The fireworks drew forth a newcomer from California, whose curiosity was piqued. Early in the evening of Independence Day, the whistles, pops and explosions had already commenced on Norristown Mountain.
The roughly five-mile-long ridge serves as Russellville's western flank, buffering the Pope County seat from the Arkansas River, just where it becomes Lake Dardanelle. (The old 19th-century river port of Norristown has a fascinating history, including its status as the site where Edward Payson Washbourne painted "The Arkansas Traveler." But that's another story for another day.)
Russellville holds its annual Fourth of July fireworks celebration downtown at the old train station, well past sundown. And it's a good one. But for decades, one family on about 10 acres atop Norristown Mountain has served as something of a warm-up act.
Its celebration is not so much one to watch, the late-day summer sun masking full visual appreciation. This Norristown show is more about the audio--the explosions, both of which induced the visit from the new neighbor.
During a rough intermission, he approached, hand outstretched, and was welcomed; family members awaited a polite complaint. Turns out, the visitor--we'll call him Bill--was a fan.
"Where did you get those fireworks? They're great."
Bill and his wife are newly moved to Russellville from California, and his IT job affords him the ability to work remotely. When asked, "Why Arkansas?" his response was direct, as he motioned to the pyrotechnic launch pad.
"So we could do stuff like this."
And in an instant, one man had encapsulated the motivation behind the exodus of Californians into flyover country and states like Texas . . . and Arkansas.
Welcome to Arkansas, Bill. We're not perfect, but neither are we ashamed to celebrate what's good about this ongoing American experiment in democratic republicanism.
We think there might be something to this "Arkansas as hidden treasure" talk. If nothing else, a rural family can still shoot fireworks here. Apparently, that kind of simple appeal stretches even further than we realized.