Democrat-Gazette online

My parents have sold the place where I grew up. It is a little farm on top of a mountain. Different than the untamed extremes and vast sprawl of the FFF Ranch, this is about 35 acres accessed from a paved lane under a canopy of trees. You feel like you are tucked away by yourself, but it's only about five minutes from town. I had a glorious childhood there.

My mother did, too. The family mythology is that there were troubles in her family back home in Fort Worth. They had a nice new modern house on a small lot in a neighborhood. Her parents toiled in an airplane factory, while her mother attended college at night. Looking for a way out of the rat race, they saw an advertisement in the paper for a little farm in Arkansas. They drove to Ozark to see it, loved it, and sight unseen, the people who owned that little farm--who were looking for a way out of the boondocks--traded it for my grandparents' place in the city. My mother describes the new life they created there as their golden age.

My parents built their dream house through the pasture from my grandparents in 1978. I vividly remember the process as I was included in decisions,........

© Arkansas Online