Listing Through Life

OK, it’s really Crater of Diamonds, but there was something vaguely farcical about the whole thing, so I like my name better.

After touring Historic Washington, I drove north for about 45 minutes to this park. The diamond deposit here is the eighth-largest in the world, the only one in the United States that’s “productive,” and the only one in the world that’s open to the public.

I toured the small museum which featured replicas of the significant diamonds found at the park and gave the history of several unsuccessful attempts to mine diamonds commercially on the spot. Then I watched a short video on how to look for diamonds and paid my $7.00 which gave me access to the field.

And field it is — 37 acres of plowed dirt.

I called my wife to ask her how large a diamond she wanted me to find, but she wasn’t particular. She just said “the larger the better.”

There are two shelters where visitors can wet screen the dirt for diamonds. You can also rent equipment for dry screening, but I declined. I opted instead for a method I call “wander about with my hands in my pockets and stare at the ground.” Here I am demonstrating my method.

And here I am holding up a sorta-diamond-shaped rock of no value whatsoever that I discovered while using my method.

There are signs scattered about the area indicating where large diamonds have been found in the past. The most recent find, as far as I could tell, was in 1981, giving you an idea of my odds. The woman at the gift shop told me that an average of two diamonds are found each day, but the vast majority of them are small and not of gem quality.

After about 45 minutes of fruitless searching I decided that if I couldn’t find any rocks, I could at least stack some. And that’s where a bit of irony comes into play. I picked up a silver-dollar-sized rock to cap my stack and noticed a bright white stone tucked into a crevice. Diamonds, or so I’m told, are slick, and dirt doesn’t stick to them. Such was definitely the case with this BB-sized stone. I picked at it with my finger to get a better look. It popped out immediately and fell to the ground and I couldn’t find it again. Was it a diamond? I’ll never know. It was certainly the most diamond-like thing I saw while I was there.

I picked up a pocketful of stones because I didn’t want to go away empty-handed. A few of them were somewhat interesting, as stones go, but none of them were diamonds. The place closed at 5:00, so after an hour and 15 minutes, I had to leave. As I was walking out, I happened upon this man who was carting about two trailers full of diamond-mining equipment. I overheard him say that, with all his time and effort and equipment, he had found the exact same number of diamonds that I had.

This park wasn’t on my list of things to do this day, but when I saw it was only eight miles from Clinton’s house, I decided to head over. When I mentioned this to my tour guide (Mike Huckabee’s cousin), she got very excited and told me I couldn’t miss two things.

1. On the way, I would pass a World War II air field filled with row upon row of FEMA trailers purchased for victims of Katrina but never used.
2. Eating lunch at the Williams’ Tavern Restaurant.

The FEMA trailers were easy to find. I took these photos out my car window as I drove by. I did a quick search for camper prices on the Internet. It appears that they cost between $25,000 and $40,000 each. I can’t even guess how many are sitting in this field rotting away. Take a look at your tax dollars at work. (You can click to enlarge the photos, but it will just depress you.)

Washington grew up along the Southwest Trail, the route followed by pioneers on their way to Texas and points west. It was established in 1824 and thrived until 1874 when the railroad bypassed the town. Two separate fires destroyed many of the town’s buildings but many remain and in 1973 the area was turned into a Arkansas State Park.

A Wednesday in February is a great time to visit if you don’t like crowds. I had the entire town to myself for the most part. I walked into the visitor center in the Hempstead County Courthouse (above — 1874) and wandered around the displays for a few minutes before a woman popped out of a doorway somewhere in the back and asked if she could help me. I told her I didn’t have a whole lot of time, but that I’d like to see what I could. She told me that eight of the buildings were open to the public and that I could tour all eight of them for $8.00, or, I could pick any two and tour them for $5.00. Since most of them were just old buildings without any particular historic significance, I went with the “two for $5” plan. I began to realize just how alone I was when the woman grabbed a walkie-talkie and informed the guides that an actual tourist was in town. I interrupted her to let her know I was eating lunch at the Williams’ Tavern first, and she passed this information on the the guides.

The tavern/house was built in 1832 in the town of Marlbrook, not far from Washington, and brought here in 1985. Two front rooms are used for dining, but not on this day. Three women were planning a party at table next to mine, and an older couple came in just as I was leaving, but otherwise the place was empty.

I had chicken-fried steak with cornbread, and it was very tasty. I asked for a couple Southern-style sides, but they were out of them, so I settled for corn and beans.

The Sanders Farmstead was just across the street. A friendly horse trotted over to see me as I walked by, but his friendliness disappeared when he found out I had nothing to offer. That’s him twice in this pan. The house on the left was built in 1845. Simon T. Sanders was the county clerk for several years.

The first stop on my tour was the B.W. Edwards Weapons Museum. It’s the white building in the foreground. It was formerly a bank, built around 1925. The brick building behind it is the oldest continually operating post office in Arkansas, although I’m pretty sure this isn’t the original building.

The woman who was to be my guide met me at the door. One of the first Bowie knives was made in Washington, and I thought the museum might feature some actual local history, but I was wrong. It’s just a collection of random rifles, shotguns, muskets and revolvers that some guy collected. There was a display of “Bowie knives” but my guide said they were modern interpretations. She told me to look around and when I got done she would point out some particularly interesting weapons.  It took me perhaps 10 minutes to see everything.

The larger display at the far end features weapons used in a bank robbery in Washington many years ago. When I got done looking around, I told the guide to “amaze me.” She took me to this display and told me pretty much everything I’d already read on the cards in the case. She pointed out a few other pieces — a combined rifle and shotgun, a camel gun made in Afghanistan — but there really wasn’t anything very exciting. When I took the photo inside the museum, she said she had the exact same model of camera as mine, but that her screen had quit working. Five days later, my screen quit working.

The woman escorted me down the street a couple blocks to  the 1836 Courthouse, the second building on my tour. This one did have historic significance — it served as the Confederate State Capitol from 1863-1865 after the Union captured Little Rock. As she left, my guide told me to be sure to ask about the “moon tree.”

A short, bearded man (that’s him in the photo above) met me at the door and ushered me inside.

After the new courthouse was built in 1874, this building served as a school and several other things. None of the furniture is original, and they aren’t even sure how it was set up inside, but it feels authentic. My guide told me about several famous trials and events that took place here and pointed out the interesting features of the building. On the way out, I asked him about the moon tree. He pointed to a Loblolly Pine behind the building. In 1971, astronaut Stuart Roosa carried a packet of tree seeds to the surface of the moon. When he got back, the seeds were germinated and distributed around the United States. (Two of them were planted in Illinois, but, not surprisingly for my state, they both died.) Here’s the tree to the right of the courthouse.

Here’s another photo of the tree with the moon in the background. At the time, I thought that was very clever of me, but when I downloaded the photo I saw it wasn’t all that impressive.

I wandered around town for another half hour or so, looking at the largest Magnolia Tree in Arkansas and most of the other buildings. I took photos of most of them, but since they all look pretty much alike, I won’t bother posting them.

Here’s the map of the town to give you a general idea of the place. I wouldn’t advise making a special trip to see it, but if you’re ever in extreme southwestern Arkansas with a couple hours to kill, there are worse ways to spend your time. But remember, don’t go there if you’re more comfortable in crowds.

I drove across town to the house where Bill moved when his mother married Roger Clinton. He lived here for two or three years. According to the the display visible through the front windows, he spent most of his time here playing with trains and imitating Hopalong Cassidy.

There was no place to park and the streets were narrow, so I pulled into the driveway. Here’s the back of the house.

The brick monument by the front gate, visible in this panorama is made from bricks from the Julia Chester Hospital, where Bill was born. There’s also a photo on the fence of Bill being interviewed on the front porch by Dan Rather.

Here’s the view through the front window.

When I finished taking photos and walked to my car, a raccoon ran across the patio and ducked into a hole under the house. I drove the few blocks to the building where Bill went to first grade. It’s no longer a school — I’m not sure what it is — but there’s a sign out front that says “Elementary School of Bill Clinton.”

Yes, I know it’s Clinton. But I enjoy visiting Presidents’ homes and I was in Arkansas with a day to kill. I drove down in the morning and arrived at 11:30. I was greeted by a friendly woman who gave me a whirlwind tour of the small museum in the visitor center. She turned out to be a cousin of Mike Huckabee. She took this photo of me in the museum, standing on a replica of Bill’s Oval Office rug.

Clinton was born on August 19, 1946 at Julia Chester Hospital in Hope. His dad died in an auto accident two months before he was born. His mother, Virginia, moved into this house with her parents Eldridge and Edith Cassidy. Bill lived here for four years until his mother remarried, then visited often until his family moved to Hot Springs in 1953.

I wasn’t allowed to take photos in the house, but there wasn’t much to see. It was decorated with furniture from the period, but the only things that belonged to Bill’s family were a couch and a child’s book. There are a few photos of the family in the house, and an effort has been made to set things up to look as much as possible as it did when Clinton lived there.

Bill’s bedroom is on the upper left in this photo of the side of the house.

The brick house to the right of Clinton’s house was the boyhood home of Vince Foster. Yes, that Vince Foster. The one who served as Bill’s Deputy White House Counsel during his first term and then committed suicide under suspicious circumstances.

The house on the left in this pan is the visitor center. The Clinton Birthplace Foundation tried to buy Foster’s house for the museum, but the guy who owns it raised the price way beyond it’s value, so they bought this one instead.

Clinton visited the house after it was restored and declared his approval of the restoration. But he wanted to make sure the guides stressed that the house was in much worse shape when he lived here.