The Big Rock

For poor folks, simple things are very meaningful and memorable. Long time memories of far away places are as sweet fragrances to smell for years! In my mind’s eye, I can see plainly the things I want to recall. Pleasant thoughts permeate my mind as I recollect my memories and put them together as a scrapbook of things worth keeping.

The Big Rock on the Mulberry River in Arkansas was one of those memorable places. I can still recall the screams, the laughter and the joys of little brown bodies jumping from a large flat rock into the green water of the Mulberry River. All of us splashing around and having the time of our lives! Hearing shouts of “Watch this!” or “Look at me!” as we showed off to Mom and Dad smiling from the Big Rock.

We didn’t mind the snakes much, but they were there. The Cotton Mouth’s and the Water Moccasin’s were plentiful, alright, but we didn’t seem to mind much…..unless we SAW one swimming amongst us!!! Then it was different!!

I remember sitting in the screened-in area in the Big Rock Cabin to escape bugs and weather while we ate our picnic lunch of Spam sandwiches and potato chips! Ahhhhh, those were the days, my friend!

Going to the Big Rock after a hard days’ work of making gravel, or mowing our several acres of yard, or working in the garden trying to get it ready for growing our winter supply of food, was a treat! There was always a lot of hard work to do around the farm. I suppose Dad had the same problem getting us motivated to work as any other Dad today. The threat of discipline was our motivation, however. That seems to be the main difference with today’s kids as there isn’t much of that! But, there was, also, “treats and rewards” for a job well done. Looking back I believe my Dad enjoyed going to the Big Rock as much as we did! He always let Mom get everything together; clothes, shoes, everything, and food. If we were going to spend the night somewhere, she packed for that, too. I’m certain it was a lot of work for Mom, but we kids appreciated it so much!

The inner tubes we played in were a lot of fun. Going underwater to see who could hold his breath the longest was always challenged. One of us couldn’t wait to pick up a couple of river rocks while everyone was under water, so he could smash them together and make a loud clicking noise that hurt our ears! But we laughed about it and kept doing it, too!

We fished and swam and picnicked as often as we could. We were much too young to go there on our own; not to mention that it might be too dangerous. The Big Rock was a simple place at the end of a rough dirt road, a very large flat, Sandstone rock that could easily hold two dozen people or more. It became our playground! Good times. Good memories. Looking back, those days were more simple times than today; when one could find treasure in trash and invent games that had not yet been invented.

Mike Thomas,
Reminiscer