Listing Through Life

I found out about this place when I was searching online for something to do in Woodruff County, which isn’t packed full of interesting. But this place looked intriguing. It’s owned by the guy who started Doe’s Eat Place in Little Rock. When his tamale supplier closed down, he began making them at his farm. Then he decided to turn half his barn into a restaurant. We drove over on a Saturday evening — it’s only open on Fridays and Saturdays from 5:00-10:00 p.m.

The Tamale Factory is out in the country — way out in the country — south of Augusta. The only sign is a small one on the front of the barn.

We arrived right at 5:00, but there had been a leak of something or other, and they were busy cleaning things up. We had to wait perhaps 20 minutes. We got to chatting with two older couples who were there before us. The assured us it was worth the wait.

It wasn’t until we’d been talking to them for 15 minutes or so that I was informed that the man in the cowboy hat was the owner. I don’t think I’d said anything I needed to be embarrassed about. What I did say was, “Wait … you’re the owner and they still make you wait?” They laughed.

It isn’t a large place — maybe 25 tables total — and they were all filled shortly after we arrived. We ordered six tamales and a filet. We told our waitress we were splitting the steak, and she picked up on the fact that I like my steak a little rarer than my wife does. When it came, they’d cut it in half and actually cooked hers a little longer, which was very nice. The tamales, steak, fries, and garlic bread were all delicious. The salad wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad. Our waitress was very friendly. But since the menu is very similar to that at the much closer Doe’s Eat Place, we may not get back. But we’re very glad we went once.

We enjoyed the food and the experience very much, although, for the price, it’s probably a good thing it’s a three-hour round-trip to get there. At few years back, it was a nominee for the Arkansas Food Hall of Fame, but wasn’t chosen, perhaps because it’s only open 10 hours a week.

We drove through Bald Knob National Wildlife Refuge after we ate and saw a ton of herons, egrets, ibises, and wading birds. We didn’t get out of car much — it was 100 degrees and humid.

When I put this museum on my Arkansas Bucket List, I didn’t really know a lot about it. Had I known, I probably would have put it on my maybe-do list. For starters, the museum in housed in the Pine Bluff Convention Center. The directions on its website took me to a lawyer’s office about a mile and a half away. When I finally found the right building, there was no signage anywhere about the HOF. I circled around until I spotted a small sign that pointed to the main entrance. I parked in an empty lot and walked inside to find this.

There was an office to my right, but a sign on the door said it was closed until 2:00. I took a few more steps and found myself looking through a large window into a conference room where a meeting was going on. Three of the people in the meeting jumped up and came to talk to me. I said, “I’m looking for the entertainers hall of fame. Am I anywhere close?” A very, very cheerful woman said yes, I was. I replied, “Good. Because I don’t feel like I am.” She asked why and I pointed to the large empty room. She appointed a guy to lead me in the right direction and gave me a sincere “Thank you for visiting.”

The guy let me to the black double doors visible in the above photo and pulled out a key. He let me into the lobby of the convention center auditorium and guided me to the guestbook. Things began to make sense to me when I noticed I was the first visitor in more than three weeks and only the 21st since the end of February, or one a week — except that some of the visitors came together, so it’s more like one visit every 10 days.

Near the guestbook was a glass-enclosed statue of Johnny Cash. I pushed a red button and heard him singing “I Walk the Line.” The web page says his animatronic, but he didn’t move while I was watching.

The HOF display cases lined the lobby.

There were information plaques on each member, with photos and memorabilia. The dress in this display was worn by Mary Steenburgen in one of her movies.

Ears from some actor who appeared in one of the Star Trek shows.

I didn’t bother to read the plaques or study all the displays. I’d only heard of about 10 of the members, and most of it was stuff I could find on line. Beside, the air conditioning wasn’t working in the convention center and it was about 85 in there. I stayed about 20 minutes.

I did a little research on my computer to find out what was going on. The HOF was kicked off by the Arkansas General Assembly who soon turned it over the Department of Parks and Tourism. Several cities wanted it, but Pine Bluff got it, along with the state money that came with it. The requirement was that the member be born in Arkansas and achieve national renown.

Things kicked off in 1996 with the induction of Johnny Cash and Glen Campbell, along with some others. Every two or three years, more people were chosen, but the lists gradually got shorter and shorter until they ran out of famous Arkansan entertainers. The last ones were selected in 2015 and then, it appears, people just lost interest. In 2017, the whole thing was turned over to Pine Bluff where it sits today, nearly forgotten.

I’ve decided to leave it on my bucket list because, although the museum isn’t exciting, the list of members is fun. In fact, I’ve changed the focus of my bucket list to go down the list and find out more about each of them. I’ll listen to a song, watch a movie, or read a book by each (although I think a few were directors and producers and such — not sure what I’ll do when I come to them.

While I was in the lobby, the meeting started up again, and I could see several people staring at me as I made the long walk across the empty warehouse-like room.

Cane Creek lake was created in 1973 by the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission, using federal funds. It sits on the border between the West Gulf Coastal Plain (primarily timberlands) and the Mississippi Alluvial Plain (the Delta farmland). If you look the map, you can see that all the land to the east is flat and essentially treeless while to the west, there are some small ridges and a lot more trees.

The lake is still filled with standing trees.

As with so many Arkansas state parks, it offers a boat ramp, a camp ground, and a picnic area. There are also some trails, including a 15-mile one that circles the lake. Since it was a July afternoon with temperatures in the low 90’s, I passed on that one. But I wanted to do something to earn my stamp, so I decided to walk down the Delta View Trail until I decided to turn around. That was about 3/4 of a mile because the trail was getting narrower with a lot of grass and bushes overhanging it, and I figured I’d had my quota of chicks and tiggers ticks and chiggers for the year.

They were pretty woods though.

Unlike some other parks, I wouldn’t mind returning to this one when the weather was cooler and the birds were out and about.

Fun fact to know and tell. Cane Creek Lake spreads alongside Bayou Bartholomew, the longest bayou in the world. It extends for 364 winding miles from north of Pine Bluff down into Louisiana. (A bayou is defined as a slow-moving body of water usually found in flat, low-lying areas.) I crossed it on the bridge just before I got to the park.

This museum and its artifacts were once the Arkansas County Museum until the state took it over. Like any county museum, it has it dresses and uniforms donated by locals, a mock-up of a doctor’s office and general store, antique housewares, and, of course, Indian pottery. But as a state park, the things are arranged nicely.

The park sits on a wedge of land by the turnoff to Arkansas Post National Memorial.

I stopped in once before a year or so ago, before I was collecting passport stamps. On that visit, the sole employee was painting a door. Today, the sole employee was replacing vent filters in the visitor center. On both occasions, I was the sole visitor.

The Refeld-Hinman Log House is the only original structure. It was built in 1877 about half a mile from where it now sits — presumably without the wheelchair ramp. It was constructed without nails.

It’s a dog-trot cabin, which means the two halves of the house are separated by an open section in the middle where much of the family activity took place. I think it’s a great idea.

The visitor center was built to look like a southern-style house. There’s a display of women’s fashions inside, and a room made up like a parlor. Next to it is the summer kitchen building.

The filter-changing lady told me there were two original buildings. The cabin was one, and the other is a playhouse on display inside the main exhibit building. I guess it’s a building …

It was built in the 1930 by a state congressman for his daughter. It has a wood-burning fireplace, electricity, and a screened back porch.

The inside is furnished with kid-sized furniture in the living room, kitchen, and bedroom.

Other exhibits in the building include this cigarette box from WWI. The story of how it found its way to rural Arkansas may be the most interesting thing about it.

This moonshine still was discovered and confiscated in 1978 near Tichnor, Arkansas. It could produce 50 gallons a day.

And of course Indian pottery. You can’t have a  museum in Arkansas without Indian pottery.

I looked at everything there was to see, and even read most of the signs, and I don’t think I was there half an hour.

I discovered this place on Roadside America, which included it because it’s the official adoption center for Big Mouth Billy Bass. These were novelty gifts in the early 2000’s, which consisted of an animatronic bass on a wall plaque that had a motion sensor. Set it off, and it would sing “Take Me to the River,” “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” and “Sea Cruise.” It was amusing for about the first three-and-a-half minutes and then just got annoying. I don’t think anybody bought one for themselves — they were all gag gifts, I’m sure. There were all sorts of variations, including one with a Santa hat. (They’re still around — you can buy one online if you’re interested.)

What to do when you got sick of it after 10 minutes? One option is to donate it to Flying Fish restaurant in Little Rock. They have a lot of them.

The restaurant is on the main drag in Little Rock, not far from Junction Bridge, so I headed there for lunch.

I ordered the fried shrimp poor boy loaf because I couldn’t remember ever having a poor boy and because it was relatively inexpensive.

It was good, much better than I’d expected. As you can see, the shrimp was flattened. By the time I’d finished, I’d had plenty — the last few bites were something of a chore.

I sat back in a corner. While I was eating, a guy came by to show his friend the Billy Bass his daughter had donated. Her name was written on the wall below a Santa bass.

That concluded my adventure in Little Rock.