The
Halloween Happening
Highway 62 between Rogers and Eureka
Springs is one of my favorite drives in Arkansas. Eureka Springs is also
one of my favorite towns in Arkansas. Halloween is my favorite time to be in
Eureka Springs. Some Halloweens seem to stand out more than others do,
like the one I am about to share with you. In Northwest Arkansas, one of
the best places to go on Halloween is Eureka Springs. The reason Eureka
springs is a great place to go is because of the extreme diversity of the people
in the city. There are some of the most ‘redneck’ bars in the country and
not too far away are some of the hippest bars you will find. I was always
comfortable in both. I like country and western and esoteric folk
music. On the extreme; however, are the ‘alternative’ people. You probably
think I am making this up, but go to the right places in Eureka Springs and you
can meet a person that will swear he or she is a witch, vampire, werewolf,
changeling, zombie or some other weird person. It does not even have to be
Halloween to encounter these individuals. I just happen to know where the ‘alternates’
gathered during 1973.
Today, everything is
different. I have long since lost contact with my connections, but it was
wonderful at the time. However, I bet that if you walk down the main
street of Eureka Springs today, you will see a stairwell leading to a dark
place. There, you will find a group of people who consider themselves to
be the ‘alternates.’ At first glance, they may seem to be a little strange.
During Halloween 1973, I am living
in the house in Pea Ridge. I am the proud owner of a 1972 MGB. My
lady friend at the time is Terry. We dress to celebrate the offbeat
holiday. She dresses as a charming Elvira, and I dressed as a celibate
monk. We thought the idea was funny. The drive from Pea Ridge to
Eureka Springs is exciting; try it sometime. If it does not get you in the mood
to have a little fun, then you need to relax a little. As I drove around a
corner at about 50 mph, a brilliant thought came to mind. Terry was the type of
person who would do anything for a laugh. Our costumes were not funny any
longer; they were dead serious. We became the personification of our
alter egos. We took the Dam Road and stopped at the dam overlook for an
hour to admire the view.
When you drove into the downtown
part of Eureka Springs in 1973, there was a country and western bar just before
you arrived at the main part of town. This was our first stop to work up
our courage. We shot a little pool, but we were distracting too many
people from serious drinking. We did not feel very welcome.
However, this was not our destination or our destiny at this time. After
a couple of courage makers, we move toward our destination. There was a particular
bar located at the corner on the upper street. One had to descend a
flight of stairs to enter the bar. Few people knew of the place. We went
in and felt more at ease. Many people were in costume, although a few had
decided not to dress for the holiday. As we walked into the bar, we
seemed to have become the center of attention. Well, not me, but Elvira
certainly did. To elaborate, Terry makes a striking Elvira with long glossy
black hair. Her gown has a slit up to her waist, and the neckline plunges to
her navel. I think I just used nearly those same words to describe a dress at
the opera. I have nothing to do with the way my friends dress. Wearing a
hoodie that hangs nearly to the floor did not earn me many second looks. Terry
is the show. We sat at the bar and began a conversation with the
waitress. We both agreed that the waitress must be an ‘alternative. Once
I exit to the men’s room, Elvira tells the waitress that the monk has detected
several witches and other ‘alternatives’ in the place.
The girl smiles and replies, “Are
you a real believer?”
Terry, (now in full Elvira persona)
says in a very low voice, “Yes, I have to be because I am a witch, and I know
you are too.”
The girl is so impressed that she
begins to share her life story with Terry. I then interrupt the conversation by
returning to the bar. As I dried my hands with napkins, I asked in my deep
monk-like voice, “What have you girls been talking about?” Elvira tells me that
they were discussing herbs.
“Monika is an herbalist,” said
Elvira.
I said, “Well, you girls talk about
herbs, I see someone I know. Do not disappear on me.”
Elvira now tells the girl that the
monk is holding her captive.
The girl asks, "Well why do you
not just leave and go to the police?" Elvira tells her that it is
impossible because the bracelet she is wearing will not let her get more than
50 feet from the monk. The poor girl believes every word of this.
Elvira tells Monika that if she can remove the bracelet, she can escape.
Monika removes the bracelet and Elvira tells her that only a white witch could
have done that. Well, this makes Monika’s day. Prior to Elvira’s
revelation, Monika believed that she was merely a witch. With the help of
some of Monika’s friends, Elvira escapes out the back door.
While Elvira was making her escape, I
am talking to a group that included an old high school friend. His name
is Darian. Darian is a Vietnam Vet. In high school, he was a quiet
and rather passive kid. After Vietnam and a brush with the law, he is a
changed man. I would say he probably carried about 50 pounds of concealed
weapons at all times. Talking to him makes a person feel a little
freakish. He became addicted to some bad drugs in the Big Green, never
kicked them, and never had a desire to kick them. He got in trouble over
a girl and went to prison for five years. I have no idea what he is doing
today. After getting my weekly shot of paranoia conspiracy theory, I return
to the bar.
As planned, there was no sign of
Elvira. I asked Monika where she went. Monika said she took the
bracelet, off so I could not control her anymore, and she left.
"Do you have any idea what you
did? She is a black witch. She will do something terrible. I have no
way to find her without the bracelet,” I yelled. Then I ask, “Did you remove
the necklace?”
“No,” Monika replies.
“I hate to do this, but this is all
I can do to save an innocent," I told Monika. I pull out a small radio that I bought just
for this occasion. I push a button on the radio.
“What did that do?” Monika inquires.
“My witch’s head just popped off,” I
answered.
Monika screams but quickly recovers
and says, “This is a happening.”
I tell her that it is indeed, and we
all began to laugh. Someone invites us to a Halloween party and we end up
spending the whole weekend in Eureka Springs.
I know this whole thing sounds silly…
it is, and it was. However, you must understand the culture of Eureka Springs
at that time. The happening was the latest thing in the art
community. A happening got others involved with your art without them
knowing that they were part of the art. My art was fun without hurting
anyone.
Terry finished college, moved to New
York, and worked for Delta Airlines. Monika, who owned the bar, moved to
San Francisco. As I previously stated, my paranoid friend just
disappeared. Considering the price of land on Beaver Lake today, I would
bet either he still lives in his tent created from a parachute, or he sold the
land and is now an investment banker. Me, I go to class on Monday after
Halloween weekend and tell high school kids it is time to grow up and be
mature. Yes, a little hypocritical, but damn, it is good to be young and
having fun. There is no feeling quite like knowing the confidence of youth
while enjoying life. I know many people consider Eureka Springs to be the
religious Mecca of Arkansas. That is a whole other story.
Of course, there are morals to this
story:
1.
Hypocrisy, like beauty, is only in
the eye of the beholder.
2.
If you believe you are something,
you are something.
3.
What you are is what you believe you
are.
4.
No one can believe you are something
unless you are something.
5.
If you are unsure what a word means,
look it up prior to using it.
©2012
Michael L. Wright and Relinda Ruth
How warped we must be...
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