2010 Lonesome Road Trip Ends

By Ken Brown

Springfield, MO.

The Ozark Uncle perceives that a few of his blog readers will read every word in his posts while others will read a paragraph or two, look at the accompanying pictures and then hit the back button. We live in an era with so many information sources, we all must make choices. Still, please read the picture descriptions and a summary at the beginning of this and future posts.

PICTURE DESCRIPTIONS

Seminole OK with its brick roads still in fine shape after many decades of use.

Dust bowl era house between the towns of Kingfisher and Woodward OK somehow hoisted on a pile of trees and brush for later burning.

Plains Indians and Pioneer Museum in Woodward Oklahoma.

Isaac Brown's Hilltop Homestead in northwest Oklahoma near Quinlan, OK.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

1. The little Ford Escape delivered the Ozark Uncle back to Springfield MO from his Arkansas-Oklahoma 2010 Lonesome Road Trip one week ago. Yes, this first blog post since arriving home has been fermenting all week. Watch out!
2. This post is brought to you by the color GREEN. Ozarkers love the green grass and the green forests. My perceptions of Oklahoma are currently positive probably because it was green this time of year.
3. Oklahoma, also called "Native America," is a great state--only decent thing the white man did for the native Americans was to give them Oklahoma (before taking much of it away, that is). I'm currently interested in the history of the state. Currently, I'm reading Edna Ferber's 1929 book entitled "Cimarron." It was based on characters involved with the Cherokee Strip Land Race in current northwest Oklahoma.
4. The Ozark Uncle Sez we all should perceive more and believe less. Casual readers, before leaving the blog, remember why this blog is about the Ozark Uncle's perceptions, not beliefs. A belief held by a person is something s/he just knows in heart and soul is true. Unfortunately, beliefs can cause a living hell for someone who feels the pressure to profess a belief while internally aren't so sure. I perceive that politicians in America are fundamentally good people, but most must play the belief game particularly on social issues. John McCain, right now, is going through a living hell in Arizona trying to come up with a list of beliefs that will get him re-elected.

PERCEPTIONS OF OKLAHOMA

Home is sweet but quite an agenda-changer. The core of this post was in my head and heart last Saturday afternoon when the The Ozark Uncle's 2010 Lonesome Road Trip ended. At Vinita OK, the Ford Escape saw the entrance to an Interstate for the first time in weeks and said "...let's get home, my tires are tired" in a pitiful car talk voice.

The Roads Now Taken

In general terms, the route of 2010 Lonesome Road Trip was as follows: down through the Arkansas Ozark Mountains to the Ouachita River valley (southwestern Arkansas), then back up to eastern Oklahoma around Sequoyah County across the Arkansas River from Fort Smith. Then west-bound Oklahoma Highway 9 took the Escape and me across central Oklahoma while staying south of Tulsa and only on the outskirts of the Oklahoma City before finding old El Reno west of OC for a glance at it's historic sights and a night's rest.

Eventually my westward migration ended in northwest Oklahoma's Woodward County, an area "alloted to the white man" as part of the 1893 Cherokee Strip land race. The three days spent in Woodward County were educational, informative, and motivating. Having filled my cup with historical research information, U.S. Highway 60 brought me eastward through northern Oklahoma through cities like Enid, Ponca City, Pawhuska and Bartlesville. While Hwy 60 could have brought me directly in to Springfield, MO, that plan was aborted at Vinita in favor of the Will Rogers Turnpike (I-44).

My General Disdain for Interstates

To choose the Turnpike on Saturday, May 29, was an act of expediency and nothing more. You see, an interstate highway provides almost no informational value to its users and is generally useless to sightseers like yours truly-- all one's time is spent watching the two lanes assigned to one's general direction of traffic.

Interstate driving strategies are few. One can be on the offensive by choosing the fast lane or play defense over in the slow lane. For a couple of years now, the Ozark Uncle has perceived that it's in his best interest and that of his riders if he chooses the slow lane. Furthermore, he has made a pact with the Ford Escape that its maximum speed be 65 MPH.

Well, the Will Rogers Turnpike has a 75 MPH speed limit, and my fellow Americans in the other vehicles treated my little Escape with some disdain. Once, a Mack truck came so close to the Escape's rear bumper that I could count on its grill. Really the only negative perception I had of Oklahoma was that its speed limits were a little too high for my comfort zone. Even two-lane state roads without shoulders were posted at 65 MPH. Within the cities, however, speed limits ranged from reasonable to a little on the slow side. Not knowing which villages were speed traps, I honored every speed limit sign, even going well below to gawk at some building or scene.

On the Interstate, the Escape and I struggled with the chaotic environment we’d put ourselves in and both agreed that the cool and shade tree laden rest stop between Joplin and Springfield was our only chance to regain our collective sanities. The local post of the Springfield Purple Hearts had set up a tent with drinks. After using the restrooms where I met an old Springfield acquaintance and chatted a few minutes (I never really liked the guy too much), I returned to the Veterans' tent and visited with the two Purple Heart recipients there. By definition, the members of this Veterans Post had to have been injured in action and awarded a Purple Heart--they were the real deal. No wonder some politicians have been trying to enlist themselves in their ranks without ever having served.

These Purple Heart guys are a set of veterans who deserve a special dose of respect beyond what is already deserved by all Veterans. Failure to serve in the military is probably one of the few regrets the Ozark Uncle saddles himself with.  One of the veterans had Douglas County Missouri ties, and we talked about Civil War Veterans and my current interest in bronze markers for my Union Army ancestors and Joy’s Confederate Army ancestors. It was a nice visit and the coffee was good; but alas, it became time to move on.

Other People's Problems

Well, the Ozark Uncle arrived home in Springfield about mid-afternoon on Saturday, May 29th. Not surprisingly, some of the problems in Springfield that can only be solved by someone other than myself still existed. Yet, the road trip had helped me to realize that I should help if possible and do it with a willing and cheerful heart. Interestingly, little fifteen-month old Skye Baby and a bad fever and was very sick. Joy and I took her in to help her recuperate away from her sister and step-sister.

Besides medicine, little Skye Baby perceived that sitting in Grandpa's lap while watching Wiggles tapes would be quite therapeutic. She applied this remedy for two solid days this past week. She's all better now, and maybe I helped a little.

Oklahoma, an Ironic Land

The Ozark Uncle arrived home in a euphoric state following his loop through Oklahoma. Truly, off the Interstate, Oklahoma is a beautiful area. Probably the Ozark Uncle's perception was greatly influenced by the greenness of the landscape. Also, it was influenced by the historically preserved condition of the business districts of mid-sized cities on the byways that were traveled.

Perceptions are flexible (while beliefs are rigid), and my perceptions of Oklahoma could be greatly modified if the trip were replicated say two months from now. But late May of this year presented the state at its optimal point--storms had pelted the state earlier in May. The torrents of rain left the stock ponds full, and the fields green even in western Oklahoma. Roadside wildflowers were in bloom and blue skies with soft fluffy clouds provided an ever pleasant horizon.

These excellent land conditions made it difficult for me to form an image of that same land during the dust bowl years of the 1930s--back then, this same land was stripped of vegetation and became a landscape of brown sand and dirt for the winds to "reallocate" across the distance at will. (Yet, we're living through another dust-bowl like crisis right now -- the gulf oil spill. This latter man-made calamity can't be solved by some rain falling from the heavens. In the 1970s, our family enjoyed the beaches of Dauphin Island off the Alabama coast. I fear that it might be 2070 before a family could enjoy that little land mass --maybe never).

The Ironic Fate of the Red Man

Sarah P, come sit down and let's have today's little history lesson. The first white man's land race into the area we now know as Oklahoma was in 1889 and various areas were opened up in succeeding races until the final one in 1896. Here's a quick timeline:

• 1834-1889 Native Americans were alloted areas of Oklahoma as their reservations. The area was known as the Indian Territory.
• 1889-1896 White settlers participate in land races.
• 1890-1907 The area became known as the Oklahoma Territory.
• 1907 The territory was admitted into the Union as a State

READERS BEWARE -- the following source was used for the above timeline: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oklahoma_Territory

and it has not been edited by the Texas School Book Board. My chosen source speaks of injustices excised on the native Americans' land rights just after the end of the Civil War. Some may BELIEVE this entry to be inconsistent with their whitewashed view of our American past.

Cynicism set aside, I could see remnants of native American culture everywhere across Oklahoma. In many ways, it seems like a source of state pride. Road signs inform the traveler when leaving or entering the reservation of the various tribes. The business districts of the towns included headquarters, clinics, or license bureaus for a particular tribe. Some cars sport licenses issued by a tribe not the state. But it seemed like those cars were generally were old clunkers that weren't hitting on all four cylinders (now that's the type of perception that could be absolutely wrong--it remains my perception but very open to alteration upon further observations).

The Ironic Source of Oklahoma's Wealth--Oil and Gas

Few of the dust bowl era houses were apparent along the roadsides. Many fields sported lush crops of alfalfa or wheat. Others contained healthy looking cattle or horses. Generally though, the land seemed not to be heavily populated with humans. Still, the towns were bustling, and the downtown areas were like a walk back in time--a time in the 1920s with some building capstones revealing dates as early as the 1890s. But by coincidence or design, these wonderful business structures had not been defaced by aluminum siding facades or other attempts to modernize. The town of Seminole (pop. 7,000) still had its original brick streets downtown and El Reno (pop. 2,000) (a major stop on old Route 66) still had streetcar tracks downtown. Pawhuska (pop. 3,600) had a downtown area with multi-story structures built for a population that was once very much larger.

Bartlesville, OK was a disappointment to me. The original home of Phillips 66 Petroleum, Bartlesville Ok had a downtown of modern white plastered buildings, and an original building was hard to find. Frank Lloyd Wright's 1920s art deco skyscraper was still there that I used to call the Johnson & Johnson building. Now it is called "Price Tower" and is some kind of community center.

The wealth that built these cities came from oil and gas exploration. While the Ozark Uncle doesn't wish bad times on the Sooner State, he so wants us to make a serious effort to find alternatives. That's not anti-capitalist, is it? But, the Ozark Uncle does have some awfully socialistic tendencies. An unbiased Christian would probably have to admit that Jesus teachings are filled with socialistic ideas.  From what I've learned recently about native Americans, their distinct tribes were socialistic. The receptionist at the Cherokee Nation Office in Sallisaw explained to me that one of the problems the State of Georgia had with the resident Cherokees was that the tribe held its lands in common not as individuals.

Ah, that brings up an interesting topic for a later post--the sanctity of individual land rights in America. Also, I want to study up on some ism words (e.g., Fascism, Socialism, Deism) being tossed about by people who probably, like me, don't really know what they mean.

Conclusion

With this post, I put into the past my 2010 Lonesome Road Trip that started on May 9 and ended on May 29. But the perceptions it provided the Ozark Uncle will no doubt crop up in other posts. I'm now moved to write about the Saga of Lacey Pahl's Quonset Hut. Readers have probably forgotten the context of that story; so it will be reintroduced at the outset.