barbershop. It wasn’t that national events were unknown in the backwoods community, it’s just that those things belonged to the outside world, and the outside world had little impact upon Eminence or its citizens.
That left the weather - the topic most frequently cussed or discussed in the small farming community. However, the men at the barbershop had no use for a weatherman. They relied upon the various aches and pains in their knees, elbows and other joints as indicators of when the weather would change. They adamantly prognosticated specific weather events, complete with time tables and degree of impact.
Unfortunately, it was not uncommon for mild arguments to arise because one man’s elbow predicted one weather pattern while another man’s knee predicted something different. The disputes were good-natured and seldom lasted long, because the weather would soon change in a manner that neither man’s joint had predicted.
Except for the limited seasonal impact of the summer tourist trade, the economy around Eminence was remarkably stable. It hadn’t changed much since the beginning of the 1930s Great Depression, except that perhaps conditions had worsened.
During the previous twenty years, the town’s population had decreased from 614 to only 523, a troubling fifteen percent drop. Unless this trend could be corrected within the next few years, it could spell disaster for the town. The City Council and the Chamber of Commerce had worked together to solve the problem, but so far none of their efforts had proven successful. What was needed was new industry to provide jobs. Unfortunately, the town was too far away from major transportation and communication centers. Its isolation, the very thing that most residents found appealing, was sealing its doom.
Outsiders that visited Eminence for the first time often had the distinct impression that they must have just passed through the Twilight Zone , and had gone backwards in time some seventy-five years, landing in the middle of the Great Depression. That sentiment was echoed by the lead story in the summer 2005 edition of The Rootwad , the official publication of the Ozark National Scenic Riverways, a division of the National Park Service. The article, authored by the park superintendent, was entitled “In the Ozarks, the Depression Never Really Ended.” Admittedly, his article had little to do with actual economic conditions in the area. It was specifically written to entice tourists to visit a new exhibit called “Depression Homestead,” which the Park Service had just completed at Big Spring outside Van Buren, Missouri.
The exhibit consisted of a full-sized cabin, shed and other accouterments of a traditional Ozark dirt farm and was reconstructed to present a glimpse into what life was like at the dawn of 1933, reminiscent of the Ma and Pa Kettle lifestyle. Nevertheless, many of the old timers around Eminence maintained that there was much hidden truth in the article’s title.
Despite the lack of economic development, to the local multi-generational hillbilly families that made the Ozarks their home since long before any of them could remember, Eminence was the perfect town in which to live and raise a family – and the town’s barbershop was the perfect place for the men to gather to swap stories and to establish their bragging rights, mostly about their children and the “big one that got away.”
Other than the weather, the next most frequently discussed topic was any event that impacted either the men’s lives or their community. When there was nothing of importance to discuss in this vein then something usually got trumped up. Truth be known, the men were bigger gossips than the women.
Zeek still used a straight razor to shave his clients and to trim up around their ears and neck following a haircut. There were advantages to living in a small backwoods town – certain social diseases had not yet found their way into the populace, so there was no
That left the weather - the topic most frequently cussed or discussed in the small farming community. However, the men at the barbershop had no use for a weatherman. They relied upon the various aches and pains in their knees, elbows and other joints as indicators of when the weather would change. They adamantly prognosticated specific weather events, complete with time tables and degree of impact.
Unfortunately, it was not uncommon for mild arguments to arise because one man’s elbow predicted one weather pattern while another man’s knee predicted something different. The disputes were good-natured and seldom lasted long, because the weather would soon change in a manner that neither man’s joint had predicted.
Except for the limited seasonal impact of the summer tourist trade, the economy around Eminence was remarkably stable. It hadn’t changed much since the beginning of the 1930s Great Depression, except that perhaps conditions had worsened.
During the previous twenty years, the town’s population had decreased from 614 to only 523, a troubling fifteen percent drop. Unless this trend could be corrected within the next few years, it could spell disaster for the town. The City Council and the Chamber of Commerce had worked together to solve the problem, but so far none of their efforts had proven successful. What was needed was new industry to provide jobs. Unfortunately, the town was too far away from major transportation and communication centers. Its isolation, the very thing that most residents found appealing, was sealing its doom.
Outsiders that visited Eminence for the first time often had the distinct impression that they must have just passed through the Twilight Zone , and had gone backwards in time some seventy-five years, landing in the middle of the Great Depression. That sentiment was echoed by the lead story in the summer 2005 edition of The Rootwad , the official publication of the Ozark National Scenic Riverways, a division of the National Park Service. The article, authored by the park superintendent, was entitled “In the Ozarks, the Depression Never Really Ended.” Admittedly, his article had little to do with actual economic conditions in the area. It was specifically written to entice tourists to visit a new exhibit called “Depression Homestead,” which the Park Service had just completed at Big Spring outside Van Buren, Missouri.
The exhibit consisted of a full-sized cabin, shed and other accouterments of a traditional Ozark dirt farm and was reconstructed to present a glimpse into what life was like at the dawn of 1933, reminiscent of the Ma and Pa Kettle lifestyle. Nevertheless, many of the old timers around Eminence maintained that there was much hidden truth in the article’s title.
Despite the lack of economic development, to the local multi-generational hillbilly families that made the Ozarks their home since long before any of them could remember, Eminence was the perfect town in which to live and raise a family – and the town’s barbershop was the perfect place for the men to gather to swap stories and to establish their bragging rights, mostly about their children and the “big one that got away.”
Other than the weather, the next most frequently discussed topic was any event that impacted either the men’s lives or their community. When there was nothing of importance to discuss in this vein then something usually got trumped up. Truth be known, the men were bigger gossips than the women.
Zeek still used a straight razor to shave his clients and to trim up around their ears and neck following a haircut. There were advantages to living in a small backwoods town – certain social diseases had not yet found their way into the populace, so there was no
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