When you write a weekly column about Arkansas history, people, places, and culture, sometimes the hardest part is simply deciding what to write about. Thankfully, I have some wonderful readers who step in with suggestions, often pointing me toward hidden corners and tall tales of our state’s past. This past week, a gentleman reached out to ask if I had ever heard of the ghost town of Lurton, Arkansas. I hadn’t—but as soon as I read his email, I knew I wanted to learn more.
So, as Highway 7 winds its way through the rolling landscape, the remnants of Lurton (Newton County) emerge like a forgotten chapter from a beloved country story. Here, an old hotel with sagging porches stands alongside a few timeworn houses, each carrying remnants of the past. This stretch of land once bristled with life in the 20th century, home to a bustling store, a school, a factory, and a picnic area, all thriving together with the timber industry and the legacy of a single family.
Local records and family anecdotes indicate that the first post office in the area was originally known as Spence until the early 1900s. In 1917, Cornelia Sutton, wife of influential figure I. C. Sutton Sr., assumed control of the post office contract and submitted a list of possible new names. The Postal Service ultimately settled on “Lurton,” a name tied to Cornelia’s sister’s husband.
If there was ever a heartbeat in Lurton during the 20th century, it belonged to I. C. Sutton Handle and Furniture Works. In 1929, I. C. Sutton acquired a simple handle mill. With determination, he set up the essential equipment and began crafting chair parts, barrel staves, and tool handles—items that always retained their value, even in difficult times. Throughout the Great Depression, the factory pivoted to manufacture barrels and handles, and during World War II, it emerged as one of the county's few war-related producers, supplying wooden handles and crafted pieces vital for various industries.
For the residents of Lurton, the factory was not just a workplace; it was the lifeblood of the community. It played a crucial role in keeping the local hotel, café, garage, general store, and even the baseball diamond at Freeman Field thriving — the essence of small-town living. During those years, the community was knit together by shared experiences, a versatile schoolhouse, and civic gatherings, all made possible by the steady pulse of employment from the timber and factory sectors.
A turning point frequently highlighted by historians occurred in 1952 when the Sutton plant moved to Harrison (Boone County). This shift prompted many workers to follow the company, while others departed Lurton in search of new job prospects. The loss of the town’s largest employer severely impacted local businesses, depriving them of the constant foot traffic they depended on. As better roads were built and people flocked to larger towns, Lurton saw a decline in visitors to its hotel, café, and garage. Over the next two decades, the school merged with a larger district, and postal services diminished, ultimately ceasing altogether. Each closure tightened the town’s hold on what many began to term a state of “silence.” This was more than an economic downturn; as factories shuttered and mail services evaporated, so too did the everyday routines that defined community life.
Today, abandoned shops and a dilapidated hotel serve as stark reminders of these transformations. Lurton's story reflects that of many towns in Newton County and across the Ozarks. Rural employment once thrived on small sawmills, family businesses, and fleeting industries. The 1930s heralded FDR’s New Deal initiatives and the efforts of the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), yet by the mid-20th century, improved roads and the consolidation trends in education and commerce favored larger municipalities, leaving smaller places like Lurton at risk of decline.
However, Lurton is not merely a tale of another Natural State ghost town. The vestiges of its past—stones and porches—remain. A monument at the old Sutton homestead honors I.C. and Cornelia Sutton for their contributions to the community, while the hotel, though weathered, continues to evoke memories in photographs and the hearts of those who remember it.
Today, what remains of Lurton stands as a testament to the resilience of the families who settled there and the broader story of rural communities that once dotted the Arkansas landscape.
Do you have a comment, question, or story idea? I’d love to hear from you. Email me at AllAroundArkansas@Yahoo.com.
Comments
Post a Comment