Don’t Let Politics Steal America’s 250th Birthday

                As July 4 approaches, it’s hard to ignore just how divided and heated our national conversation has become. With the 250th anniversary of the founding of the United States on the horizon, many people are tempted to let today’s political climate shape how they feel about celebrating the country itself. But if we allow temporary frustrations with politicians, political parties, or presidential administrations to overshadow this historic milestone, we risk losing sight of something much bigger.

                The American story has never belonged to one president, one political party, or one moment in time. Independence Day is not a celebration of politicians or political parties. No, it’s a celebration of an idea, one that has endured for nearly two and a half centuries through war, division, hardship, progress, and change.

                When we celebrate our nation’s founding, we are honoring the principles that have guided this country for generations. The ideals expressed in our founding documents have served as a compass through some of America’s darkest and most defining moments. Those principles have been tested time and again, yet they remain at the heart of who we are.

                At the same time, this anniversary reminds us that America has always been a work in progress. The phrase “a more perfect Union” was never intended to describe a finished product. Each generation inherits both the blessings and the responsibilities of citizenship. Acknowledging our history, including both our triumphs and our shortcomings, is part of understanding the role we play in shaping the future.

                No matter where we stand politically, we all share the same inheritance. The freedoms we enjoy, including the freedom to disagree openly and passionately, exist because generations of Americans sacrificed to preserve the democratic system that protects them.

                It is natural to care deeply about the direction of the country. Passion and debate have always been part of the American tradition. But refusing to celebrate the nation’s 250th anniversary because of political disagreements gives too much power to the divisions of the present. The flag, our history, and the sacrifices made over the past 250 years belong to all Americans, not to any one political movement or faction.

                This anniversary offers an opportunity to gain perspective. Political seasons come and go. Leaders rise and fall. Yet the foundation of the country, imperfect though it may be, has endured. Preserving and strengthening that foundation is the responsibility of every generation.

                As America approaches this historic milestone, perhaps the best way to celebrate it is not as Republicans or Democrats, conservatives or liberals, but simply as Americans. For all its complexities, struggles, and contradictions, this nation’s story is still our story.

The Magic of Magic Springs

                Magic Springs was one of my favorite places to visit as a child growing up in the Natural State. Few things could match the excitement of piling into the car with family or friends on a hot summer morning and heading from Sherwood (Pulaski County) down to Hot Springs (Garland County) for a day filled with roller coasters, water slides, arcade games, and the unmistakable smell of sunscreen and funnel cakes drifting through the air.

                For many Arkansans of my generation, Magic Springs was more than just an amusement park. It was part of summer itself.

                Magic Springs officially opened on July 22, 1978, during a time when Hot Springs was searching for new ways to attract tourists and families. Local businessman Bob Sykes and a group of investors believed Arkansas could support a major amusement park that could compete with attractions in neighboring states. Built in the wooded hills just outside the city, the park quickly became one of Arkansas’s most popular destinations.

                In its early years, Magic Springs offered rides, live entertainment, and attractions for visitors of all ages. Before long, the Arkansas Twister became the park’s signature attraction. The towering wooden roller coaster rose high above the trees and could be seen from nearly everywhere inside the park. For countless Arkansas kids, finally finding the courage to ride it felt like a rite of passage. As for me, someone who has always been terrified of heights, I never quite managed to work up the nerve.

                Despite its popularity, Magic Springs struggled financially almost from the beginning. Like many regional amusement parks, it dealt with mounting debt, ownership changes, and attendance numbers that often failed to meet expectations. By 1995, things had become so difficult that the park shut down completely. For a while, many Arkansans believed Magic Springs was gone for good.

                Later that same year, the property was purchased during a foreclosure sale by a Belgian investment company and plans quickly began to bring the park back to life. A major turning point came when Hot Springs voters approved financial support measures designed to help reopen the attraction and boost tourism in the Spa City.

                After extensive renovations and improvements, the park reopened in May 2000 as Magic Springs and Crystal Falls. The addition of the Crystal Falls water park made the attraction even more appealing during Arkansas’s brutally hot and humid summers.

                The early 2000s became something of a golden era for Magic Springs. New rides were added, attendance improved, and the Timberwood Amphitheater began bringing nationally known performers to Hot Springs, including country stars like Tracy Lawrence, Collin Raye, and Clay Walker. For many families, a trip to Magic Springs became an all-day experience filled with thrill rides, water attractions, concerts, and memories that lasted long after summer ended.

                 Like many amusement parks across America, Magic Springs has continued to face challenges over the years. Ownership and management have changed several times, maintenance costs have risen, and some longtime attractions have disappeared while newer ones have taken their place.

                One of the saddest moments for longtime visitors came when the Arkansas Twister ceased operation ahead of the 2025 season. For generations of Arkansans, the legendary wooden coaster had become one of the defining symbols of the park. News of its closure sparked an outpouring of nostalgia online as former visitors shared memories of the slow climb up the lift hill and the wild ride that followed.

                Even today, Magic Springs remains woven into the memories of countless Arkansas families. For many of us, it was the place where summer truly felt like summer. It was where friendships were built while standing in long water slide lines, where exhausted kids fell asleep in the backseat on the drive home, and where teenagers tried their best not to scream on roller coasters in front of their friends.

                Over the years, I’ve realized that not every Arkansas landmark is a historic battlefield or famous building. Sometimes the places that stay with us the longest are the ones connected to laughter, excitement, and childhood memories. And for generations of Arkansans, Magic Springs will always be one of those magical places.

The KAAY Story Struck a Chord Across Arkansas

                Wow! In the five years I’ve been writing All Around Arkansas and sharing Arkansas-related stories on my social media pages, I’ve never received the amount of attention that my recent story and related posts about KAAY 1090 AM have generated.

                The response has truly been incredible. My posts have been liked and shared hundreds, if not thousands, of times. It’s about as close to “viral” as any subject I’ve ever covered, and I sincerely want to thank each and every person who helped make that happen.

                What has been so fascinating is realizing just how far the reach of KAAY extended. It wasn’t simply a radio station located in Little Rock (Pulaski County), no, it was a part of people’s lives. KAAY became a soundtrack for countless childhoods, teenage years, road trips, late nights, and special memories. The station connected with listeners in a way that few forms of media ever have.

                Over the past several days, I’ve received countless Facebook messages, emails, and comments from people sharing their own memories of “The Mighty 1090.” I’ve heard from people across Arkansas, throughout the United States, and even from listeners around the world who remembered tuning in.

                Some of the stories have been especially meaningful. I’ve heard from veterans who fondly remembered listening to KAAY while serving overseas. For them, the music and voices coming through the radio weren’t just entertainment, they were a reminder of home during a difficult and uncertain time.

                I’ve also heard from listeners in places like Cuba who remembered hearing American music coming across the airwaves. That’s a powerful reminder of the unique influence radio once had. Before the internet, streaming services, and social media connected the world instantly, a powerful AM signal could cross incredible distances and bring people together.

                Perhaps the most meaningful part of this entire experience has been hearing from so many people who thanked me for helping keep the story and legacy of KAAY alive through my syndicated newspaper column and social media posts.

                That is exactly why I started All Around Arkansas in the first place.

                Every week, my goal is to tell the stories of the people, places, and moments that helped shape our state. Sometimes those stories are about forgotten communities, historic landmarks, famous Arkansans, or pieces of history that deserve another moment in the spotlight. At other times, they are about things like a radio station that may no longer exist in the same form, but whose impact continues to live on through the memories of the people who experienced it.

                KAAY is a perfect example of that. The station may have changed over the years, but the memories remain. The songs, the voices, the personalities, and the feeling of hearing that familiar signal are still alive in the hearts of thousands of former listeners.

                To everyone who has taken the time to share a memory, send a message, leave a comment, or share one of my posts — thank you. I have enjoyed reading every story, and I’ve learned just as much from all of you as I hope you’ve learned from me.

                If I’ve helped bring back even a few great memories of “The Mighty 1090,” then I’ve accomplished exactly what I hope to do each week with All Around Arkansas.

                History isn’t just found in books or museums. Sometimes it’s found in an old photograph, a familiar song, or the sound of a radio station that once meant something special.

                Thank you for allowing me to help preserve those memories. I’m truly grateful.

Happy 190th Birthday, Arkansas!

            This past Monday, Arkansas celebrated a milestone that deserved far more attention than it received. June 15 marked the 190th anniversary of Arkansas entering the United States as the 25th state in 1836. Nearly two centuries later, it is remarkable to reflect on how far the state has come from its rough-and-tumble territorial beginnings to the Arkansas we know today.

            In 1836, Arkansas was still considered part of the American West. Much of the state was rugged wilderness filled with dense forests, swamps, rivers, hills, and mountains. Roads were primitive, travel was difficult, and many communities were isolated from one another. The Arkansas Territory had existed for only 17 years before achieving statehood.

            Before becoming a state, Arkansas was part of the Missouri Territory following the Louisiana Purchase from France in 1803. As settlers gradually moved into the region, the federal government established the Arkansas Territory in 1819. The territorial capital was initially located at Arkansas Post (Arkansas County) before later moving to Little Rock (Pulaski County), which was viewed as a more central location better suited for growth and commerce.

            Life in territorial Arkansas was far from easy. Most residents lived in small farming communities and relied heavily on rivers for transportation and trade. While the population remained relatively small compared to eastern states, it continued to grow steadily as settlers arrived seeking opportunity and land. Cotton agriculture soon became one of the territory’s major economic drivers, particularly throughout the fertile Delta region.

            When Arkansas petitioned for statehood, the nation was already wrestling with the growing issue of slavery and the balance of power in Congress. Arkansas entered the Union as a slave state only one year after Michigan was admitted as a free state, helping preserve the fragile political balance between free and slave states at the time.

            On June 15, 1836, President Andrew Jackson signed the bill admitting Arkansas into the Union. At the time, the state’s population was just over 50,000. Today, Arkansas is home to more than three million residents.

            What makes Arkansas history especially fascinating is how closely the state’s story mirrors the broader American story. Arkansas experienced westward expansion, the turmoil of the Civil War, Reconstruction, the rise of railroads, agricultural booms and busts, industrial growth, and the long struggle for civil rights. From the days of steamboats traveling the Arkansas River to modern aerospace manufacturing and international corporate headquarters, the state has continually reinvented itself while maintaining its distinct identity.

            The Arkansas of 2026 would be almost unimaginable to those who celebrated statehood in 1836. Back then, there were no paved highways, electricity, the internet, or smartphones. Traveling across the state could take days. Today, Arkansas is connected by interstate highways, thriving industries, universities, state-of-the-art medical centers, and a growing technology sector.

            Yet despite all the changes, many qualities of Arkansas remain remarkably familiar across generations. Arkansans still value faith, family, community, and resilience. Small towns across the state still gather for local festivals and Friday night football games. Farmers continue working the rich Delta soil, while the Ouachita and Ozark mountains draw visitors seeking beauty, recreation, and quiet escapes.

            It is easy to overlook milestones like a 190th birthday because history can sometimes feel distant from everyday life. But anniversaries like this remind us that Arkansas is far more than lines on a map in the southern United States. It is a place shaped by generations of ordinary people who built homes, businesses, schools, churches, and communities.

            From a frontier territory carved from the wilderness to the 25th star on the American flag, the Natural State has spent the last 190 years writing a story that is still unfolding. If the past is any indication, the next chapter may prove just as remarkable as the first.

The Mighty 1090: KAAY

 

For much of America, Little Rock (Pulaski County) was at one time just another dot on the map. But after sunset in the 1960s and 1970s, one Arkansas radio station changed that forever. Across the Great Plains, deep into the Midwest, and even into Cuba, listeners slowly turned their radio dials until they found a powerful signal on 1090 AM: KAAY.

Known as “The Mighty 1090,” KAAY became one of the most influential radio stations in the South and, in many ways, one of the most important stations in the U.S. Its 50,000-watt clear-channel signal traveled vast distances at night, allowing people hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of miles away to hear a station broadcasting from West 7^th Street in Arkansas’s capital city.

During the day, KAAY operated as one of the South’s dominant Top 40 powerhouses. But after dark, the station transformed into something entirely different.

Beginning in 1966, KAAY launched the groundbreaking underground music program Beaker Street, hosted by smooth-voiced deejay Clyde Clifford, whose real name was Dale Seidenschwarz. Ironically, Clyde Clifford was not a stage name he created himself, but the name of the comptroller of KAAY’s parent company, LIN Broadcasting. In fact, all of KAAY’s deejays adopted on-air names borrowed from members of LIN’s board of directors and executive team.

At a time when most AM stations relied on tightly controlled three-minute pop singles, Beaker Street broke every norm. Long album cuts, psychedelic rock, blues, folk, and experimental music flowed through Arkansas airwaves into bedrooms, businesses, and car radios across North America. For countless listeners, it became their first exposure to artists who would later become legends. Before long, Beaker Street itself took on an almost mythical reputation.

Part of that mystique came from Clifford’s delivery. His slow, deliberate voice stood in sharp contrast to the rapid-fire style common in radio at the time. Strange background sounds drifted beneath his words, creating an eerie late-night atmosphere listeners still remember to this day. The effect was partly practical; the show was often broadcast from KAAY’s transmitter site in Wrightsville (Pulaski County) rather than the downtown Little Rock studio, and the sounds helped mask transmitter noise. But the result felt almost hypnotic. To teenagers in remote towns throughout the Midwest and South, KAAY sounded less like a radio station and more like a message from another world.

What made the station even more remarkable was its extraordinary reach. Thanks to its powerful nighttime signal, KAAY could be heard far beyond Arkansas. Reports say KAAY could be heard as far north as Canada and as far south as Cuba. During the Cold War, young Cubans secretly tuned in to hear American rock music that was otherwise difficult to access under tight government restrictions.

Think about that for a moment: a radio station in Little Rock influencing underground music culture across an entire hemisphere. That kind of influence is difficult to imagine today in an era dominated by streaming services and social media. Modern audiences can instantly hear virtually any song ever recorded. But during radio’s golden age, stations like KAAY served as cultural gatekeepers. They introduced listeners to new sounds, new ideas, and entirely new ways of thinking, and KAAY was doing it from right here in the Natural State.

The station’s history stretches back further. KAAY originally began as KTHS (which stood for “Kum to Hot Springs”) in Hot Springs (Garland County) in the 1920s, before eventually becoming KAAY in 1962. Over time, the station evolved through different formats as FM radio gradually overtook AM as the dominant home for music broadcasting. By 1985, KAAY officially ended its run as a Top 40 giant and transitioned to religious programming.

Even so, the station’s legacy never disappeared. To this day, older music fans still speak reverently about Beaker Street and the thrill of hearing that distant nighttime signal rolling through the static. Archived recordings and surviving airchecks have become treasured pieces of broadcasting history, and radio historians now recognize KAAY as a pioneering force that helped shape the future of album-oriented rock radio. If you’d like to hear some of those rare recordings and vintage airchecks, they’re available on a website maintained by former employees of KAAY: mighty1090kaay.blogspot.com

In Arkansas, we often underestimate the significant contributions our state has made to American culture. Yet for one remarkable era, some of the most adventurous and influential radio in the nation came not from New York or Los Angeles, but from a transmitter outside Little Rock.

Camp Robinson's Underground Hospital

            Some pieces of Arkansas history remain hidden in plain sight. Growing up in North Little Rock (Pulaski County). I passed Camp Robinson countless times without ever realizing that beneath part of its former training grounds once existed one of the most remarkable military medical projects of World War II: an underground hospital carved deep into solid Arkansas rock.

            Today, most people know it simply as Camp Robinson, but during World War II the sprawling installation became one of the nation’s busiest military training centers. Tens of thousands of soldiers cycled through central Arkansas as America prepared for war overseas. The camp expanded rapidly after 1940, transforming into a massive operation with barracks, rail lines, warehouses, training ranges, and medical facilities spread across tens of thousands of acres. Yet among all those wartime buildings, none was more unusual than the so-called “Underground Hospital.”

            Officially connected to the Fifty-fifth General Hospital unit, the facility was established in 1943, under the direction of Lt. Colonel Charles Gill of the U.S. Army Medical Corps. Gill believed military medicine needed to prepare for a frightening reality of modern warfare: hospitals near combat zones could themselves become targets. His answer was both practical and extraordinary. Instead of building upward, the Army would build downward.

            Soldiers and medical personnel excavated chambers directly into sandstone and solid rock at Camp Robinson. According to wartime records, the underground complex included hospital wards, operating rooms, X-ray facilities, connecting tunnels, and protected passageways leading to the surface. The goal was to determine whether doctors could safely treat wounded troops while shielded from enemy bombing or artillery attacks. In many ways, the project was ahead of its time.

            Years before the public became familiar with MASH units during the Korean War, military planners at Camp Robinson were already experimenting with ways to bring medical care closer to dangerous front lines. The underground design attempted to recreate battlefield conditions while protecting both patients and staff.

            Photos from 1943 show rough tunnel entrances cut into hillsides and reinforced chambers hidden underground. From the surface, much of the operation appeared almost invisible. In an era when air raids devastated cities across Europe and the Pacific, concealment mattered.

            What makes the story especially fascinating is that this remarkable experiment happened not in New York, California, or Washington, D.C., but in central Arkansas.

            Officially named Camp Joseph T. Robinson (named in honor of a former Arkansas governor and U.S. senator) became a crossroads of wartime America. Infantry trainees marched across its dusty grounds. German prisoners of war were later housed there. Medical units trained there before deployment overseas. Celebrities and military leaders visited the installation during the war years, but the underground hospital added an almost cinematic layer to the camp’s history.

            For decades, knowledge of the facility remained relatively obscure. Documents connected to the project were not declassified until 1958. Even many Arkansans who grew up near the base never realized such a place existed beneath the hills.

            Time, of course, changes everything. Much of the wartime camp disappeared or evolved in the decades after World War II. Buildings were demolished, land was repurposed, and memories faded. Yet historians and archaeologists have continued studying the underground hospital site, recognizing it as a rare example of wartime military innovation, and perhaps that’s what makes the story endure.

            The Natural State’s history is often told through battlefields, politics, railroads, or natural disasters. But sometimes the most compelling stories are the ones hidden in places people pass every day without knowing what once happened there.

            Somewhere beneath Camp Robinson’s landscape, traces remain of a time when military doctors and soldiers dug deep into Arkansas stone trying to solve one of war’s oldest problems: how to save lives in the middle of chaos. So, while it sounds like something from a Steven Spielberg World War II movie set, it happened right here in my home state.