focus has been on African American history, they (the essays) have not been receptive to all patrons of his school,” Mitchell said.
Brown willingly accepted the new post, having been told by Superintendent Ruth Steele that at Garland Incentive School, he could use Self-Esteem Through Culture Leads to Academic Excellence (SETCLAE), a curriculum designed by Dr. Jawanza Kunjufu, as well as the Portland Baseline Essays. “I could use anything,” Brown says.
“He was our Mr. Joe Clark,” Jerome Hunter, a paraprofessional in the Little Rock School District, remembers of his elementary school principal, comparing Brown to the staunch disciplinarian played by Morgan Freeman in the 1989 movie “Lean on Me.”
“We didn’t have regular history at Garland,” remembers Nathan Clayborn, now head basketball coach at North Little Rock
“EVERYBODY IN THE COMMUNITY WAS A PART OF THAT SCHOOL, EVERYBODY THAT WAS IN THAT AREA GREW UP AT THAT SCHOOL, AND LOVED IT.”
—YOLANDA ANDERSON
High School. “All our history was African history, because I remember when I got to Dunbar, I was like, ‘Man, this is not what we learned in elementary.’
“I think it gave me a knowledge of Black history, and then as I went through school, African American history wasn’t offered again until Central. And I couldn’t wait to take the class, to see was I tripping, was it real. And you know, it was all real stuff. They just didn’t teach us that anymore.”
By partnering with the newly formed Council for African American Progress, a group of Black community stakeholders including NAACP members, nurses, firemen, social workers and electricians organized by the tenets of Chancellor Williams’ “The Destruction of Black Civilization,” programming at Garland blossomed. The Council ran a Saturday program at the school with carpenters, woodcarvers, electricians, plumbers and dancers and “the school children just loved it,” Brown says.
They also began a program for parents to meet at Liberty Hill Baptist Church to view cultural videos and even participate in certificate training programs.
“One thing Brown implemented was, he gave us the freedom to go to his church,” remembers Keith Tucker, founder of Truth Sauce, a local condiment business that has won him multiple “entrepreneur of the year” titles. “And his church was Liberty Hill at the time and within the church came a guy, Master Anderson, so we had the option to go learn Taekwondo. We had that option to go pick up skills and that was only by Mr. Brown’s design.”
The school’s success was lauded by then School Board President John Riggs, who said, “Whatever Mr. Brown is doing should be done throughout the district.”
“Everybody in the community was a part of that school, everybody that was in that area grew up at that school, and loved it,” former sixth grade Garland teacher Yolanda Anderson says.
Though Brown worked to make sure students were exposed to cultures across the globe, the school put special emphasis on celebrating the Black diaspora.
“Multicultural Day gave us a sense outside our culture, to celebrate unity, but we were also Dignity Deputies, Doing In God’s Name Incredible Things Yourselves, and that took us back to our African heritage, celebrating Swahili,” Cook says, emphasizing the way Brown connected the school’s global Black diasporic sensibilities with the students’
lived experience in Little Rock. “We grew up celebrating Christmas and stuff, so now you have the seven principles of Kwanzaa. I mean, we knew it was us. Like even going to Liberty Hill, where he used to go to church in the evening, after school, on Sundays, and different programs, it still was all about your culture, the Black culture, the African culture.”
“We had the Wilson Robinson dance troupe,” Anderson says. “And so they’d do a lot of African dances. Go to all of these different venues to perform. It was quite colorful, the culture, just teaching the kids a lot about us, our culture, African culture.
“The dancers would dress up in their kente cloth stuff. And the person that I was married to then, he’s from Nigeria. So I had friends that were from Nigeria and they’d come and teach them the dance. And then we had a celebra-
tion where all the classrooms would pick a country and then serve the type of food and dress like that country.
“He was very different as an educator. It was different from any educator, administrator, I’ve ever taught under. Because he did bring in that culture, he did allow us to talk about our African ancestry. He allowed us to do that and explore it. Bringing in the culture, I even want to say, like African men that played the drums, the bongos, we had guests like that.”
The basketball program formed at Garland under Brown’s leadership launched a career, Tucker remembered. “They saw the talent just from recess and created that, and some Saturdays we would go out there to practice. Coach was Michael Green at that time. And look what Michael Green has turned into, a champion over at Little Rock Central. He’s retired now,
COMMUNITY SCHOOL: Garland
Elementary School, where Robert Brown served as principal from 1990-91, drew its predominantly Black student body from the surrounding neighborhood (left), helping intertwine the lives of his students, many of whom remain in touch.
but he went on to win a couple of championships at Little Rock Central.”
And the unique curriculum at Garland under Brown ensured Black students understood their worth and their potential. His Dignity Deputies program, created by the Nation of Islam to raise up Black communities, brought actor and comedian Dick Gregory to Little Rock to march with Garland students.
“We learned about us,” Cook says. “We learned about our ethnic background. We learned about our ancestors. We learned about the technologies that the Blacks came up with, Garrett Augustus Morgan, the gas mask, and the perm. Booker T. Washington helping to build a school, the first school for people of color. Maya Angelou. We didn’t know nothing about Maya Angelou, ‘Why the Caged Bird Sings.’ We learned all that. We went to Memphis, to the Lorraine Hotel.
“We went to Libertyland. We went to the [National] Civil Rights Museum. We marched in the Martin Luther King parade.”
Brown made sure students knew their potential and didn’t limit themselves, Anderson says. “You are kings and queens. That was his thing.”
But pressures from within the school district increased. By Brown’s third year as Garland principal, the district had changed superintendents twice. The district’s first Black superintendent split Brown’s community support, and scrutiny of Brown’s speaker series ultimately led to his resignation.
Still, Brown’s emphasis on African American studies carries on at the hands of his former students. Coach Clayborn says, “Well, I encourage kids to make sure they take that African American history. We offer it at North Little Rock High School. And I tell them, ‘Make sure you take that before you get out here, ’cause it’s totally different from everything else you learn about history.’”
A trip to forbidden caverns on the Buffalo National River.
A WALK IN THE WOODS: From left, Chuck Bitting, Michael Ray Taylor, Ben Oates and Sarah Heiser hike through woods in north Arkansas on a cold January morning to visit the entrance of Fitton Cave, the longest cave in the state. Fitton is among those caves in the Buffalo National River closed by the National Park Service.
For 16 years, the Buffalo National River has denied explorers access to Arkansas’s longest cave, and hundreds of others. Some Arkansas cavers want to change that.
BY MICHAEL RAY TAYLOR PHOTOGRAPHY BY NOVO STUDIO
THIN ICE: Creekwater under ice, on its way through caves to the Buffalo River.
drive north on Arkansas Highway 43 into the heart of the Ozarks. Thick frost blankets leafless trees on the ridges. They sparkle in the morning sun. The temperature rises to 16 degrees. I stop my truck and put it in park, stepping on the empty highway to snap a photo. According to my watch, I’m 10 minutes early, so I take a moment to enjoy the stunning views before returning to the warm comfort of the truck.
Just past Compton, I take a right onto a numbered dirt road and lose my cell signal. But I know this is the way: I remember it from 30 years ago.
As I bounce toward Broadwater Falls and Cecil Creek, I pass into the northernmost squiggle of the winding boundary that defines the Buffalo National River, America’s only national river. Established by federal law in 1972, it is managed under the same rules as any park in the National Park Service, which controls the river, trails and campgrounds, as well as over 500 caves. Three local experts, including a
longtime park cave specialist for BUFF (Park Service shorthand for the preserve), are now leading a bitter fight to restore recreational access to some of Arkansas’s most spectacular caves, denied since 2009.
I’ve driven the four hours from Arkadelphia two days ahead of a predicted snowstorm to hike with those experts to the entrances of some of these caves, culminating with Fitton — the longest and one of the most spectacular caves in Arkansas. I first entered Fitton in 1994 with colleagues from Henderson State University, an unforgettable trip. Three decades later, I’m back in hopes of learning what’s at stake in the battle to reopen the area’s caves, not only for cavers like me, but for the river itself, its wildlife and its future.
At the parking area for Paige Falls and Broadwater Hollow, I find Chuck Bitting sitting in his large Toyota Tundra. He steps from the truck to greet me, a smiling, rugged outdoorsman straight from central casting dressed appropriately for the day’s predicted high of 20 degrees, his face tanned and lined from a life spent in the wilderness.
As we talk, an equally large Tundra pulls up. It holds Ben Oates and Sarah Heiser, both avid cavers. (“Cavers” much prefer that term over the hifalutin’ “spelunkers.”) Caving clubs of the National Speleological Society (NSS) are called “grottos,” and Ben is currently the Cave Conservation Chair of the Boston Mountain Grotto, which meets in Fayetteville. He joined the club at age 10, in 1990, and has been paddling the Buffalo and exploring Ozark caves his entire life. He works at Pack Rat Outdoor Center, a decades-old, locally owned outdoor shop in Fayetteville. He has followed the cave closures closely since they began in 2009, when most caving groups supported the closures as a necessary measure to protect the area’s sensitive bat populations. Years later, the closures having mitigated only a small percent of that risk, most federal and state caves have reopened — except for those at the Buffalo National River.
When Ben arranged this hike, we
exchanged emails about dates, directions and the issues at stake. “I have never stepped away from my intense draw and love for our underground wilderness for over 30 years,” he wrote. “When cavers are locked out of popular caves, arrowhead hunters, meth heads and rednecks go in. The damage they did goes unnoticed for months at a time. I could name many caves where I’ve personally observed redneck locals visiting, while the cavers like me do not enter because we know that if we are caught, we will be fined and potentially jailed.”
The one thing that really bugs experienced cavers like Oates is that within the Buffalo National River area, only very limited trips into caves for surveys and study are allowed. Many of those are done by the Cave Research Foundation, a nonprofit that grew out of scientific work at Mammoth Cave in the 1950s. While nearly all foundation members are longtime cavers, and many recreational cavers join it, those fighting the current closures believe it is inherently unfair to lock out recreation and allow science trips only, because both include some of the same people crawling through the same tunnels.
In terms of dedication to cave science, safety and conservation, cavers see no fundamental difference between recreational groups like the Boston Mountain Grotto and research groups like the Cave Research Foundation. Federal officials, meanwhile, have responded to letters urging a reopening from Oates, Bitting, geology professors and graduate students at the University of Arkansas, and many others by simply repeating, “Permits into caves on Buffalo National River are limited to scientific or other non-recreational use, and no permits will be issued for recreational use.”
It’s as if the National Park Service limited canoe trips to scientists who would study fish and birds while they shot the rapids.
A Deep Hole
When the last giant Tundra pulls up, our photographer Philip Thomas
emerges, and the four of us set out. My little Nissan Frontier looks like the runt of the litter as we leave the parking area, gingerly crossing ice-slicked falls before diving into the forest. I follow closely behind Bitting, who, as we clamber up and down limestone blocks in the trail, describes his childhood love of caves and the professional life he has devoted to them within the park.
As a boy, he explored caves in farm country outside Springfield, Missouri. “They were all crummy,” he says. “The ones I knew about were all little, slimy, wet and muddy. Coon shit.”
Despite the slime, these nerd holes (a caver term) appealed to his sense of adventure. At 16, Bitting first traveled to the Buffalo River with the Logan-Rogersville High School science club. His group camped at the mouth of Sneed’s Creek near Granny Henderson's cabin — now a pilgrimage site for many hikers and canoers. The next year, his club paddled a portion of the lower river, from North Maumee to Buffalo Point, stopping to hike and rappel from limestone bluffs pocked with dark holes. For the first time, Bitting entered caves where he could actually stand up. He was hooked.
Bitting joined the National Speleological Society and was soon exploring virgin caves in Arkansas, Missouri and elsewhere. He hiked and canoed virtually every nook and cranny of the river, finding and cataloging numerous unexplored caves as he went. In April 1987, he became a seasonal employee of the park, landing a permanent position as its natural resource program manager in 1990. After 32 years in a job coordinating cave research by universities and nonprofit organizations like the Cave Research Foundation, monitoring caves for occasional vandalism or misuse, and issuing recreational permits, he retired from the Park Service in 2021.
We hike about a mile among sandstone boulders and cobbles before reaching a deep hole yawning to the left of the trail. This is Devil’s Den (not to be confused with the state park of the same name south of Fayetteville).
Oates and Bitting run through other names the pit has been called by various cave groups, who have been naming caves for over 75 years, including Easter Pit and Devil’s Pit. The drop beside us appeared about 30 feet to a ledge, and then another 30 or 40 feet to an underground stream that rushes at the bottom.
As we admire the big drop, we pause to pull water bottles from our packs. The cavers describe the stream and cave passage below, then Bitting continues his story. Beyond the caves themselves, he became an expert in the overlying karst, the geologic term for the rugged limestone landscape visible in any photo of the Buffalo River. In karst landscapes, virtually all water travels underground through a network of caves to a base level — here, the Buffalo River. The life and health of the caves are thus inextricably tied to the life and health of the river. The caves are living arteries that feed the body.
This is why Bitting joined local cavers in protest of several threats to that body, before, during and after his time as a park employee. He lists them as we begin hiking to the next cave: In 1986, the Arkansas Pollution Control and Ecology Commission permitted the construction of a municipal landfill in the karst area between Pindall (Searcy County) and the Buffalo. Cavers used dye tracing to prove that Mitch Hill Spring, the largest spring in the national park, would carry pollutants from the landfill directly into the river. The landfill never opened.
David Mott, another caver, worked tirelessly to defeat a proposed dam on Bear Creek, which the town of Marshall wanted for a water supply. He proved the dam would substantially diminish the values for which the national river was established, harming not only wildlife but the recreational mission of the park. In 2012, Bitting and others led opposition to a permit issued by the Arkansas Department of Environmental Quality for a large hog operation in Newton County. During the eight years it operated, Bitting and others recorded “huge filamentous al-
gae blooms that extended at least 60 miles downstream.” Bitting noted that the phosphorus left in the soils will be an environmental problem for decades to come.
But the problem that led to the 2009 cave closures — and Bitting’s current fight with park management — did not involve human pollution. It began with a natural disaster. In 2006 in upstate New York, a group of dead bats were discovered in snowy woods near a cave. It turned out they had been killed by a new disease named whitenose syndrome (WNS), which over the next few years swept down the Appalachians before moving west, killing millions of hibernating American bats in its deadly spread.
The Bat Plague
A fungal infection, white-nose syndrome was named after a white fuzzy blob visible on the nose of some infected bats. It is deadliest for certain species of small hibernating bats. The discomfort of the infection wakes them from hibernation, burning up fat stores that can no longer sustain them
STUMP SPEECH:
Chuck Bitting, a retired cave specialist, talks about conservation issues at the entrance of Mud Cave.
NO ENTRY: The upper entrance to Fitton Cave, the longest cave in Arkansas, is closed to recreation.
through the winter. They starve to death and fall from their roosts, littering cave floors.
When the first occurrence of the disease in Virginia was detected in 2009 at a cave frequented by cavers, scientists theorized that WNS may have been transferred from the soil of an infected cave onto the boots and clothing of cavers, who unwittingly transferred the fungus to a new cave elsewhere. Immediately, state and federally owned wild caves (not to be confused with tour caves) began to close — especially in the South and Midwest. The Buffalo ceased all caving permits and closed all caves in 2009. In 2012, the first known cases of white-nose syndrome in Arkansas reached caves in the Ozarks.
The disease was especially deadly for hibernating colonies of some species, where large groups of pregnant females cluster together. In some infected caves, as much as 95% of the bat population was destroyed. Conversely, other species such as the endangered gray bat, became infected but survived and eventually thrived, moving into the empty roosts and habitats of
decimated Arkansas species.
When white-nose syndrome became endemic in a state, cavers were encouraged to sterilize boots, clothing, gloves and helmets after every trip underground. If they were traveling to another state, guidelines from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service suggested that they leave all their gear at home and buy or borrow new gear before caving in that state. Caving conventions began to provide local loaner gear to visitors, trying to stop the spread.
As a writer with a longtime focus on caves and cave science, I started volunteering for annual bat counts, which recorded population declines and recoveries. I traveled to mines and tunnels where there were bats but little other cave life, allowing scientists to more freely test experimental methods to fight the disease. I brought a group of Henderson State University students to a partially flooded zinc mine near Mena, where they dressed in Tyvek suits to assist a researcher with Bat Conservation International in swabbing test circles that had been infected with white-nose syndrome and
CAVE PASSAGES: (Left) Rocks line the entrance to Little Devil’s Den in north Arkansas. (Right) Michael Ray Taylor follows Chuck Bitting across a dry streambed below Fitton Cave. Except in times of flood, most water here flows underground.
sprayed with potential cures. In north Georgia, I watched as a group of scientists from Kennesaw State University traveled by rowboat to the back of a flooded 19th century rail tunnel to document the recovery of a bat colony that had been sprayed with a cure made from a rare Bolivian pineapple, known to cure fungal disease in horses.
By the time I wrote about that trip in an essay for The New York Times published in 2018, researchers had reached consensus that the disease was spread by bats flying from one cave to another and not by crawling cavers.
Famed bat researcher Merlin Tuttle and the president and board chair of the National Speleological Society jointly wrote a letter to the U.S. secretary of the interior stating that cave closures were not helping fight the disease. Moreover, annual bat counts might even be harming the hibernating colonies by disturbing them, along with harm done by vandals who would enter closed caves that were no longer monitored by permitted cavers. “After 10 years, it is time to acknowledge that whitenose syndrome is going to run its course,” the letter concluded, calling for an end to closures of public caves, except for hibernating colonies during the winter months.
Slowly, across the country, state and federal wild caves began to reopen, including Arkansas caves on USDA Forest Service land. But not at the Buffalo River.
Fitton Memories
In 1994, after hearing about Fitton Cave, I reached out to Richard Honebrink, a highly experienced caver then living in Fort Smith, who agreed to secure a permit for several friends and me. We arrived at the cave on a beautiful fall day, winded from the hike but ready for the wonders that awaited us. Honebrink unlocked the gate, and one by one we descended into a large, magnificent chamber that curved away from daylight into darkness.
We walked until the room’s ceiling dropped down to within a couple of feet of the muddy floor. The passage ahead was still wide but seemed tall enough only for dogs. Our guide directed us toward twin ruts in the center that vanished in the gloom. These were knee tracks dug out by hundreds of cavers before us — the only pathway to the glories beyond. Thus we took off our packs and began dragging them as we crawled, the cone of light from each person’s helmet illuminating the muddy butt of the person ahead. With the cool soft mud, it was not as uncomfortable as other cave crawlways I’ve traversed, but it did take us a while to finally reach a point where we could stand.
My friend Randy Duncan grumbled about the crawl the entire time we were in it. We had only walked a short distance before he stopped us. “I can’t stop thinking about those tons of rock over my head in that crawlway,” he said. “I don’t think I can keep worrying about it for
COLD CREEK: Water flows through Cecil Creek one day before a snowstorm blanketed much of Arkansas.
the full trip. Would it be OK if I left now?”
Unlike the others in our group, this was Duncan's first time in a wild cave. His rising claustrophobia was not a total surprise — some people don’t learn they are claustrophobic until their first cave crawl.
We climbed down a jagged well-like shaft called The Manhole and raced down canyon-like paths that wound about like a maze in a Tolkien novel. We squeezed into a side crawl, which soon led to a seldom-visited chamber bristling with white aragonite shards and flowers. Some were so delicate that even a close breath might have fractured them. Keeping a safe distance, we stared in wonder.
By the time we emerged to fading daylight, my friends and I had enjoyed an unforgettable National Park experience. Caving was not for everyone, but for those willing to face mud and discomfort, Fitton provided views of nature available nowhere else. As required by park rules, after our excursion we wrote up a brief account of our trip and submitted it to Chuck Bitting. He had approved our permit, although I would not meet him for another 30 years.
The Two-Legged Stool
Standing with Bitting three decades later at a wide cave entrance, it’s easy to imagine its entryway as a huge mouth grinning in the direction of Cecil Creek. A hundred years ago, there was no air conditioning in the Ozarks, which led this opening to be known for a time as Church Cave. Just inside is a large, roughly circular room, with a stone pillar more or less the same size and shape as a pulpit. On hot summer Sundays, a local minister would preach here, to a cool, comfortable gathering of parishioners inside.
Most caves maintain a constant year-round temperature that fluctuates only slightly. In the Ozarks, that temperature is about 58 degrees — heavenly in August. On this frigid January day, it actually feels as though the cave is expelling warm air, visible clouds of it like the breath from a horse in winter. We arrange ourselves on comfortable rocks as Bitting pontificates, preaching not from the off-limits pulpit rock, but from a suitable stump just outside.
“The National Park Service is here to preserve and conserve public lands and to provide for the recreation of those public lands and the education of the public,” he begins. “Buffalo National River was established to conserve and interpret an area containing unique scenic and scientific features, to preserve the Buffalo as a free-flowing river for present and future generations. So what we’ve got is a three-legged stool. There’s a conservation leg, an education or interpretation leg. Those two kind of go together, since education and in-
terpretation aren’t necessarily the same. And then you have this recreation leg. In the case of caves on Buffalo National River, the recreation leg has been cut and taken away and locked up somewhere. So now we have a two-legged stool. A two-legged stool can’t stand.”
I nod along like a congregant as Bitting continues.
“If you can’t go recreate in an area, how do you see these things, how do you learn to appreciate them? And if you can't learn to appreciate something, why do you want to conserve it? And if you can’t go see something, how are you going to interpret? How are you going to hook those people that come to the park? How are you going to say, ‘Hey, we’ve got these caves and they’re really pretty cool?’
“Knowing that that cave has passages that are a couple million years old really helps us begin to tell a story. It’s an important story. How can we start talking about the way these caves integrate with the rest of the world? They’re not there by themselves. They don’t exist in some vacuum. They’re integrated. Everything is integrated.
“Once you start pulling that thread, you realize that the whole sweater is connected, part
of that, tied to that thread, and you unravel the whole thing. You can’t tell a story about this place — this Buffalo National River, America’s first national river. And I think right now the only national river in the system — you can’t tell the story unless you talk about the caves. And you can’t really talk effectively about the caves if people cannot see them and appreciate them.”
Cave research is all well and good, Bitting adds, but no new person is enticed into a lifetime of science, exploration and conservation by statistics and reports.
“The NSS had this leave-no-trace ethic for long before I joined 40 years ago,” Bitting says. “Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints, kill nothing but time.”
He’s preaching to the choir, and we begin to amen and witness.
Over the next few days, I will talk with a half-dozen people who were first lured into a lifetime of caving by a trip to Fitton. Pete Lindsley, who ran the Fitton Cave survey from 1985 to 2000, first entered the cave on a recreational trip in the 1960s. The private owner of the cave then was Jim Schermerhorn, who soon entrusted a young Lindsley with the key to the
STOP SIGN: The original steel gate to Fitton Cave, installed by a private owner and blasted off with dynamite by vandals in 1964, lies about 100 feet below the cave entrance.
gate. Lindsley would go on to sit on the board of Cave Research Foundation for 18 years.
I speak with Maya Robles, a former Henderson student who is now earning a master’s in geology at the University of Tennessee. I took her and a group of students on their first caving trip three years ago, with a permit to a cave at a Tennessee State Park, as part of a cave microbe study.
“I wanted to keep caving,” Maya recalls. “I got in contact with people from the grottos out in Tennessee and I was making trips occasionally before I found people closer to home in CRF. I even found a small virgin cave and got to name it: Rainy Cove Cave.”
Eventually church lets out, and we get back on the trail with Bitting, hiking to Cecil Creek.
Ice forms a lacy frame around flowing water that glistens on the white rocks. We follow a boulder-choked gulley up to the entrance of Fitton. Along the way, we pass Schermerhorn’s original steel gate, blasted off with dynamite by vandals around 1964. It now lies 100 or so feet downstream of the cave, warning hikers to “KEEP OUT” of a jumble of cobbles. The early winter afternoon places the gully in shade, but a bright shaft of sunlight strikes the entrance, just as it did when I went into the cave three decades ago. After a few photos, we turn and head back to Broadwater Falls.
I’m eager to start the long drive back to Arkadelphia. A major snowstorm will hit the state tomorrow morning. I think about the value of wild caves, how they underlie the value of wild rivers, the very concept of wilderness itself. We have had the trails to ourselves this frigid day, but in the spring the hikers will return, and that’s a good thing. Green buds will spread over the trees. The river will run thick with kayaks and canoes, and the campsites will all be claimed.
But the caves will likely remain closed, and that’s a dirty shame.
READERS CHOICE AWARDS
For 45 years, the Arkansas Times has asked its readers to set aside a moment to ponder the state’s best restaurants, catfish, fried chicken, desserts and, of course, brunch — for our annual Readers Choice Awards. As always, the results in 2025 were full of newcomers, continuing reigns and even a few surprising upsets.
It was a big year for Wright’s Barbecue, taking home Best Barbecue in Little Rock and Around Arkansas. With four locations now, it seems safe to say that Arkansans have fully embraced Texas-style ’cue. After ruling the category in the 1990s, Riverdale’s Buffalo Grill won Best Burger in Little Rock, unseating Big Orange following 12 years of consecutive wins. Early risers took to SoMa once again with The Root Cafe winning Best Breakfast and Raduno winning Best Brunch.
Speaking of Raduno, it also took home a second consecutive win for Shaniya Abrams in the Best Server category and a third consecutive win for Cash Ashley as Best Little Rock Chef. For the sixth year in a row, Three Fold Noodles & Dumpling Co. won the award for Best Chinese restaurant in Central Arkansas. Fidel & Co won by a landslide in Little Rock’s Best Coffee category, as did Rogers-based Onyx Coffee for Best Coffee around Arkansas. Brave New Restaurant and Petit & Keet tied in Little Rock’s Best Fine Dining category. And the most votes for any winner in a category went to Loblolly Creamery for Best Ice Cream/Cool Treats in Little Rock.
Another Readers Choice tradition entails our writers taking a loving look at a few of our favorite local spots, some of which showed up high in the final tally and some of which didn't fare as well, making them in need of a little hearty defending.
As Mt. Fuji nears its 40th year in West Little Rock’s Breckenridge Village shopping center, Rhett Brinkley spoke to its new owners, brothers Aaron and Yusuke Jackson, about carrying on a tradition they’ve known since childhood.
Daniel Grear, fed up with seeing Shipley’s dominate the Best Donut category, posted up at Mark’s Do-Nut Shop in North Little Rock’s Levy neighborhood to contemplate how they’ve managed to perfect the art of fried dough.
Milo Strain got some good news about expanded hours and new menu items at Afrobites, an African food truck that has become a beloved staple of the Little Rock and Conway food scenes since 2020.
Phillip Powell spoke with the owners of The Croissanterie, finalists in multiple categories this year. Owners Jill McDonald and Wendy Schay are excited to expand in the new year and continue supporting local charities and causes with some of the profits from their meticulously crafted croissants.
Last but not least, Stephanie Smittle mapped out a guide for North Little Rock’s bustling ice cream scene and found, correctly, that winter isn’t the off-season; it’s just the season when ice cream melts more slowly.
TRADITIONAL TECHNIQUES: Originally from Dakar, Senegal, co-owners Madere Toure, pictured, and Pap Diop established the first Afrobites truck in Little Rock in 2020.
Cultured Cuisine
AFROBITES OFFERS AUTHENTIC AFRICAN FOOD IN CENTRAL ARKANSAS.
BY MILO STRAIN PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN CHILSON
Afrobites, a restaurant operating out of food trucks in Little Rock and Conway, serves delicious, authentic food from across Africa, and it recently announced expanded operating hours and new menu items.
Co-owners Madere Toure and Pap Diop, from Dakar, Senegal, immigrated to the United States in the early 2000s. They met as students at the University of Central Arkansas and learned to cook African food after they felt homesick for the taste.
After getting positive feedback from family and friends, they turned their passion for African cuisine into a business partnership that “would allow us to give back to the great community of Arkansas and share the African culture and food,” Diop said.
In late 2020, Toure and Diop opened their first location at 1702 Wright Ave. They opened their second truck in Conway at 1915 Harkrider St., near Hendrix College.
Both locations have collectively received hundreds of five-star reviews on Google and Facebook.
“We want to be sharing our culture through the food, but one key point that Afrobites stands for and drives heavily is contributing and helping with the community,” Diop said.
After a tornado devastated Wynne (Cross County) on March 31, 2023, Afrobites donated hot meals to the relief effort.
In March, Toure and Diop will be featured chefs at Central Arkansas Soup Sunday 2025, a fundraising event for Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families
Afrobites’ offerings aren’t specific to any nation or region. They serve food from all over Africa and make everything from scratch.
“We're just trying to feature as much as possible [from] what the continent has to offer,” Toure said.
Chicken, shrimp and fish are available in flavors like piri piri, suya and jerk, atop a bed
READERS CHOICE A ARDS FINALIST
of rice or with chapati bread. Jackfruit is also served as an option for meatless eaters.
For first-timers, Diop recommends the suya chicken and jollof rice, a combination of spiced grilled chicken and savory rice cooked in tomato and spices, with collard greens and curried cabbage on the side.
“We make sure that they get at least one of our four drinks that we sell,” Diop said. “If they like ginger, [we] tell them, ‘Try this ginger, it’s the best one you’re ever going to have.’”
Afrobites’ other house-made beverages include mango lemonade, tropical tea and bissap, a hibiscus-flavored tea.
Meat or lentil patties — flaky, fried pies full of ground meat or lentils, not like burger patties — help round out the menu.
The two trucks’ menus differ slightly. The Conway location serves a peanut butter-spinach stew that is not served at Little Rock.
Afrobites recently announced that its Little Rock location will now be open from Tuesday through Sunday instead of only on weekends. A new menu will be available on weekdays.
“From Tuesday to Thursday we’re going to have some of the items that we can’t do during the weekend,” Toure said. “We're doing those items during the week, 11 to 6, and then on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, we have our regular menu.”
I stopped by Afrobites for lunch on the first day of its new menu. That week, Toure was cooking chicken yassa, chicken with an onion sauce and lemon over coconut rice, and red snapper filet on jollof rice with cabbage, carrots and butternut squash. Toure said he might serve a North African beef kofta tagine, a stew with meatballs, with couscous later that week.
I opted for the red snapper with rice and vegetables. Everything was delicious and cooked perfectly and I came back from my lunch break extremely satisfied. I plan to return.
On Jan. 20, Afrobites announced a new series of weekly specials called “Passport to African Flavors,” which will feature dishes from a different part of Africa each week.
The first stop on Afrobites’ culinary journey was Kenya. From Jan. 21 to 23, the Little Rock location served a Kenyan rice pilau with kachumbari, a “zesty” tomato-and-onion salad that “adds the perfect tangy crunch.”
Toure said he and Diop had to call their “moms and aunties and ask them the techniques” while learning how to cook traditional African food.
“They said, ‘Oh, try this, use this’ … and then we just took the techniques and tried to adjust them,” Toure said.
Their main goal, Toure said, was “to keep
SURF AND TURF: Madere Toure, below, cooks up dishes like this plate of dibi lamb with shrimp, collard greens and curried cabbage at the Little Rock truck, while co-owner Pap Diop mans the Conway location.
some of the tradition” in their food, but they’ve adjusted things to better fit the business.
Now, with two food trucks in operation, Toure and Diop want to grow Afrobites in an “organic” way and go where the market demands.
“If the market demands a brick-and-mortar, we’ll probably work on that area, but if the market demands another truck, we’ll go to that area. Or something totally different,” Toure said.
BRINGING SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY TO THE HEIGHTS, ONE BISCUIT AT A TIME!
The Buttered Biscuit, a beloved Northwest Arkansas institution, is more than just a breakfast spot; it’s a community gathering place built on a foundation of love, care, and a commitment to making a difference.
Founded by Anna, a Midwest gal who found her home in Arkansas, and her husband Sam, the vision was simple: create a warm, welcoming space where families and friends could enjoy high-quality, made-from-scratch breakfast dishes, free from fast food and shortcuts.
Their commitment to quality extends to every aspect of the business, including providing gluten-free options to their patrons. “We make everything from scratch. Everything is fresh, hand-chopped, and we pride ourselves in the difference you can taste,” Anna says. “And our gluten-free options ensure that there’s something for everyone, without skimping on flavor, texture, or consistently good food!”
“She’s always presented a warm, welcoming feeling to everyone,” Sam recalled, describing the early days of Anna working at the first store back in April 2017. “She would always be carrying around [our] first kid in a baby carrier and greeting tables.”
The Buttered Biscuit’s commitment to the community extends beyond delicious food. Project Biscuit, their charitable arm, embodies their desire to help others see “that the joy and dignity of meaningful work can unlock personal opportunity, empowerment, and a renewed sense of purpose.”
“We started Project Biscuit because they have such a compelling call with employees and team,” Anna explained. “All the biscuits we serve with the Eureka Sandwich have a portion that goes to help people in our community. Whether it’s scholarships for culinary
school at Pulaski Tech, or working with Circles NWA — helping individuals reach out and get out of poverty.” Project Biscuit focuses on supporting individuals who have been underestimated, a cause deeply personal to the founders, especially Sam. “Anna was an underestimated category (woman-owned),” he acknowledged. Last year, Project Biscuit both raised and donated over $10,000, demonstrating the impact of this community-focused initiative. “Getting to see first-hand people’s lives transform and change, working with UA Pulaski Tech and Circles NWA, it’s what keeps the fire lit.”
On January 28th, The Buttered Biscuit opened its sixth location in the Heights, marking a significant milestone. This expansion reflects the brand’s continued growth and commitment to serving the community. With a new team of almost 300 employees, the focus remains on creating new, uplifting opportunities for each individual who joins the family.
“As they’re seeking to build a career, it’s an honor because I’m watching people who have been overlooked want to be a part of an organization, to be a part of something bigger and to want to do something,” Sam said. “It’s a privilege and opportunity to help and see the people building their own lives and flourishing, but all we’re doing is “setting the table”, the employees are the ones putting in the hard work.”
The journey of The Buttered Biscuit exemplifies the power of community, the importance of supporting local businesses, and the impact that one can have on the lives of others. As they continue to grow and thrive, one thing remains certain: The Buttered Biscuit is more than just a restaurant; it’s a testament to the power of passion, purpose, and a commitment to making a difference.
The Buttered Biscuit founders Sam and Anna Russell
Congratulations Readers Choice Awards Recipients!
501 Prime
7 Brew Drive-Thru Coffee
All Aboard
Alley-Oops
Allsopp & Chapple Restaurant + Bar
Asia Buffet
Baja Grill
Bawarchi Biryanis
BBQ Pitts Stop
BCW (Bread Cheese Wine)
Bentonville Taco & Tamale Co.
Betoville
Big Bad Breakfast
Big Orange
Big Springs Trading Company
Blue Cake Company
Blue Heaven
Bobby’s Country Cookin’
Boulevard Bread Company
Brave New Restaurant
Bray Gourmet
Brood & Barley
Bruno’s Little Italy
Buffalo Grill
Butcher Boys Meat Market & Deli
Cabot Cafe & Cake Corner
Cabot Nutrition Hangout
Cafe 1217
Cafe Kahlo
Calle Latin Cuisine
Campground Grill
Capriotti’s Sandwich Shop
Casa Manana
Catering to You
Catfish Hole
Certified Pies
Charlotte’s Eat and Sweets
Cheesecake on Point!
China Garden
Ciao Baci
Cici’s Pizza
Coffee On Wheels
Colorado Grill
Community Bakery
Conifer
Corky’s Ribs & BBQ
Count Porkula
Coursey’s Smoked Meats
Crazee’s Cafe
Crepes Paulette
Cypress Social
Dairy Queen Grill & Chill
Delicious Temptations Restaurant
Deluca’s Pizza
Dempsey Bakery
Dizzy’s Gypsy Bistro
Doe’s Eat Place
Don Pepe’s
Don’s Southern Social
Dondie’s White River Princess
Eat My Catfish
Edwards Food Giant
Einstein Bros. Bagels
El Acapulco
El Pelenque
El Sur Street Food Co.
Ermilio’s Italian Home Cooking
Fantastic China
Fayetteville Taco & Tamale
Feltner’s Whatta Burger
Fidel & Co
Five Guys
Flake Baby Pastry
Flavors Indian Cuisine
Flora Jean
Flying Fish
Four Quarter Bar
Franks
Gaskins Cabin Steakhouse
George’s Little Rock
Good Dog Cafe
Grateful Head Pizza Oven & Beer Garden
Grotto Wood Fired Grill and Wine Cave
Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken
Hail Fellow Well Met!
HAM Market
Havana Tropical Grill Restaurant
Heights Corner Store
Heights Taco & Tamale Co.
Herman’s RibHouse
Hill Station
Hillcrest Little Bakery
Hogg’s Meat Market
Holly’s Country Cookin’ Hugo’s
Iriana’s Pizza
Italy in Town
J&S Italian Villa
Jackrabbit Dairy Bar
Jade China Restaurant
Jasper Pizza Company
JJ’s Grill
Jones Bar-B-Q Diner
Juicy Seafood
Kemuri
Khana Indian Grill
Kilwin’s Ice Cream
KnightFire BBQ
Kopper Kettle Smokehouse
La Hacienda Mexican Restaurant
La Terraza Rum & Lounge
Larry’s Pizza
Layla’s Gyro
Léa-Léa’s Gourmet Dogs
Leon’s Donuts
Little Bread
Loblolly Creamery
Local Lime
Lucky Luke’s
Maddie’s Place
Mark’s Donut Shop
Marlo’s Taco Shack
McClard’s Bar-B-Q
Meiji Japanese Cuisine
Mercado el Valle
Mike’s Cafe
Mike’s Place
Mizuki A.Y.C.E.
Mockingbird Kitchen
Mockingbird Taco
Mong Dynasty
Monte Ne Inn
Morningside Bagels
Mr. Cajun’s Kitchen
Mr. Chen’s
Mt Fuji
Mud Street Cafe
Murry’s Dinner Playhouse
Mylo Coffee Co.
Naru Sushi & Grill
Neighbor’s Mill Bakery & Cafe
Onyx Coffee
Osaka Japanese Steakhouse & Sushi Bar
Ouachita Bar & Grill
Oven & Tap
Ozark Mountain Bagel Co.
Park Grill (AMFA)
Pasta Grill
Pat’s Kitchen
PattiCakes Bakery
Paul’s Donuts
Pea Farm Bistro
Penguin Ed’s
Petit and Keet
Pig ‘N Chik BBQ
Pizza Pie-Zazz
Pizzeria Ruby
Plate It To Go Pressroom
Problem Child Pizza
Rabbit Ridge Farms
Raduno | Brick Oven & Barroom
Red Oak Steakhouse, Saracen
Revival: Restaurant + Beer Garden
Rex’s (In The Bagel Shop)
Ristorante Capeo
River City Coffee
Rivera Italian Restaurant
RŌBER Cocktails + Culinary
Rogue’s Manor
Rosie’s Pot & Kettle Cafe
RX Little Rock
Sadler Alaskan Dumplings
Saffron Indian Cuisine
Salem Dairy Bar
Samantha’s Tap Room & Wood Grill
Scooter’s Coffee
Sekisui
Serenity Farm Bread
Shakes Frozen Custard
Shipley’s Donuts
Sims BBQ
Skylark Cafe
Smashed N Stacked
Smitty’s Garage
Burger & Beers
Smokin’ Buns
Southern Tail Brewing
Spa City Doughnuts
Speakeasy Cafe
Spudnut Shoppe
SQZBX Brewery & Pizza Joint
Star of India
Sterling Market
Stickyz Rock n’ Roll Chicken Shack
Stoby’s Restaurant
Stone Mill Cafe
Sushi Cafe
Sushi House
Table 28
Taco Mama
Tacos Godoy
Taj Mahal
Tamalcalli
Tamale Factory
TCBY
The Bagel Shop/Rex’s
The Buttered Biscuit
The Croissanterie
The Delta Biscuit Co.
The Donut Palace
The Faded Rose
The Farmer’s Table Cafe
The Fold- Botanas & Bar
The Grumpy Rabbit
The Ohio Club
The Original Scoop Dog
The Purple Cow
The Root Cafe
The Utopia Deli
Three Fold Noodles + Dumpling Co.
Three Sam’s Barbeque Joint
Tokyo House
Trevor Papsadora (The Bagel Shop/Rex’s)
Trio’s Restaurant
Tusk & Trotter American Brasserie
Tusk and Trotter
Two hands corn dogs
Two Sisters
US Pizza
Utopia Deli
Village Hibachi
Vinos Brew Pub
Waldo’s Chicken & Beer
Walk-Ons Sports Bistreaux
Wasabi
Weldon’s Meat Market
White Water Tavern
Who Dat’s Cajun Restaurant
Whole Hog Cafe
Wild Sweet Williams
Wilsons Cafe
World Buffet Restaurant
Wrights Barbecue
Wrights Barbecue
Yancey’s Dickson Street Dogs
Yeyo’s El Alma de Mexico
Zanzibar
ZaZa Fine Salad and Wood Oven Pizza Co.
I Scream, You Scream
AN ICE CREAM MAP OF NORTH LITTLE ROCK.
BY STEPHANIE SMITTLE
For the steadfast and devout ice cream lovers among us, winter isn’t the off-season; it’s just the season when ice cream melts more slowly. Here, we offer a snapshot of North Little Rock’s impressive scoop-to-square-mile ratio, a metric which should surely join “Best Schools” and “Most Greenspace” on all those rankings of the best cities to live in.
Retail Chains
Freddy’s Frozen Custard & Steakburgers
4305 E. McCain Blvd., North Little Rock
This Kansas-originated burger joint serves some delightful custard. Don’t miss: the chance to order a Freddy’s treat in the “mini” size so you can eat more ice cream later.
TCBY 2600 Lakewood Village Drive, North Little Rock
This Arkansas-born chain responsible for reliably delicious froyo, which you can doll up about a billion ways with various toppings, and its Lakewood Village location is one of only two remaining outposts in the state. Don’t miss: Arkansas Times Editor Austin Gelder’s fave, the white chocolate mousse shiver with strawberries and almonds.
Dairy Queen 1550 Country Club Road, Sherwood
You likely already have a favorite at this old-school fastfood joint, but if you’re uncommitted, we’d like to suggest the modest but elegant Dilly Bar.
Andy’s Frozen Custard
6725 JFK Blvd., North Little Rock
Andy’s boasts that all its custard is served within an hour of being made. Tasting it, that seems about right. The Missouri-born chain’s custard is Wonka-level creamy, particularly the seasonal eggnog flavor that rolls in around the holidays. Don’t miss: the eggnog edition, when it reappears. Until then, your options abound, but ordering the BootDaddy Concrete does mean you get to say “BootDaddy” in a drive-thru window.
Almitas Chamoy and Ice Cream Shop 5907 JFK Blvd., North Little Rock
A labor of love from Veracruz native Alma Casagnon that beckons as much with its eye candy decor as with its candied confections. Don’t miss: the horchata fresca or the towering Piña Loca, served inside a whole pineapple.
The Sweet Spot 3321 JFK Blvd., North Little Rock Filipino bakery known for gorgeous cakes. Don’t miss: their take on Halo-Halo, a Filipino layered dessert crafted from shaved ice and sweetened condensed milk.
Ice Cream Rock 4907 Macarthur Drive, North Little Rock
Arkansas Pineapple Whip (seasonal) 7225 Arkansas Highway 107, Sherwood Nondairy nectar of the gods with an Arkansas-connected origin story to boot. Look for this truck to open up in the springtime at 7225 Arkansas Highway 107. (Yep, it’s in a parking lot behind a Taco Bell.) Don’t miss: the plain pineapple whip in a cup, a lily that needs no gilding.
Known in colder weather for their banana leaf tamales and steaming cups of champurrado. Don’t miss: the house-made waffle cones, the selection of paletas.
Kaluas Snack Bar 4550 JFK Blvd., Suite B, North Little Rock
Gadwall’s Grill
7311 North Hills Blvd. #14, Sherwood
A neighborhood hangout since the end of the Reagan era, the diner specializes in fried delights and burgers. Nevertheless, don’t miss the Brownie Under, a heap of ice cream melting over a house-made brownie, the whole affair doused in the diner’s house-made chocolate sauce.
Celebrating the Mexican tradition of mashing up fruit with soft serve with spice with candy, Kaluas rewards the adventurous with maximalist munchies. Put a mangonada and a walking taco on your radar for warmer months.
The Original ScoopDog 5508 JFK Blvd., North Little Rock
A bastion of cash transactions in a mostly cashless world, the creamy custard at this institution’s driveup is reason enough to keep a little change in your car’s front console. Don’t miss: the turtle-esque Good Ol’ Beagle or The Chocolate Lab.
THE CROISSANTERIE GOES FROM BOOTLEG TO BOUGIE.
BY PHILLIP POWELL
PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN
FLAKY GOODNESS: A batch of freshly-made French croissants is ready for pickup at The Croissanterie.
CHILSON
Four years after opening amid the COVID-19 pandemic, The Croissanterie continues to expand and thrive. Chefs Wendy Schay and Jill McDonald combine French croissants with southern comfort to create a fluffy Central Arkansas sensation. Their menu includes “Le Burger,” a locally sourced burger on a flaky croissant bun, and their bestselling pastry, the sweet, buttery almond croissant. Schay said the almond croissant was never meant to be a fixture, but they can’t help but sell out of it daily. The store is as well-known for its all-day breakfast plates as its delicately assembled croissant sandwiches.
The Croissanterie has humble beginnings. McDonald joked that while teaching culinary students at the University of Arkansas Pulaski Technical College, she and Schay began “bootlegging croissants out of the back of the car” before the pandemic at a local farmers market and other locations. Despite their modest beginnings, Schay and McDonald have big plans going forward.
Since 2020, Schay and McDonald have expanded to two brick-and-mortar stores, one in West Little Rock and a smaller coffee bar downtown. Opening a storefront was a fiveyear goal; they pulled it off within a year and a half, thanks to astronomical demand after debuting a food truck in December 2020. Their goal in 2025 is to find a suitable location for an industrial kitchen where they can mass-produce croissants to meet demand from Little Rock croissant lovers.
Other goals include growing their catering and private dinner business, building up their workforce, and allowing employees more
ownership and creativity.
Creating croissants is a three-day process that includes mixing, stretching, folding and baking. It’s an artistic act that results in hundreds of flaky pastries ready for sale. Machines are part of the process, but so are the hands needed to stretch and fold before baking.
Schay and McDonald start on Day One by measuring and weighing the primary ingredients: butter, flour and yeast. The resulting dough ball is then flattened by a machine into a sheet about an inch thick. The dough is then covered with a sheet of European butter. The two sheets are constantly folded together into one sheet about two inches thick. This is the basic building block of the croissant — dough combined with butter to be meticulously cut into triangles.
Later, the chefs hand-twist the dough into the familiar croissant shape. Once the rolls are formed, they are coated in a butter-andegg mixture and, on the third day, put in the oven. Some croissants are loaded with strips of chocolate, others with triple-berry or cream cheese filling. All emerge flaky and delicious.
McDonald and Schay said that consistency and community support were key to The Croissanterie being successful over the last four years.
“From a business standpoint, what folks really like about us is that we are pretty consistent. If we say we are going to do something, we try to do that. When we had the food truck, people would call us and we would be there, we wouldn’t cancel,” McDonald said.
Along with consistency, the pair credited their success to support of the community
WITH IT:
The Croissanterie, produce pans of fresh, hot rolls. (Below) The stretching and folding of croissant dough is an artistic process.
through monthly contributions to local nonprofits and the support they provide to their staff. They pay their 16 employees well above minimum wage plus a monthly bonus, and they’ve supported nonprofits such as the Arkansas Hunger Relief Alliance, Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families, and Seis Puentes.
Schay said they source many ingredients locally, making them part of a larger ecosystem of businesses supporting each other. Some of their local partners include Ralston Family Farms, Guillermo’s Gourmet Coffee, Arkansas Natural Produce and Rock Town Distillery.
McDonald and Schay said they would like to eventually return to teaching full time and give more creativity and control of the business to their employees.
ROLL
(Left) Jill McDonald, right, and Wendy Schay, chefs at
FAMILY &
CATERING Surprise your family or coworkers with the best hot & spicy chicken you’ll ever taste! From birthday parties to holidays, corporate lunchins and events, getting Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken is sure to please the entire crowd!
READERS CHOICE A ARDS WINNER
GLAZE OF GLORY
A LOVE LETTER TO MARK’S DO-NUT SHOP.
BY DANIEL GREAR PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN CHILSON
Mark’s Do-Nut Shop has this power over me. If, in the crinkly hours of the day while still in bed, the thought of the North Little Rock institution crosses my mind for even a second, I will make the drive to Levy — usually still wearing my plaid pajama bottoms — as if possessed by a glaze-crazed spirit. If A, then B, and I have no control over A. In other words, the only thing standing between me and Mark’s on any given morning is the mere firing of synapses in my brain.
Yes, I’ll admit that I’m generally prone to indulgence, but no, I have not always had this relationship with donuts. In fact, as a young child, I briefly choked on a donut hole, a hazy but intense memory that resulted in years of
SIMPLE BLISS: The menu at Mark’s Do-Nut Shop is small but mighty.
misguided abstinence. Not until my 20s did I return in earnest to the land of fried dough, and not until encountering Mark’s two years ago did I really question what had been lost during my donut-less decades.
It wasn’t trendy digs or fancy toppings that pulled me out of Plato’s pastry-deficient cave, as it were. Truth be told, nothing about Mark’s could be described as even remotely immoderate, and that’s part of what makes it great. Minus a roof that bears a slight resemblance to the iconic architecture of Pizza Hut, the building’s exterior is nondescript, and the inside is perhaps even more lacking in particularity.
Aside from a compact, framed portrait of brightly colored donuts that look nothing like the goods sold at Mark’s and a handwritten sign that reads “Buckets $2.00,” little adorns the walls. Two bloated paper towel rolls sit atop an otherwise barren countertop, waiting to be spun by sticky fingers in search of relief. Four cramped table-and-two-chair-combos made of inexpensively laminated wood rest in the corner, mostly unused. Two flat-screen TVs are perched against the back of the room advertising prices that range from cheap to cheaper (a dozen for $12.44), but they recede into obscurity behind the hulking
EARLY RISERS: Mark’s restocks with hot donuts throughout the morning, but there’s no guarantee of freshness like showing up when they first open — at 5:30 a.m.
display case. No one is using these numbers to inform their decision-making; only a lunatic would buy in quantities smaller than a half-dozen.
The donuts speak for themselves. Other establishments may provide breadth, but Mark’s specializes in depth. The menu is small — swelling only into chocolate- and coconut-covered, jelly- and creme-filled, and cinnamon rolls and twists — and therefore mighty. The original glazed — the masterpiece on which everything else is just a riff — is so straightforwardly and bafflingly good that it might make you swear off all other sweet treats, including the rest of the offerings at Mark’s. Weighty, fluffy, resistant, sweet — it’s the platonic ideal of a donut.
In a world that demands extravagance, Mark’s dares to remain steadfast in its dedication to simplicity. And it’s been doing so since 1978. Unfortunately, that’s about the extent of what I can tell you about how the spot on Camp Robinson Road came to be. When I reached out about an interview, the older-sounding gentleman on the phone — presumably Mark — turned me down in exhaustion. “It’ll probably be good for business,” I suggested. Nope. He had taxes to do. It seems like Mark’s is plenty busy without our help.
FOR BROTHERS AARON AND YUSUKE JACKSON, BUYING MT. FUJI WASN’T JUST ABOUT BUSINESS, BUT ABOUT PRESERVING A PIECE OF THEIR CHILDHOOD.
BY RHETT BRINKLEY PHOTOGRAPHY BY SARA REEVES
Ordering the ochazuke special at Mt. Fuji is a bit like peering into the childhood photo albums of brothers Aaron Jackson and Yusuke Jackson, the revered sushi spot’s new owners. They’re new at the helm, but as the West Little Rock institution approaches its 40th year, the brothers are carrying on a tradition they’ve known since childhood.
An economical dish that marries leftover rice and leftover tea, the ochazuke of the Jackson brothers’ childhood is dressed up these days with miso butter grilled lobster and cured egg yolks shaved over the top tableside. The idea with a special like ochazuke, Aaron Jackson said, is to offer the experience of Japanese flavors using dishes they remember growing up eating, but in a way that “no one else is having it,” he said.
On March 31, 2023, just over six months after taking over, Yusuke Jackson stepped outside between the lunch and dinner shift and saw an EF-3 tornado charging right toward the Breckenridge Village shopping center. It would end up devastating entire neighborhoods and business districts in West Little Rock and beyond, but at the time, Aaron Jackson thought his brother was playing around, so he went
outside to see for himself.
“It was like ‘The Wizard of Oz’ out there,” Aaron Jackson said.
Both of their cars were totaled by the storm, and Mt. Fuji had to shut down for several weeks for repairs to the roof and HVAC system.
The brothers knew taking over the coveted restaurant would be a lot of hard work, but tornado recovery wasn’t on their list of expectations.
“A lot of chefs told me it was a bad idea,” Aaron Jackson said. “I got a lot of counsel from them saying, ‘It’s going to eat up so much of your time, and it’s gonna break your back.’”
“They weren’t lying,” Yusuke Jackson said with a laugh.
It’s rare, though, Aaron Jackson said, that “someone gets an opportunity to carry on the legacy of a restaurant they grew up in and love so much.”
Emiko Biggin opened Mt. Fuji with her husband, Bruce, in the Breckenridge Village shopping center in 1987. Back then, sushi wasn’t as ubiquitous as it is now, and Mt. Fuji gave many Little Rock diners — this reporter included — their first opportunity to experience nigiri, maki, sashimi and sake for the first time. Aaron and Yusuke’s mother, Fusae Jackson — a native of Miyako City in Japan’s Iwate Prefec-
LOVE BOAT: A spread of Mt. Fuji's offerings including geso karaage, matchacotta dessert, rainbow rolls, an assortment of nigiri and sashimi.
ture — was a server at the restaurant for nearly a decade. The Jackson brothers were close friends with Emiko and Bruce Biggin’s children, and Mt. Fuji was the place where they celebrated birthdays and special occasions. Aaron and Yusuke’s father, John Jackson, built a little Japanese grocery store downstairs beneath the restaurant and a small loft above the store where the kids played video games while their mothers worked in the restaurant. When business was slow, they would run around the restaurant’s mezzanine or do homework.
“Our families grew up very close to each other,” Aaron Jackson said. “Whenever we had Thanksgiving, Emiko-san would bring this platter of sushi. We would have the turkey and ham, but we got accustomed to having sushi for Thanksgiving because it was always on the menu.” Aaron, 30, and Yusuke, 26, grew up in Haskell, just south of Benton. When Aaron Jackson turned 19 and was old enough to run alcoholic beverages to tables, he got a job serving at Mt. Fuji. Their sister worked there, too, and so did many children of the first-generation staff. “It was all about family all the time,” Aaron Jackson said.
The Jackson brothers moved to Dallas in 2014. Aaron Jackson got a job at a ramen shop. As similar restaurants started popping up all over the country, he got a visit from an old
family friend.
“Emiko-san came to Dallas to kind of research a new Mt. Fuji ramen program, so she came to the restaurant and some other places in Dallas. She kind of followed my career,” he said.
Aaron Jackson described the Dallas restaurant scene as highly competitive; he worked at restaurants where stacks of resumes from ambitious servers, bartenders and cooks flowed through the front door, right along with hungry patrons. He still has brunch service nightmares.
That cutthroat environment also forced him to learn quickly from his industry peers, and his work as a line cook in 2014 turned into an executive chef position at a steakhouse only five years later.
Eventually, he’d land at contemporary Japanese restaurant Uchi, founded by James Beard Award-winning chef Tyson Cole. The experience at Uchi “opened my eyes to more than just plated steak and potatoes,” he said. “They were doing molecular gastronomy and all sorts of seasonal dishes.” He also met his wife, Shannon, while working there. She now runs the sushi program at Mt. Fuji.
Tasked with creating specials and new menus with every changing season, the gears were always turning for Aaron Jackson in Dallas. In such a high-stakes scene, stasis can be
IT’S RARE, AARON JACKSON SAID, THAT “SOMEONE GETS AN OPPORTUNITY TO CARRY ON THE LEGACY OF A RESTAURANT THEY GREW UP IN AND LOVE SO MUCH.”
the death of a restaurant — and the death of a chef’s career.
“That kind of pressure makes you do well, and if you don't, you don’t have a job,” he said.
Moving back to Little Rock to take over Mt. Fuji was always a daydream he entertained, but when he heard Biggin was thinking about retiring, the timing wasn’t great. The pandemic had just arrived, along with the couple’s first daughter.
“I kind of wanted something more secure, a paycheck I could see all the time,” he said.
In late 2021, though, Biggin began having conversations with Yusuke Jackson about purchasing Mt. Fuji.
“I didn’t have as much experience as Aaron,” Yusuke Jackson said, but he did have connections, having worked front-of-house gigs in Japanese restaurants in Dallas. And he’d always expected to return to Little Rock with his family someday. So he approached his brother about going into business together. Aaron Jackson knew other buyers would be interested, and that this might be their only chance.
So he used up his vacation days and the brothers got their Arkansas business license in June 2022.
If they hadn’t moved back to take over the restaurant, Yusuke Jackson said, Mt. Fuji probably wouldn’t be here anymore, “or it would be
FAMILY RESTAURANT: Brothers Yusuke (left) and Aaron Jackson used to do their homework at Mt. Fuji while their mother waited tables. Now they own the venerable Japanese eatery.
STAFF FAVORITE: A common home-cooked dish in Japan, Mt. Fuji takes miso saba (marinated grilled mackerel) to new heights with the addition of ponzu, pickled watermelon radish, crispy leeks and house chili oil.
SUSHI BAR: Aaron Jackson prepares sushi standing beneath the Japanese blue tile that was shipped to Mt. Fuji by boat in the 1980s.
something way different than what we remembered.”
The brothers had experience running kitchens and working busy front-of-house positions, but they’d never owned a business. Fortunately, they had a family friend who could show them the ropes. For eight weeks during the summer of 2022, they went to work at Mt. Fuji, waiting tables, cooking in the kitchen, and observing Biggin as she handled the business side. When they took over in August, the transition was almost seamless.
“She was very excited to retire because she'd been trying to do it for two years,” Yusuke Jackson said. “Literally, the day after that training period for us ended, she was in California with her kids and her family and enjoying some well-deserved time off.”
The brothers weren’t aware at first that the shopping center had been purchased for a revitalization project by a group of owners that included JTJ Restaurants, the Keet family powerhouse behind Petit & Keet, Cypress Social, several Arkansas Tazikis’s outlets, and four local Waldo’s Chicken & Beer locations.
“I think we came in at the right time because they wanted to keep Mt. Fuji, but they didn’t want to keep it in the shape it was in,” Aaron Jackson said. “That old space was really run down.”
The Keet family gave the brothers two options: close down and wait for the old space to be renovated, which would’ve taken several months, or keep working out of the old space until a brand new spot in the complex could be developed. The latter option made the transition more seamless, and the newly designed 3,600 square-foot space in the former Greenhaw’s clothing store is both new and familiar. It has a courtyard feel with high ceilings, an inviting sushi bar, and the same blue Japanese tiles from the old spot, delivered by boat from Japan in the 1980s. They debuted the new location in November 2023.
“It would have taken a lot longer to get where we are now without [the Keets],” Aaron Jackson said. “Definitely appreciate them. They have many restaurants, us being brandnew, they gave a lot of good information, taught us a lot.”
With all those changes, guests might assume that Mt. Fuji isn’t what it used to be. But most of the classic items remain on the menu. It’s still affordable, and the staff includes firstand second-generation Mt. Fuji workers.
Yusuke Jackson’s wife, Sofia, works with him in the front-of-house. Kenji Koga — a firstgeneration Japanese chef responsible for some of the traditional items on the menu — is still working at Mt. Fuji. Rey Antipolo, one of Little Rock’s most tenured sushi chefs, was a staple at Mt. Fuji, and his daughter Richelle is now a
IF THEY HADN’T MOVED BACK TO TAKE OVER THE RESTAURANT, YUSUKE JACKSON SAID, MT. FUJI PROBABLY WOULDN’T BE HERE ANYMORE, “OR IT WOULD BE SOMETHING WAY DIFFERENT THAN WHAT WE REMEMBERED.”
part-time server.
It was important to the brothers to retain longtime menu staples like katsudon and sukiyaki — dishes they ate there growing up. “Some people come for that one thing,” Aaron Jackson said.
“It’s authentic flavors and Japanese soul food you don’t get anywhere else,” Yusuke Jackson said.
But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Aaron Jackson to introduce new, creative dishes or for Yusuke Jackson to use his position in the front-of-house to educate guests about Japanese food and culture. A newer menu item, hamachi crudo — which Aaron is quick to point out landed on Mt. Fuji’s menu before it appeared on Carmy’s “chaos menu” in Season Two of “The Bear” — is a wonderful appetizer featuring yellowtail sashimi in a delicate citrus dressing served atop slices of orange with ponzu and ikura (salmon roe).
Aaron Jackson also introduced miso saba (miso marinated grilled mackerel) to the menu, a common home-cooked dish in Japan. It’s a favorite among the staff, but some customers are hesitant to try it, Aaron Jackson said, because mackerel has a reputation for being oily and having a strong fishy flavor. That’s what the miso marinade is for, he said. To make it a more composed dish, he pairs it with ponzu, pickled watermelon radish, crispy leeks and house chili oil.
The brothers celebrated their first anniversary in the new location with an omakase dinner, a popular Japanese dining experience that includes several courses of a chef-selected menu for guests typically seated around a sushi bar. It’s something the brothers had been talking about doing for a long time. For the special event, they brought in A5 wagyu, madai (Japanese sea bream), kanpachi (amberjack) and hon maguro (bluefin tuna), all from Japan. When word got out, many longtime fans of the restaurant expressed interest in attending. Some omakase restaurants will have a limited guest list with only one or two seatings a night. Mt. Fuji ended up seating 110 people.
“We should’ve kept it at 40,” Yusuke Jackson said, but “it was a great learning experience.”
As for the marinated mackerel, it hasn’t been a big hit, Aaron Jackson said, but he keeps running it anyway because it feels authentic. It was, after all, only a few decades ago that Little Rock diners found themselves squinting at a 1987 Mt. Fuji menu trying to pronounce words like nigiri and sashimi, terms that now roll off the tongue with familiarity. “Staying true to what our identity was” is important, Yusuke Jackson said. “Everyone loved it, we loved it, so why change it?”
BEST OF THE BUNCH
AND THE WINNERS ARE ...
BEST OVERALL RESTAURANT AROUND ARKANSAS
Winner: RŌBER :: Cocktails + Culinary (Benton)
Finalists: Fayetteville Taco & Tamale Co., Pea Farm Bistro (Cabot), Red Oak Steakhouse, Saracen Casino Resort (Pine Bluff), Wilson Cafe (Wilson).
BEST OVERALL RESTAURANT IN LITTLE ROCK/NORTH LITTLE ROCK
Winner: Raduno Brick Oven & Barroom
Finalists: Brave New Restaurant, Ciao Baci, El Sur Street Food Co., Southern Tail Brewing
BEST NEW RESTAURANT AROUND ARKANSAS
Winner: Ouachita Bar & Grill (Hot Springs)
Finalists: Bentoville (Bentonville), Calle Latin Cuisine (Fayetteville)
BEST NEW RESTAURANT IN LITTLE ROCK/NORTH LITTLE ROCK
Winner: Deluca’s Pizza
Finalists: The Bagel Shop/Rex’s, Problem Child Pizza, Rivera Italian Restaurant, Southern Tail Brewing
BEST CHEF AROUND ARKANSAS
Winner: Diana Bratton (Taco Mama, Hot Springs)
Finalists: John Harpool (Bocca Italian Eatery and Pizzeria, Fayetteville), Matías de Matthaeis (Red Oak Steakhouse, Pine Bluff), Matthew Cooper (Conifer, Bentonville), Rob Nelson (Tusk & Trotter, Bentonville)
BEST CHEF IN LITTLE ROCK/ NORTH LITTLE ROCK
Winner: Cash Ashley (Raduno Brick Oven & Barroom)
Finalists: Payne Harding (Cache Restaurant), James Hale (Allsopp & Chapple), Jill McDonald (The Croissanterie), Trevor Papsadora (The Bagel Shop/Rex’s)
Finalist: Don’s Southern Social, SQZBX Brewery & Pizza, Taco Mama
BEST OVERALL RESTAURANT IN ROGERS/BENTONVILLE
Winner: Tusk & Trotter American Brasserie (Bentonville)
Finalists: Monte Ne Inn Chicken (Rogers), Oven & Tap (Bentonville)
‘WHEN WE STILL KNEW ALMOST NOTHING’ A
EULOGY FOR WERNER TRIESCHMANN.
BY DOUGLAS A. BLACKMON
Werner Trieschmann — an accomplished playwright, a prominent figure in the Central Arkansas arts community and a regular contributor to the Arkansas Times — was born in Hot Springs on Sept. 9, 1964. After suffering a stroke in early December, he died on Dec. 26. He is survived by his wife, Marty, and two sons, John and Kit. The following has been excerpted from a eulogy given by Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Douglas A. Blackmon at Trieschmann’s memorial service, which took place on Jan. 3 at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Little Rock. Find the full version at arktimes.com/rock-candy.
John Werner Trieschmann IV — my dearest and closest friend in life — was a central figure in two-thirds of the 60 years we were both on Earth. By chance, we were born three days apart in September 1964 — but would not meet until 18 years later, at Hendrix College. At some point, though we only briefly ever lived in the same place after college, we became inseparable in less tangible ways.
From the day I met him, of course, Werner had his distinctive appearance, with one leg significantly longer than the other — and the giant custom-made shoe that he wore on one foot to balance things out. In those days, his whole body also had a kind of disorderly shape — all of that the cruel direct and indirect consequences of Gaucher’s disease, a genetic enzyme deficiency that stalked Werner from infancy.
If he is listening to us right now, it would pain him that I gave even a few seconds to the story of his medical challenges. He accepted that the huge shoes had to be the subject of jokes and wisecracks from juvenile boys, but beyond that he wanted nothing more than for it all to never be noticed, to affect nothing that happened in his life, to define him in no way, and he would tell me at this instant:
“Doug,” followed by a long pause. “Shut up.”
But I can defy him on this day. And I will, because the force of Werner’s presence in every other way was so great that his leg was the last and least defining aspect of his own self-consciousness and became the smallest detail about him in the minds of everyone who adored him. It was a couple of years later before my parents met Werner for the first time, and by then, they had heard me talk a thousand times of this boy with the very complicated last name. After finally seeing him in person, they were a little surprised that in all those stories of my friend, I had never once mentioned a giant shoe. That pleased me very much.
I would like to say my pull toward Werner as soon as I arrived at Hendrix, where we were both freshmen in 1982, was driven by the literary aspirations he was already expressing. I was having similar thoughts then, too. But it would be more truthful to admit that the primary attraction was that as far as I could tell, in Martin Hall’s giant room 101 that he shared with two roommates, the daily menu consisted of — in addition to the bottles of whatever Ensure was called back in 1982 — a nightly Domino’s Pizza delivery, the contents of a
fully stocked and operating antique CocaCola vending machine, and an endless supply of peanut butter and homemade chocolate chip cookies sent weekly by Mrs. Trieschmann, Werner’s adoring mother. I was hooked. A few months later, he turned off the lights in his room one afternoon and made me listen to the newest record he had acquired, U2’s justreleased “War.” At that point, I was still a trumpet player with an eight-track tape deck in my car. My most recent music purchase had probably been the last comeback album Elvis put out.
But there in the dark with Werner, I heard “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and its haunting helicopter-blades drumbeat. I was never again quite the same. And I realized, hazily, that Werner could see and hear things to which I was still blind.
From the first of our friendship, Werner and I seemed to find in each other something we felt was missing in ourselves. It was in its way a kind of love story. Not the romantic sort, but a bond — an affirmation — from which we each could navigate almost anything or at least believed we could. I truly can’t quite explain it. Maybe it was just that without fail we always could crack each other up.
At another point early on at Hendrix, Werner and I were in Veasey Hall — a women’s dormitory — doing homework in the one lobby waiting area where girls and boys were permitted to sit together, somewhat privately. (Yes, there were still bits of that prim propriety left even in the 1980s.) Werner and I, and presumably a girl or two whose names are now lost to history, were working on overdue papers to turn in the next day. I can’t recall which class.
I had been an instinctive grammarian since the fourth grade. I didn’t know the rules, but my spelling and punctuation and subject-verb agreements just flowed out correctly. The closest thing I ever had to an athletic talent. Or magic.
Deep into the night, Werner had me look over his paper. Flipping through the handwritten pages, I thought to myself: “My Godddddddd.”
His handwriting was abominable. Block letters and words turned in every direction. Some of it was inexplicable. His comprehension of concepts like topic sentences and paragraph formatting were — let’s just say — imperceptible.
My head spun. You can’t be a writer if you can’t even spell. That would be impossible.
But again, it was me who couldn’t quite see.
Werner’s way, as I came to understand, was from the beginning so powerfully and elegantly different. He looked at language the way a gem cutter assesses stones. He broke them open, examined each angle and facet, and ordered them in ways that refract a light that could not have been seen by anyone else.
That first became apparent when he was lured toward writing poetry — an impulse that, practically speaking, is the only professional ambition even more foolish today than playwriting or journalism. Yet Werner persisted, constructing verse and dissecting, word by word, lines of others that might seem impossibly opaque to most of the rest of us. In one of those poems, Werner described a rain-drenched October and an unidentified farmer watching the deluge:
These were the wettest days he and the land had ever known ...
I felt as if someone wounded the sky
And we all struggled to make sense of the bruise.
There was also a girl in the scene Werner was imagining:
As we stood by my window watching the trees bend
I gave her stories of the great storms of my life
While the world, exorcising some stored pain,
Swirled its insides around. When she laughed at the increasing hum on the roof, I felt tangled in her;
Like twisting thousands of tiny swirling fragments of snow in a shaken plastic Christmas scene.
I tried to tell her but I stuttered, the thunder stopped and she bolted from the house …
I saw her on the exposed road … her palms and face were turned up and she was spinning.
It was almost enough.
Those were the words of the boy Werner Trieschmann, perhaps 19 or 20 years old. When we still knew almost nothing.
Much of what we may remember vividly about Werner will be laughter. Because humor and wit were the tools with which he often cut those rough stones into gems. That humor was also part of the special gift he discovered for writing serious but
accessible plays designed for production by younger actors and directors. And those plays came to be performed scores of times, all over the United States and in nations all around the globe.
Less obvious about Werner’s work was how steadily he was always tangling with the most courageous of all writing — when the words were an honest examination of himself, his own life and the people and places he loved.
His very first play, titled “Given Faith,” was a painfully intimate, vulnerable, comical, personally dangerous examination of questions stripped directly from Werner’s own life. He wrote it in a class we took together, and afterward he and I just decided, “Well, let’s produce it.” So we borrowed a stage, got some lights, held auditions and put the thing on — two staged readings in March 1986.
I hadn’t read “Given Faith” since the last show. But after Werner died, grief compelled me back into my files, and after digging for a while, there it was. I pulled out a folder and inside was the very first script he showed me, and then a second, much more refined version. There was the flier calling for actors, a program from the performance and my handwritten notes from rehearsals, interspersed on the page with notes from him in that beautifully awful scrawl of his handwriting. There we were, talking again, right on the page. I wept.
When I finally reread the script that night, after all those years, I was struck by how much
more profound it was, how much braver it had been, than either of us understood at the time.
He had spent the previous summer having a series of operations to finally fix the injury that had caused one leg to end up longer than the other. He went to the Mayo Clinic for a torturous process of bone grafts and other procedures, most of that time accompanied only by his mother. For that entire summer, they suffered together through the medical drama, and at the same time engaged in an endless dialogue about an epic struggle unfolding within their family.
I had the joy of getting to know that family when Dr. and Mrs. Trieschmann were at the absolute full flowering of their lives. He was a prominent pediatrician in Hot Springs, quietly working behind the scenes to push for more of the research that would eventually lead to the transformational treatment for Werner’s condition. She was a voluble, loving homemaker devoted beyond measure to her four boys.
In that same fulsome life moment, Werner’s parents and younger brothers were leaving the traditional Methodist Church and moving to a newly formed charismatic, evangelical congregation nearby. But Werner had spent his whole life as the consummate, committed Methodist kid. All that church camp, all the Methodist conferences, all the people he already knew at the age of 16, 17, 18 — it was a transition Werner simply couldn’t make.
With Werner lying in bed, and his mother
earnestly trying to find more ways to distract him, all they could truly talk about — or around — was the rift in their family.
Less than a year later, Werner wrote his first play, taking the experience of that summer of painful surgeries — so powerful and lifealtering a kind of experience, so fresh and wounded and vulnerable — and immediately turning it into a piece of art which he then displayed to the world.
Reading the play, I was also transported back to those days. I could hear Mrs. Trieschmann’s charmed voice and Werner’s. How had the unifying forces of love and faith suddenly come to be things that were dividing them? Neither could answer that, and the play is an often funny — and just as often grueling — exploration of that struggle. In the final lines, with mother and son alone in the hospital room, the son says:
“Isn’t there a passage in the Bible that says something like, ‘And man shall be given faith’? That’s the thing, Mom. I wasn’t given faith. God didn’t give me the faith in him that you … have. I have faith in my power to see. I can’t say that I understand what I’m supposed to do with it. I might never know. But at least I can recognize me in it.”
In the play, and in actual life, Werner and his parents never found a full resolution of that divide. Yet they did find something even more important: the way a family’s love endures anyway.
Werner was discovering his own way, too. Those words — “I have faith in my power to see” — were not a rejection of faith. They were an enunciation of his gift and a faith in his quest to find that key. That’s what drove Werner’s creative force, and he could never abandon it.
By crazy chance, Werner and I talked more in the three weeks before his stroke than we had talked in the previous three years. We went over our old man health issues — there was nothing to suggest anything terrible was about to happen to him. He was very distressed about the election that had just occurred. As a response, he had just started a Substack column, and his first installment was a conversation between the two of us about what to make of it all. What he was most concerned about wasn’t who had been elected president, but those same questions
BEST BUDDIES: From left: Eulogist Douglas A. Blackmon, Rex Lisle and Werner Trieschmann.
he’d been pursuing all of his life — about unnecessary division, the splintering of society and how to reach across those rips.
Over all his published 26 plays, Werner compelled his audiences, first and loudest, to laugh at their own foolish pride. He knew the healing nature of that from his own endless physical struggles. More importantly, Werner instinctively understood the liberation that comes with revealing the comedy in human self-importance. He saw our debilitating fears, our hollow demands on each other and almost all our worst inclinations for what they plainly are: laughable absurdities.
At the same time, Werner was no fool. The resilience, and danger, of some absurdities worried him deeply in those last weeks of his conscious life. He was seeking new ways to puncture them. But his core answer remained the same: The threats we sense most ominously are mostly our own baseless concoctions. He kept telling us those fears would vanish if we willingly face them, be honest about our own failures, forgive those of others and release trivial divisions. Werner was certain the monsters growling in our closets would disintegrate if only we allowed him to fling open the doors, pour in the glow of his gifts and make us laugh at our pompous alarmism.
And if Werner heard me and could respond right now, he would say this whole thing of mine over the past several minutes has been a preposterous spectacle in which I should never have engaged.
Werner Trieschmann loved his family and friends and mentors, and lived a life of gusto, laughter, bravery, affection, intellect and creative hunger.
At the hospital in those last days, when many of us saw him, Werner’s light was still lingering. We could see it glimmer, sometimes more brightly than others. I am certain he understood that people who loved and appreciated all the dimensions of his life were surrounding him. He gave back to us gentle signals — the most he had left.
Today, I feel robbed, and a little angry to be honest. Robbed of all the laughter and revelations that he was yet to bring. I doubt that wound ever quite heals. But I know I am so fortunate — as are all who knew him in any way — to have heard for four decades Werner Trieschmann’s ridiculous, blessed cackle. Rest in peace, Werner. Rest in peace.
Scan the QR code to donate to the Werner Trieschmann Memorial Fund.
TOUCH AND GO: The female orgasm-cannabis connection is about more than sex and getting high.
HIGHS AND ‘OHS’
CAN
CANNABIS
CURE FEMALE ORGASMIC DISORDER?
BY GRIFFIN COOP
Female orgasms and cannabis, a pair of topics unlikely to come up in mixed company, are at the center of an effort focused on women’s health across the country and in Arkansas.
Last year, a Florida-based researcher teamed up with a Centerton woman who calls herself the “Orgasm Queen” to try to get Arkansas regulators to approve female orgasmic disorder as a qualifying condition for a medical marijuana card. Also known as anorgasmia, this disorder describes delayed, infrequent or absent orgasms in people with vaginas, even after sexual arousal and adequate sexual stimulation.
The quest to add the disorder to Arkansas’s 18 qualifying conditions was always an uphill battle. First, conservative Arkansas probably wouldn’t top anyone’s list of the most accepting states for discussions of female orgasms or cannabis.
Second, the only accepted conditions for the state medical marijuana program were approved by voters in a statewide amendment that legalized medical marijuana in 2016. One other attempt to add an additional qualifying condition — bipolar affective disorder — was rejected by the Arkansas Department
of Health in 2018.
The team advocating to add female orgasmic disorder submitted a 198-page petition with articles and research, as well as letters from people working in the field. But once again, the Department of Health was not swayed. In November, Dr. Jennifer Dillaha, director of the health department, rejected the proposal. Dillaha said the research was insufficient. And she pointed to comments from Arkansas Surgeon General Dr. Kay Chandler, an OBGYN, who said the field needed more rigorous studies.
Dillaha’s decision can be appealed to the Pulaski County Circuit Court, or the applicants can reapply when they have new medical evidence.
TAKING ORGASM SERIOUSLY
While a female orgasm-cannabis connection may sound a little kooky, Suzanne Mulvehill, a Florida resident, takes it very seriously. It’s about a lot more than sex and getting high, as she explains it.
Mulvehill holds a doctorate from the International Institute of Clinical Sexology and has published research on the effects of cannabis use on female
“BRINGING PLEASURE INTO THE BEDROOM IS VERY IMPORTANT. IT CAN MAKE OR BREAK A RELATIONSHIP.”
orgasm. As Mulvehill describes the situation, it makes perfect sense.
Women who can’t achieve orgasm have higher rates of mental health problems, they have more anxiety and self-esteem issues, and they use more pharmaceutical medications. There’s no conventional medication for female orgasm disorder, she said.
And why shouldn’t female orgasmic disorder be taken as seriously as erectile dysfunction? From Viagra to Cialis to local pharmacies peddling generics, there are plenty of ads on TV for men’s sexual issues. The women’s side of the sexual equation is stigmatized, though. For Mulvehill, this is an issue of equality.
“It’s a human right,” she said.
Mulvehill came to the issue through personal experience. She struggled with orgasms for 30 years and visited four sex therapists to no avail. Shame and feelings of inadequacy followed.
She wasn't a fan of cannabis, but she gave it a whirl, and it worked. The mind-opening experience led her to sell her business, return to school, and get a Ph.D. on the topic.
Mulvehill said research on the issue goes back to the 1960s and that when cannabis was outlawed in the 1930s, it was known as “the love weed.” So, someone must have been pairing sexual pleasure and cannabis back then.
Mulvehill isn’t sure how cannabis helps in the orgasmic equation, but she’s published a few theories. One is that cannabis creates an altered state of consciousness for the woman, so she isn’t so worried about whether she will orgasm.
Another theory is that cannabis reduces the activity in the brain where trauma is stored. Women who have had sexual trauma may have difficulty achieving orgasm, but benefit when cannabis reduces that trauma in the brain.
Regardless, Mulvehill said she has heard from people who say it works.
In one instance, a woman Mulvehill interviewed for her research told her she was raped as a teen. As an adult, she could not orgasm, either through masturbation or with a partner. At her partner’s suggestion, she tried cannabis, and she orgasmed the
first time she used it. Mulvehill said she has heard from several women who suffered female orgasmic disorder as a result of sexual trauma and benefited from cannabis.
ACROSS THE STATES
Mulvehill serves as the executive director of the Female Orgasm Research Institute and its branch, the Women’s Cannabis Project, where her advocacy, in partnership with volunteers, led to petitions in 11 states last year. Two states — Connecticut and Illinois — officially approved the condition, New Mexico gave a preliminary approval and five states — Arkansas, Mississippi, Ohio, Oregon and Maryland — denied it. Others are still considering it. An appeal is underway in Oregon.
In each state, Mulvehill partners with locals to advance the cause. In Arkansas, Sarah Hanson of Centerton answered the call.
A certified intimacy coach, Hanson mostly works with female clients and some couples on healthy relationships. She recently wrote a book, “Consent Is the New Foreplay.”
Hanson said she’s a “huge advocate for cannabis” and has used cannabis for her own medical issues for many years. Hanson came by her “Orgasm Queen” moniker after someone called her that and the name stuck.
Orgasm isn’t always the goal with sex, but problems with orgasm can lead to problems in a relationship, Hanson said.
“Bringing pleasure into the bedroom is very important," she said. “It can make or break a relationship.”
With no conventional medicine available for treating female orgasmic disorder, Mulvehill said she believes women who have sought out cannabis for this issue have “figured it out.”
Orgasm is tied to women's confidence, she said, just like erectile dysfunction is tied to self-esteem for men. Mulvehill called for equality and normalizing conversation on the issue.
“It’s about women’s health and wellbeing,” she said.
Hanson and Mulvehill said they don’t plan to appeal the Arkansas Department of Health’s ruling but will resubmit their petition.
MARKETPLACE
NOTICE OF FILING APPLICATIONS FOR SELL ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES FOR CONSUMPTION ON THE PREMISES Notice is hereby given that the undersigned has filed an application with the Alcoholic Beverage Control Division of the State of Arkansas for a permit to sell alcoholic beverages for consumption on the premises described as: 5705 Kavanaugh Blvd, Little Rock, 72207, Pulaski County. Said application was filed on January 22, 2025. The undersigned states that he/ she is a resident of Arkansas, of good moral character; that he/ she has never been convicted of a felony or other crime involving moral turpitude; that no license to sell alcoholic beverages by the undersigned has been revoked within five (5) years last past; and, that the undersigned has never been convicted of violating the laws of this State, or any other State, relative to the sale of controlled beverages. Name of Applicant: Jose De Jesus Valadez. Name of Business: Mucho Loco Mexican Restaurant. Sworn to before me this 23th day of January, 2025. Nathan Clay, Notary Public. My commission Expires: April 29th, 2034.
1. Come to The Arlington Hotel and experience the ultimate relaxation with a luxurious Couples Body Wrap and Facial ($325 value). Enjoy a detoxifying and hydrating body wrap followed by a customized facial, a rejuvenating experience that cleanses, exfoliates, and nourishes your skin, leaving you feeling refreshed and radiant. Or, reconnect with your partner during a deeply relaxing 80-minute massage ($255 value). Enjoy a customized full-body massage side-by-side in a tranquil setting where our skilled therapists use soothing techniques to relieve tension and enhance your well-being. 239 Central Ave, Hot Springs National Park. 501-609-2587. arlingtonhotel.com 2. Look your best this Valentine's Day and keep all of your luscious makeup organized with this Makeup Bag from Rhea Drug. It's the perfect gift for the glamor girlie in your life! 2801 Kavanaugh Blvd., Little Rock, 501-663-4131, rheadrugstore.com. 3. Spice things up this Valentine’s Day with a sexy surprise from Cupid’s Lingerie. This sultry Bubblegum Slip from Exposed and Lace Mini Dress from Leg Avenue is sure to your partner’s jaw on the floor. Keep things hot through the cold weather and come by Cupid’s for the perfect Valentine’s gift today. 3920 W 65th St., Little Rock, 501-565-2020, shopcupids.com Don't Forget Your
Less is always more!
3 2
Keep it hot and steamy! Make them blush!
The snow began by midafternoon, drifting down lazily in big, wet flakes. The Observer had been waiting a few hours to see the promised precipitation that had all but dominated the local news cycle for a week. After a quick trip through the supermarket for a few last-minute “I’m snowed in” purchases (a carton of soft drinks and some chips and salsa for wintry snacking), we emerged into the parking lot to smell snow. That’s right, you could smell it, like dry rain evaporating before it hits the ground. We returned to our apartment under threatening skies, anxious to avoid what forecasters were already calling a blizzard.
Had we expected the snow to come howling in like a lion? Maybe not, but neither had we anticipated this silent seesawing dance of starry snowflakes, gentle enough to lull The Observer into a kind of trance.
We are no big fan of snow, which has made it difficult to cope with folks who lose their minds over the stuff. We refer mostly to people who knee-jerkingly cancel all work or academic obligations at the first sign of frozen precipitation, or who strip the store shelves bare of bread and milk as if preparing for months-long nuclear fallout. Yes, snow can be pretty at first glance, but it’s also a damned nuisance. Ice, its sinister relative, tends to be more predominant in Southern states like Arkansas. We don’t know anyone who looks forward to ice.
SNOWED IN
Winter declared itself The Observer’s enemy 25 years ago during another big ice and snow event that left us and our family stranded on the interstate for three days. We’d been en route from Texas to Hot Springs, trying to outrun the storm, when we hit an ice patch on the highway and went into a tailspin. The situation was exacerbated by the tons of semi trucks bearing down on our helplessly spinning car. Uninjured at least, we ended up camping in a Red Cross gymnasium with dozens of other stranded motorists. Our daughter caught pneumonia; The Observer shared a bathroom with 40 other men. Days later, things thawed enough for us to continue our journey.
Fortunately, this year’s event was less dangerous. We’d be able to work from home and hang with our dog, whose exposure to snow has been limited to the occasional outdoor walk. We had more than enough food (and vodka) to survive and the world’s streaming services on hand for entertainment. Within hours, our apartment complex resembled a winter wonderland. A few trips out with the dog revealed this was almost purely a snow event, with no ice to ruin things in Central Arkansas. Our neighbors to the south had worse problems: ice-laden trees, toppling powerlines. Here, though, it was all good news. Soft, fluffy snow meant The Observer ran a much smaller risk of breaking a hip on the sidewalk and reduced the chances
of losing power. An all-electric home can be a sitting duck for a trauma-inducing, multiday outage.
We cooked. We cleaned. We rearranged our sock drawer (by color and cold-weather usefulness). We wrote in our journal. We resisted the urge to stream or spend too much time online. We binged a Scandinavian crime drama called “The Killing,” which we found vastly depressing. We read The New York Times online (also depressing). We caught up on our music listening. By the end of the second day, The Observer was bored and ready to go for a hike.
By our unofficial measurement, we received about a foot of snow in our complex. It melted and re-froze overnight, creating slippery conditions. The Observer has perfected a kind of stomping lurch, comical to witness, that keeps us reasonably safe in frozen slush. The dog, however, never quite figured out what was going on. We find nothing more sadly amusing than watching a supposedly agile creature on four legs slip and slide on black ice. It makes us feel a little less inferior.
Unlike those fortunate Americans who see only the upside of impromptu winter vacations, The Observer was glad to see the snow retreat under sunnier skies. Though a few icy patches remain, the January storm has been reduced to a few skinny snowmen with tree-branch arms and bare, pointy heads. They shall not be mourned.
