Arkansas Times
It’s time for a fight: Ozarkers bite back at town hall over Buffalo River proposal
by Jared Phillips
Last night in Jasper, Ozarkers finally got to have their say, though the folks who needed to hear what was said couldn’t be bothered to come.
Nearly 1,200 angry people packed the high school cafeteria in Jasper on Thursday to protest proposed changes to the Buffalo National River and the broader region. The anger was palpable — and it should be. Once again, hill folks are being ignored in discussions about their fate. And this time they’re ready for the fight.
Locals first heard about plans to change the Buffalo’s designation from a national river to a “national park preserve” when Runway Group, a Northwest Arkansas investment company backed by third-generation Walmart heirs Tom Walton and Steuart Walton, began surveying residents in the Buffalo River area about the proposal. First Gentleman Bryan Sanders, the governor’s husband, has been involved in the hush-hush planning process, according to state legislators.
During Thursday’s meeting, the crowd listened as speakers cleared up confusion surrounding the survey and what the designation change would mean. As former Newton County resident Wendy Finn outlined just how skewed the Runway Group survey was, the room erupted in outrage and laughter. Misty Langdon, the meeting’s organizer, explained what the increase in tourism would mean for daily life in the impacted counties. The real moments of impact were when local Billy Bell and state Sen. Bryan King outlined how hard it was to get a straight answer from the Waltons and Bryan Sanders. When they and others (including myself) pointed out that nobody impacted was at the table but should be, the cafeteria erupted in angry shouts and clapping.
This anger makes sense. For the last several generations, residents haven’t had a seat at the table when big changes have come to the Ozarks. Agriculture regulations, zoning laws, redistricting, economic development, and the creation of state and national reserves and parks all occur without any meaningful input from local communities most directly impacted. The proposed redesignation of the Buffalo is more of the same. And it’s part of a broader pattern by Runway Group, the Walton family and some politicians in Little Rock to remove Ozarkers from the Ozarks.
What does that look like? Well, it starts slow. A museum was built in 2011, proclaiming the arrival of culture and arts into the region. Then came an effort to build not just a commuter bike trail, but to take over gravel roads and rocky hillsides with bikes that cost more than most people’s mortgages. From there, a rebranding effort appeared. No longer are we the Ozarks, we are “Oz,” full of exciting, crafted adventures by groups like 37 North, who are as out of place in the hills as the Walton boys are throwing hay bales. All of this has been supported by a gradual taking control of the land itself as thousands of acres throughout the region have been bought up by the Walton family and an ever-shifting landscape of LLCs and environmental nonprofits.
These kinds of activities have real consequences. As a historian, I spend a lot of time looking at the changes in North and Central Arkansas over the last 100 or so years. Of particular interest to me are the small towns and small farms that once populated our landscape. As a rule, that story is not a happy one. Farms fold and are lost. Families leave, schools close and towns shrink and fade. A vacuum is left, and where once the rhythm of Ozark life thrived, only outsiders interested in the next adventure are found.
Right now, nobody is being burned out or forced by the sheriff to leave, like when Beaver Lake or Bull Shoals Lake were built (or when the Buffalo River was nationalized). But if a family can’t afford their property taxes because absentee landowners and tourism drives property values sky high, what choice do they have? Sell to somebody and come out ahead, or watch the family farm sell on the courthouse steps.
For those who want to stay — like the folks in Jasper Thursday night —neither is a choice they want. It’s still removal, even if it pretends to offer a choice.
We’ve been overrun with progress, and it’s reweaving the very fabric of hill life. The changes of the last decade or so, though, cut deeper than the shifts of the past. Its masters assume we won’t question anything — that we’ll accept the bulldozers and the end of rural life and the loss of ourselves. Be quiet, take the money, things are good. After all, we’ve got festivals, bike trails, fancy places to eat. Culture has arrived in the hills. Don’t bite the hand, they say.
Last night it was clear, though, that this has gone far enough. People from across the Ozarks voiced their anger and support for pushing back against an idle class’s efforts to turn our homes into a playground for the rich.
Last night, the Ozarks decided to bite back.