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Friday, October 19, 2007

Ghosts of Booger Hollow.

Back in the days when Arkansas was known more for the concept of hillbillies than Wal-Mart, back when the population was under a million people and Dogpatch USA was our big northwest Arkansas attraction, there was Booger Hollow.

It was built in 1961, along the winding roadway of Scenic Highway 7. Highway 7 rolls up gracefully from Russellville to Dover, and then somewhere about Pleasant Grove decides to act up and try to buck cars off its back for the rest of its journey to Harrison. Well, not really, but it is a fine windy and hilly road -- and one of my favorite stretches of roadbed in Arkansas.

The Booger Hollow Trading Post isn't in a hollow. It's actually on a hilltop several miles away. And yes, the community really is named Booger Hollow.

Rural Arkansas magazine published a short piece on Booger Hollow in March 1970. It says the community got the name because it was right between two cemeteries, and it was a good idea to take a friend with you if traversing the area at night. The term booger in this case came from the words boo and bogus -- not the nasal affectations of the mucus-ly afflicted.

Whatever the reason or the cause, Booger Hollow quickly became representative of the Arkansas stereotype. And as a young 'un in the 1970s, I didn't care.

A trip up to Dogpatch USA could not be completed unless the mandatory stop at Booger Hollow had been made. Sure, there was the photo-op outside the Double Decker Outhouse. But inside the store were goodies of all sorts... hillbilly pickins to rival anywhere else on earth.

There was the Hillbilly Chicken Dinner -- a wooden box that you opened to find a piece of corn glued inside (for the chicken, silly!), the Hillbilly Lighter (another wooden box with matches inside), and lots of examples of the Hillbilly Corn Cob Pipe. There were jams and jellies and honey all canned in Arkansas, and postcards with all sorts of hillbilly things on them. The adults checked out the quilts and the figurines and the handwoven white birch baskets, but for us kids it was a time to pick up those neat triangle puzzles you play with at Cracker Barrell today and Sassafras Drop Candy.

And there were the hams, big robust country hams salted and smoked and served up on sandwiches at the Booger Hollow Chuckwagon. They smelled of salt and dripped with your choice of dressing, mayo or mustard or a little barbeque sauce some days.

In later years, the Chuckwagon came up with another delicacy, the Boogerburger, and folks who had stopped to eat at Russellville's Whatta-Burger might try to gorge and sample this one too, or take it on the road.

I remember the Booger Hollow Trading Post fondly... as a kid, I collected rocks (this probably explains a lot about me) and there were always some Arkansas crystals or tumbled stones I could add to my collection. And there would be the occasional Hillbilly Pet Rock or rock ring that seemed really cool to a kid at the time.

Years passed, and times changed. At the end of 1991, Bill Clinton decided he wanted to be the next President, and reporters came to Arkansas to find out more about the Man from Hope. And Booger Hollow Trading Post became a sort of testing post for the opinions of the "working class man." Several of the different national networks sent reporters to check out this place, population seven, "counten' one coon dog." And for a while, there was a boom.

In 1991, I was a student at Arkansas Tech University. I would meet my future husband there, and for fun on a lazy Saturday afternoon now and then we'd make the drive up to Harrison and back along Scenic 7. We'd stop in at Dogpatch USA, which by this time was breaking down, the trams closed, the lower amusement park now open to drive through so you could check out the vendors. And we'd stop on the way back at Booger Hollow to catch a cold drink and sometimes a sammich, and some of that good honey with the honeycomb inside.

Years went by. I graduated, moved and moved again, and quit making that trek up Highway 7. By the mid-90s, Branson had started to bloom and bustle, and Dogpatch USA was closed for good. AHTD had been working meticulously on knocking the curves out of US Highway 65, and the more direct route from Little Rock on up became more popular as longer stretches were made four lane and the speed limit was increased. And Scenic Highway 7 started to dry up.

This past August, my husband and I on a whim made the trek up Highway 7 again, just to see what had changed. We knew about the demise of Dogpatch USA. But the closure of the Booger Hollow Trading Post surprised us.

So I started doing research, and promised myself I would go back with a camera later and catch some photos before it disappeared for good.

It turns out, Booger Hollow wasn't a victim of time or change, but of property ownership. Now, there are several different stories I've been told, but I have been able to discern this much. In 2004, owner Charlotte Johnson was approached by a couple of different people aboout buying the property and keeping it open. One of those people was David Standridge. But she didn't sell it to him... she sold it to a couple out of Green Forest (at least, that's what it says at the Pope County Courthouse). David ended up buying land closer in to Dover for his own enterprise.

Now here's where it gets iffy. A couple of people have told me that the purchasers didn't make the payments, and Johnson got the property back. And I've even heard that the land under the Trading Post went back to someone else.

Regardless, the Booger Hollow Trading Post closed... there were a couple of attempts to reopen it but it's now been officially shut down for three years.

I didn't know about the land battle and stuff when I went to visit the property on a very foggy day in October, 2007. All I knew was I wanted to find out more about what happened.

The fog seemed to suck everything up that day -- the sound from the road, the view -- it even appeared to suck the very highway itself from existance about 50 feet ahead of drivers.

The signs still mark the way. From about 10 miles out in either direction, white signs with red borders and lettering herald what were the proud products of Booger Hollow -- hams, quilts, and more. The signs keep drawing you onward to a disappointment.

I scouted out along the road for the attraction, wondering what I would find. And then, it showed up so quickly I nearly missed the turn.

There stood the old red buildings with their white trim, wearing the fog like a memorial shroud or the very fog of distant memory. Perhaps I was just dreaming this? No, the humid day slicked my skin. I was really here.

A carpet of wildflowers has engulfed the step up to the front porch. All the signs are still on the front door, and the mats are still out. With the condensation on the window, you might mistake that "Closed" sign for a mark that someone is coming back.

But there's a window busted to the left of the door, a small window on the lower left hand side. And peering through it, I could see rows of empty shelves, the memory of what used to be inside betrayed by my eyes.

Well, nothing left inside.

I decided to walk back to the outhouse -- it was hard to see if it was still there because of the fog. I managed to catch a very pretty picture of the old "smokehouse" (really, this was way too small to ever have been a real smokehouse, right?) and bench protruding up through the fog and the wildflowers.

Indeed, peering through the fog, I could see the outhouse still standing. I crunched the gravel with my feet, walking back over to the popular facility.

Other than the fading paint, the outhouse is none the worse for wear. Heck, it's an outhouse -- how bad can it get? It still seemed as "functional" as it was in the good years.

From here I took a shot back at the rest of the Trading Post. It seemed so lonely and quiet. And abandoned. But if you made the day sunny and added some cars in the parking lot, I don't believe you could have told. This is, after all, a tourist destination -- and with people, there would have been a big difference.

I walked back around the front of the building, still trying to figure out what had happened. The doors to both of the "flushy" restrooms in the tiny building next to the store were standing wide open. There was an old ice cooler on the front porch of the Chuckwagon. But still, no signs as to what had happened here.

I decided to check around back, just to see if I could find something more. I was surprized there wasn't a "For Sale" sign, or mention anywhere of why it was closed. That bothered me.

I rounded the back corner of the Chuckwagon, and was surprised to see the remains of a burned out building. Was this a separate kitchen, a smokehouse, or a home? Hard to say.
Pieces of burned wreckage are scattered through the weeds, and what appear to be refrigerators or the like lay like overturned beetles in the grass. Just one wall of this structure is standing.

I turned to walk back, and noticed a door open at the back of the building. My first thought was "I can't go in there," but curiosity got the better of me. At least I would know.

The door lead into a lean-to portion of the building, and some items still remained inside -- a bed frame, Christmas garlands, a set of Chicago Bears glasses (this puzzled me a whole lot!). There's been some water damage to the roof, but otherwise it just looks abandoned and empty.

I was surprised anything was left -- with that door standing open for who knows how long, anyone could have just come in and taken stuff. Though, I have to admit, what was left was an odd lot. There were empty shelves, racks, and some discarded items here and there.

Signs were still up from some last sale. There were doll stands and a display of Arkansas native tumbled stones, still trapped behind Plexiglas mounts. And though there were no skylights or electricity, the fog outside acted like a fluorescent lamp and left a pale wash on everything.

I suppose the items left behind had little meaning for whoever was managing the place last. Perhaps these were things that couldn't be sold off, or were broken or had no value to the seller. The cash register was gone, but overhead fans remained, and old lights hung like spiderwebs overhead.

And yet there are still some signs of what used to be here. I captured a shot of a Hillbilly Coffee Mug on one shelf, and wondered to myself how much one would charge for such an item.

I crossed over to the Chuckwagon. Here, the tables are gone, but there are still drink coolers and baskets beside the walls. The room was much cleaner than I thought it would be. Perhaps the whole operation closed down in 2003, once the tourist season was over, and everything was cleaned up for the
dormant winter shutdown. I wonder if the people who worked here knew that Booger Hollow wouldn't reopen for business. There were boxes of nicknacks on the floor, half spilled, as if the person hauling them out decided it wasn't worth picking them up when the box split. The little kitchen was neat as a pin.

I walked back over into the main store, and walked towards the back. And there, to my surprise, was a pamphlet case about half full of Branson fliers. All sorts of shows being advertized -- and no one to take one and stick it in their bag or purse to peruse later. The Arkansas map above has started to deteriorate, but the rack remains.

And this was about the time the moaning started to unnerve me. From the moment I walked in, I had heard noises. I knew logically it was nothing more than the creaking of the old boards in the wind of the dank weather... but it felt like people were still there. Somehow, it seemed like echoes of what used to be there, the customers asking the locals about Arkansas, being told cornpone jokes and sold trinkets and jam. And in a way, it was like the building was mourning the end of those days.

Will it be the end? I have no idea.

I went back to the back door and let myself out, yanking the door hard shut. I tried it, and it wouldn't budge. I hoped that would be enough. While I'm naturally curious, I know there are other people out there who would be less scrupulous, and perhaps take what's left inside -- or worse, vandalize the place.

By the time I made it back around the building and got into my car, my shoes were soaked from the condensation on the grass -- and my camera batteries were low. I looked back one last time and hit the road to head home.

On the way back, I stopped at Chigger Hollow. It's on the same side of the road, several miles closer to Dover. This is the place David Standridge built when it became apparent that he wouldn't be able to realize his dream of owning Booger Hollow. It opened earlier this year. Inside, it's neat as a pin, and there's all sorts of stuff -- ceramics and crafts and shoes and, oh yes, a supply of Hillbilly Souvenirs and a rack of jam and jelly. He says the flea market was going to come later, but instead it's here now, and the whole place is developing. Though there's not much traffic on Highway 7. I get the impression that this undertaking is more a lifelong dream than a moneymaking venture, and I can understand that.

As for Booger Hollow, I miss it. I want to crawl around in my memory and visit it the way it was 20, 30 years ago, when there were never less than five cars in the lot and the smell of smoked meat hung in the air. I don't know what will happen to the old building or its contents, but I can only hope someone else will eventually be able to reopen it and bring back that charm. I suppose a lot of it will have to do with the real estate battle for the land, and whether the tourism traffic will ever pick up again on Scenic 7. Whatever happens, I'm glad I got to visit while it was still vibrant and alive.

POSTSCRIPT: I've watched as Booger Hollow has disintegrated over the years, a little sad over the whole affair. In July 2010, one of the first places I brought Grav to shoot was the old roadside attraction. Even at this point it looked pretty rough.

One of the photos I took on my original venture garnered me a second place price in the This Is Arkansas contest the following year at the Arkansas State Fair.

By 2012, a fence had been erected across the front of the property to discourage others from doing what I did that day. And thats been it. I noticed road work along that stretch last time I went through, and new asphalt put down on the roadbed itself. This Google Street View shows what it pretty much looks like today.

In the spring of 2015, I took my daughter on a trip up Scenic Highway Seven. We stopped briefly by the fence, and I told her stories of Booger Hollow. Honestly, she was more enamoured with Rotary Ann a few miles up - probably because she needed those facilities.

I don't know if the property rights will ever be sorted, or if anyone will ever bring back Booger Hollow. I do know there's a Facebook fan page for those who once visited this place. And I will always revel in the fact that, for about six months after this original piece was written, this article was the number one entry on Google when one put the word "booger" in the search bar. I guess that accounts for something.
~ Kat


  1. I was doing research on Booger Hollow and found this entry. How sad!

    Your entry was very well composed. I mourned for the place, even though I've never been there.

  2. One memory you didn't mention-the wishing well.... One last wish, to someday revisit those lovely times with my grandparents. If I could just go back 40 years knowing what I know now.

    1. I found a photo of the wishing well at the Arkansas State Archives and have now included it in the article. Thanks for the head's up.

  3. What a nice piece of writing. After a recent divorce, I've been sorting boxes and boxes of old photos, and when I find pics of forgotten places, I've been googling, and SO MUCH is gone! I ran across pics of the sign, and my then-young wife in front of the outhouse in the hot summer sunshine back in 1986, and to see your sad pics of the abandoned place in the foggy dampness really touched me. Thanks for the fine article and the flood of memories of driving Scenic 7 over 2 decades ago.

  4. Really excellent essay here, thanks!

  5. I'm sorry to hear the place is gone. I know we have some family photos in front of that outhouse. Thanks so much for going back and taking the pictures.

  6. We had always stopped there anytime
    we went up Hwy 7.We,like you were
    surprised to find it shutdown.We
    went thru there for the first time
    in the late 70's.Always a place that had stuck in my mind.Thanks
    for the great story.

  7. We have went to Booger Hollow every year for 8 years! We pitch tents and ride the trails in the mountains! I always looked forward to going to the trading post on the way home! I was fortunate enough to try the fudge and tomato relish! We always bought a tshirt! I think it was 2005, we passed thae trding post and it had been closed! We were told it was due to illness? Thank you for that wonderful story! I was very curious about it's history!

  8. Hi! My name is Laura Bishop good friend of David Standridge owner of Chigger Hollow 10 miles south of old Booger Hollow. I also had many fond memories of Booger Hollow growing up!
    Hwy 7 traffic is not what it use to be and this is unfortunate for my dear friend Dave's shop. Things are really ruff right now, some days not a dime is pulled in the shop, not kidding! Due to the lack of foot traffic and recent recession he took a full time job in local factory in Russellville. We have recently, re-opened the doors after being closed for 20 months to give it one more shot. Dave gets about 5 hours sleep if lucky, opens up and I help with shop so he can go to work. I do not get paid, I put few items in shop hoping to sell. I also share his dream and love the people who stop in. Problem is there are not many people comming in anymore and no one has the money to spend. And that is a shame, all the shops are really hurting and we have spoke to couple thinking of shutting their doors, can't make it any longer. I have donated my time and hours to this shop in final efforts to help Dave keep his dream. We sit on the porch, me with my little bonnet on and just wave at the people. Now and then you can even catch me out front with my bonnet on and my little empty moonshine jug like the old days at Dogpatch, USA. We have been keeping the faith and recently made a fresh batch of jellies, and I have been busy making soy candles. Our prices are very reasonable and the shelves are full! So we hope next time your up our way, please stop in and have a free cup of hot apple cider, couple cookies and relax with us. We love to visit and swap stories. Oh ya be sure and say howdy to Goomer, he's our local coon dog! God Bless us all! Laura

    1. Laura I'd love o talk to you about Booger Hollow, can you email me:

  9. Kat, this was a very interesting post/blog to happen upon. Booger Hollow was owned by my husbands family, the Johnson's. It is very sad about what happened with it, Charlotte did try to get it back, but alas was not attainable due to circumstances beyond our/her control, we did try. So sad to see the state of it.

  10. I normally don't comment on such, but Boogar Hollow is so much a part of my youth as well asmy early adulthood that I felt that I had to. My first stop at Boogar Hollow was in 1966. I was 14 years old and a resident of the nearby Pope County town of Atkins. For some odd reason I felt a strong connection to the Trading Post. Over the years, I made many stops at the Trading Post on the way to Dogpatch, Branson, or just out for a Sunday afternoon drive. My wife and I have many photos and trinkets from Boogar Hollow. During the Summer of 2009, my younger brother and I took a trip up Highway 7 to spend some time together. Like Kat, we found the buildings deserted, and standing open. We couldn't resist going inside and found ourselves transported to a time that might not have been possible had the Trading Post still been in operation. We spent a considerable amount of time remembering when, and were full of remorse as we exited the buildingfor what might have been the last time ever for us. Thanks, Kat, for the memories.

    1. Do you have any pictures of thr Booger Hollow Chuck Wagon Cafe signs?

  11. HI, just wanted to say "Thank you" for your wonderful story.. for years I have been telling my husband about the little town in the ozarks that was population 7 plus one ole coon dog... I have been wanting to go back and visit for a while but due to financial issues have not been able to... I was there about 20 years ago, I was one of the younguns' in the back of the car begging to stop.. We had been coming back from Silver Dollar City (this is before Branson got so huge)to East central Illinois, it was the last vacation of my childhood innocence... 3 days later my Dad had his first Heart attack... I remembered the out house but especially the trading post... My dad bought me a locally carved stone unicorn, I still have it. I wanted to share the simplicity of the place with my children, and hope, even with the recession and lack of tourists the place will come back. please keep us informed if you go by there again.

  12. HI, just wanted to say "Thank you" for your wonderful story.. for years I have been telling my husband about the little town in the ozarks that was population 7 plus one ole coon dog... I have been wanting to go back and visit for a while but due to financial issues have not been able to... I was there about 20 years ago, I was one of the younguns' in the back of the car begging to stop.. We had been coming back from Silver Dollar City (this is before Branson got so huge)to East central Illinois, it was the last vacation of my childhood innocence... 3 days later my Dad had his first Heart attack... I remembered the out house but especially the trading post... My dad bought me a locally carved stone unicorn, I still have it. I wanted to share the simplicity of the place with my children, and hope, even with the recession and lack of tourists the place will come back. please keep us informed if you go by there again.

  13. I'm a postcard collector and online dealer and have a compulsion to research and "feel the soul" of each the 20,000 cards in my possession. I'm so glad I followed the Wikipedia link to your site! I've never been to Arkansas and my dad never stopped at roadside attractions despite our pleadings and my fascination with them. You've really expanded my understanding of my double-decker outhouse postcard- as it was then, and the loss one feels now. Wish I could go there and get a smoked ham!

  14. Thanks for solving a great mystery. In the winter of 2004/2005 I was preparing to deploy to Iraq. I took the family and kids on an off season vacation trip of my favorite family vacation spots in North Arkansas. On a whim, I convinced the wife to load up three small children and drive an hour to see Booger Hollow and the Double Decker Out House.

    I built up a wonderful story to my children and we were all excited. As we approached and saw the signs the 8 year old began calling the count down. The 7 yo and the yo squirmed with anticipation.

    Finally, we arrived and it was closed. The I mourned the death of a childhood fantasy, the kids cried, and the wife reaffirmed that she thought this was a bad idea from the beginning.

    Thanks again for shining the light.

  15. I loved your story too, Kat. A comment by a friend of a friend in Facebook got me interested, and I found your moving story and photos. I'm far away in Bonnie Doon Australia, and I've enjoyed my trip to Booger Hollow with you.

  16. In Shreveport, La.June 9, 2011 at 5:35 PM

    I was telling my husband about the little town of Booger Hollow and how my brother and I anticipated going there every summer on our way to Branson. Our little family decided to go to Hot Springs, so my first thought was, "my boys sure would love to visit that little hilbilly town."

    My dad is a self proclaimed hilbilly straight from the hills of Arkansas and he is always talking to the boys about coons, deer, and all things hilbilly.

    I looked it up online to see how to get there from Hot Springs, and was so dissapointed when I found out it was closed. Your blog really was wonderful and made me mourn my days of "fake" smoking my corncob pipe and having "a round tuit" in my pocket. I still have that little disc.

    Hopefully we can visit Chigger Hollow and find a place that is half of what Booger Hollow was to me, for my boys to have some good memories of the little hilbilly town. Thanks for your lovely post.


  17. Booger Hollow and the Trading Post meant a lot to me as my parents were the original owners and built Booger Hollow the town from the ground up. We lived only a half mile from there. I worked there every summer from 1967 until I moved out of state in 1979. I had a lot of fantastic memories of the fun we had there and the great people we met. It is hard to see the place in dis-repair as I spent many hours re-finishing the wood floors and painting the road signs.

    1. I would really love to speak to you if possible. I recently bought 4 small, beautiful matching pieces of pottery from an estate sale. Engraved, rather written, on the bottom of each are the words Booger Hollow with the initials AJ. I desperately want to know about these pieces. Email please Thank you so much for your amazing accounts!

  18. Great interview Lee. I am sorry it took me so long to get to this. I especially agree with his suggestion to get an electric pencil sharpener.

    I got to see Mr. Willems in DC at an early childhood conference. I can remember thanking him for bringing pigeon into our lives. Ha!
    English Bulldog Puppies

  19. Great article! My great grandfather Homer Lee used to run moonshine up around Booger Holler back in the 1920's. I love the rich history surrounding the area. If anyone is interested in reading here is an article from back then about Homer and some of his fellow shiners.


    Dave (

  20. Ms. Robinson, thank you for the wonderful article and account. And for the great photos! I was taking a "trip down memory lane" on Google Maps, and discovered the demise of the trading post. Very sad. I didn't quite recognize it, and it was different than I remembered it. So I did some web searching, and I ran across your page. There was what I remembered: the old late-1960's photo of the man in front of the chuck wagon porch is exactly what I remembered. We used to stop there and sit at a table on that porch, and have lemonade or sarsaparilla. Not sure, but I think in the summer they may have had fresh watermelon also. We sent there many times - either traveling with my dad during the summer when he traveled on business, or when we lived in Russellville in the early-mid '70's, we'd drive up through there for a Saturday day trip, or a Sunday drive after church. In the fall we'd stop there and then go on up north to look at the fall color. The last time I think we went through there was after we moved to Texas, but were in that area, but that was probably about 40 years ago.

  21. Thank you, for reminding me of the good times when booger hollow was still around.

  22. This was originally owned (and created?) By Dan and Peggy Huffman. They were very close friends with my parents and I spent many hours there thru the years, prior to 1967. The gentleman standing in the photo with the smoker is Dan Huffman. Oh the fun and wonderful memories! Dan and Peggy, along with son Brandob, lived IN the hollow, down the mountain.

  23. Great info! I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don’t know what to say except that I have. Ghosts

  24. Read your article. I stopped in there back in 2004 to show my daughter and her boyfriend and tell them stories from me growing up and going there. I am from Texas but spent my summers in Arkansas as my Great Grandma and a grandpa had a cabin and land there in between Jasper and Parthanon. My dream was always to move up there when I grew up. I am still trying to figure out a way to get there. So many memories in that area for me. Thank you for sharing this.

  25. My aunt lived on Hiwy 7 near Dover. Many of her quilts were sold at Booger Hollow. She had taught school at a one room schoolhouse nearby
    We always stopped there when we went up 7. My Dad had find memories of the area. I have an old wood stove that I got from her barn. My Dad inherited her little house and property.~sp Bossier Parish, Louisiana.

  26. We had to stop every summer when we went to dogpatch the last pic I have of my dad was him sitting on a bench on the porch I was so sad when I went there last time to see it so run down

  27. The standrige's across the street from there are my kin folks. I remember many of summer hanging around there. All my cousins and aunt worked in the gift shop , restaurant and dog patch. Alot of memories run through my mind when passing through there.


Be kind.