hitching post turned home | w[h]m pt. 2

I was staying in the annex of my Great Aunt Sue and Great Uncle Steve’s historic hitching post-turned-family home and nursery in Garfield, Arkansas, when I made the promise to Christin…

Their place stood on 50 acres of roughly kept and proudly stewarded land that they had accrued over nearly 50 years of living in rural Northwest Arkansas. Originally growing up outside of Philadelphia and Chicago, respectively, they had up-and-moved to the southern Heartland in the early 70’s in search of their own piece of land and personal freedom - they had found it in Garfield. There, they had started and closed businesses, raised a family (and countless plants and animals), gathered as much priceless junk - from old vending machines to model homes - as they had stories about it, and even got to know the Waltons as they quietly grew their empire down the road in Bentonville.

I first visited there when I was seven or so. My grandpa, grandma, mom, and I had hopped in my grandpa’s mid-90s, wood-paneled Dodge Caravan and drove down there from suburban Chicago for a week. I remembered their nursery being one of the first places to capture my imagination. During that week, I had stomped on fire ants, dragged ticks home on me after long days of exploration, and even developed a doting crush on their teenage nursery hand. I knew it was a place that I needed to revisit and create more memories.

Sue and Steve were the last people I interviewed for why [here] matters. In the open awning of their 150 year old barn-turned-dining room, we contemplated and discussed the past half century of their lives over the span of two and a half hours. I left with a deep appreciation for their lived experience, their lasting relationship, and the newfound knowledge that my maternal grandma’s lineage traced all the way back to the American Revolution. 

I also left with a profound consideration for their politics and convictions as ardent Trump supporters who faithfully believed in every American’s rights and abilities to make a life for themselves. Beyond that interview, we had countless conversations over the month that they generously welcomed me into their lives, church and home. This would expose me the interpersonal harm they had experienced due to their politics, their disdain for corrupt politicians and discriminatory rural policing, and their earnestness in their beliefs. When I would see a photo of my great aunt and second cousin in Washington DC on January 6th nearly two years later, those interactions offered me a perspective that would only allow me to seek for deeper understanding, rather than quick condemnation.

Before them, I had sat down with 80 other remarkable, diverse and good-natured people from three distinct regions of the country - Northwest Indiana, Northeast Tennessee and Northwest Arkansas - on the subject of why here? Why did they call that specific place home? Why was that where they chose to pursue their impact on the world and felt supported or even challenged in doing so?

Every person I interviewed on my trip opened up to me in ways I wouldn’t have expected. Some people cried with me, some shared their deepest hopes and dreams, and some even sheltered me, and gave me the keys to their literal homes and buildings for the duration of my stay in their community. It could have been due to the clear and concise way I communicated the intent of my project, or the way that I carried myself in an open, unassuming and receptive way when asking people to share their life stories with me moments after we had met.

…but I think it ultimately came down to the fact that, given the honest chance, most people want to share, to be known and to be seen by others.

Aunt Sue & Uncle Steve