After melting in St. Louis (heat index of 115 degrees), a quickie storm blew in and Arkansas cooled off just in time for our arrival. We’re still the sticky kind of miserable, but now we move our limbs and respond when spoken to. More importantly, now we understand that occasionally, with a cup of sweet tea in hand, 101 degrees can feel cool.
On a trolley ride, we got into a conversation about where we live and the possibility of earthquakes. I said that likely it’d be a volcano that takes us out. They shook their head as if to say, “Wow, I can’t believe you choose to live there.” I immediately retorted, “But look at your natural disasters: You have storms, tornadoes, floods – and they happen over and over!” The man shook his head unaffected, “Nah, we got fraidy holes to climb into for that stuff!” I just about lost it.
Seriously, Ft. Smith just had an awful storm. Evidence to the damage is impossible to ignore. Most homes and buildings lost all windows on the West side – beautiful buildings – boarded up like they’ve been deserted. My cousin told me they had golf ball size hail. I’d heard that term before but never could imagine it. Then I saw a car with dents on the hood and huge cracked “stars” all over the front window. If she sends me the picture of her holding 3 pieces of hail (filling up her entire hand), I’ll post it here. My jaw hit the floor when I saw it. (Hey cousin, thanks for the image!)
Keep in mind that Ft. Smith had already lost buildings in the historic district, those with more than 3 stories, to a tornado about 10 years ago. Cleverly, the city kept several of the historic building fronts, adding a unique charm to the place. My cousin also told me that a famous bordello got blown 3 blocks away, and they decided to just leave it in its new location. Isn't that funny?
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