My ancestors, full of hope but with little else, came to the hills of Arkansas almost 200 years ago. They were among the first pioneer settlers to the county and still today, the stunning natural beauty of the Ozark Mountains makes it easy to see why they stopped their covered wagon and started a new life. Eight-ish generations later, here I am.

Like many others whose roots run deep into these woods and springs and bayous and hills, this hidden corner of Arkansas will forever be the center of the world to me — all other places in world referenced by their distance from this one. There is a centrifugal force to this place.

I think that is the magic of Arkansas. I know that is the power of Home.