The Fallow Field: Johnny Cash's Boyhood Home Sits Empty, But Not For Long.

The Arkansas Delta may be home to the longest, prettiest sunsets I have ever seen. Miles of flatland along the Mississippi River alluvial plain give way only to the seam of distant treelines, straight up into the sky.

But unlike my ancestral homeroots in southwest Arkansas, the roads here are straight and the topsoil lies 200 feet deep, a slurry of mud hardened only by drought or cold or decades of passing tires, double-rutted dirt roads a slash across thousands of acres of fields…
white rows of cotton tops in summer, neon slices of green when the winter wheat starts to poke up its head. And when the fields are fallow, a textured turn-up of mud or the black of new ash from burn-offs patch their way together all the way to the horizon.

And the wind… it never stops. Sometimes it blows distant treetops along the St. Francis River, the silent undulation barely visible in the distance. Sometimes it kicks up dust and sediment and sends it scurrying along the roadside. In November, the cotton wind blows, ethereal spiderwebs grown rather than spun, released from bolls and gravity to hover. In July, it feels as if the devil himself is panting from the long run across the county. And when the wind turns, you can sometimes hear the echo of distant Interstate 55… or the howl of a wrong-way storm.

Eleanor Roosevelt gives a speech at Dyess Colony,
June 9, 1936.

That wind shakes shutters and huffs away at the chinks of every home. And into this wind young JR Cash was brought at the age of three, with his brothers and sisters by parents taking advantage of the Dyess Colony deal… 20 or 40 acres of land, a five room house, a barn, an outhouse and a chicken coop back in 1936. That deal, open to families with a farming background from the state’s relief rolls selected through an application process that included six pages of paperwork, was a ray of hope for those who’d tried to keep going through flood, drought and the Great Depression and a godsend to Ray Cash, whose farm at Kingsland had all but completely failed.

Though the wind was unforgiving, the land itself was pure gold, rich and fertile. And despite the floods and the droughts, it was enough to scrape out a life.

Today, if you head east from Lepanto on Highway 14 and you glance out to the right, you might catch sight of a white house with a green roof. When the fields are fallow and the sky is clear, you can see it three miles out. A right-hand turn to the south on Highway 77 will bring you to a junction with a little gravel road… and the little house is the only one in view.

This gravel road has seen thousands over its lifetime – first farmers in their trucks and then their children, running barefoot on the hard-pack and small rocks covering the gumbo soil below. They call it gumbo soil because it is a mixture of many things – but it is soft, too, so soft that houses not placed on a slab of concrete tend to twist and sink over time.

That’s what happened to the house that once stood on blocks here… painted over time, sure, but its spine was broken and it leaned out a little too far here and there. Not even five years ago this is what the house looked like, aching and pitiful.

But not any more.

In 2012, Arkansas State University acquired this property and another – in Dyess proper, the old administration building and bandshell at the heart of the little town.  A few months from now, you’ll be able to visit the Dyess administration building, the old bandshell and… yes… even the childhood home of one JR – later Johnny – Cash.

Joanne Cash Yates, Tommy Cash, Rosanne Cash and Joy
Williams and John Paul White of The Civil Wars practice
before the second Johnny Cash Music Festival,
October 5, 2012.

That’s not to say you can’t make the pilgrimage now. In fact, many do – especially music lovers or anyone with a great amount of interest traveling in the Lepanto or Wilson area.

A-State acquired the properties for its Arkansas Heritage Sites program, and through funds raised by the Johnny Cash Music Festivals and with the help of Tommy and Joanne Cash (Johnny’s brother and sister) added to the hard work of Dr. Ruth Hawkins and her staff, the home has been restored to its original glory.

A few months ago, I was one of a few offered the chance to visit the home. What I saw surprised me.

The first thing was the wood clad walls. When you walk through the front door, that’s what greets you – wood walls, floor and ceiling with nary a cover. This was the main room of the house. There’s now an original linoleum piece on the floor but on this visit it was barren.

Dr. Hawkins explained that there had been a lot of work to do here… including replacing rotten boards with similar pieces of wood that would age properly with the rest… and moving the door frame back to its original location while salvaging the wood to patch everything back to where it needed to be.

To the left, that doorway takes you through to the old dining space and kitchen… complete with a sink recently scavenged to place here. It sits before a window that looked out on fields of cotton.

This time of year, the fields lay fallow, with the colder than normal winter and its winds huffing the loose dust into the wind to create a motion of brown swirls visible from that kitchen perch.

Back bedroom.

Bathroom.

To the right of the living area lay a small hall and three rooms – one intended to be a bathroom (though it was not plumbed out while the Cashes lived there, it was where a tub was kept to fill with water for bathing) and two bedrooms. The back bedroom was where Ray and Carrie slept in one bed, with one of their daughters in the other.

Front bedroom.

And in the front of the house was the bedroom shared by the other siblings – two girls to the left, and two boys to the right. One of those boys was Johnny Cash.

As I mentioned, the family came to Dyess Colony in March 1936. Wind brought the heat and it brought the cold… in fact, in April 1936 a record monthly low was set of just 23 degrees one night. And the next year, floods would inundate the colony, a story Cash will tell you about himself in this clip from 1958.



The family may have made for high land and spent time waiting for the waters to recede hours away in Pine Bluff, but they did come back – indeed, JR Cash lived in the house at Dyess from the time he was three until he was 18 and headed for the Air Force. The military wouldn’t take him without having what they considered to be a “real name,” and though JR had been named such by his daddy, he took the name “John R. Cash” that day in 1950. Five years later when he signed with Sun Records in Memphis, he signed on as the man we know today… who would become the Man in Black… Johnny Cash.

The wheat, the oats, the little garden in the back… when you’re just listening to the music, the ideas tack together in your mind. But here, out on the plain between Lepanto on the St. Francis River Bayou on the

Joanne Cash Yates with
Carrie Cash's piano,
February 27, 2012.

one side and Dyess proper a few miles to the other, standing on the back porch, you can almost see the rows formed out in front of you… you can almost hear the crackle of the radio in that wind, the radio that brought Big Bill Broonzy, Robert Johnson and Louis Jordan across miles to be heard on a porch in the Arkansas Delta… that would inspire a young boy.

There was other music here – Carrie Cash’s piano and the voices of family members raised in praise and harmony over the years. That piano will come back to the home soon – the mayor of Dyess, Larry Sims, located and preserved the upright.

The house as it stands today is strong, its spine restored, its walls refreshed and its contents collected. It won’t fall again. Part of the process of restoring the house included its relocation off its original foundation, the excavation of several feet of soil under where it had sat, the pouring of a deep thick slab of concrete and the covering of such with a thin layer of gumbo soil.

Today the house looks as if it was never moved – except for a lone cornerstone declaring both the date of its original construction and its revitalization.

There is far more to be done to the boyhood home of Johnny Cash. The efforts to complete the restoration and to collect the items that will be displayed within continues. In Dyess itself,
the administration building is under its own renovation progress, and the bandshell next door is being stabilized.
You can still see the foundation of a stage to the big building’s other side, next to the city hall.

And across the street, you’ll find yourself at the corner of Johnny Cash and Gene Williams, one of the town’s other native sons.

A few months from now, the doors will open to the Johnny Cash Boyhood Home, and a grand celebration will be held during the Johnny Cash Music Festival weekend events August 16th. Thousands are expected to make the pilgrimage at that time.

But right now, you can travel the distance yourself. If it’s a sunny day, it might be a long stop to stretch your legs, read the sign and gaze at the home behind its protective fence. But if the wind blows hard, listen for the song it carries as it bears upon its back time and blues and maybe even a hint of the cotton wind.

For more information about the Johnny Cash Boyhood Home, head to this ever-evolving website created and maintained by Arkansas State University. You’ll also find a touching tribute to Cash and memories shared by his daughter Rosanne Cash by the remarkable folks at CBS Sunday Morning, and a story on the restoration efforts by Little Rock CBS affiliate THV 11. And for more information on the Dyess Colony, check out this entry from the Encyclopedia of Arkansas.

***

Reader bonus:  Here's the bandshell under restoration.

In the center of the semi-circle drive in front of the administration building, you'll see this plaque for a flagpole placed in honor of the 200th birthday of the United States, placed in 1976.

And here's that flagpole.

There's also a souvenir stand between Dyess and the Johnny Cash Boyhood Home on Highway 14.

And northeast of the administration building, you can still visit the arch from the high school JR Cash attended.

A Pie Lover's Dream All February at Capital Bar and Grill.

You missed this bourbon chocolate pecan pie.  Sorry.

Capital Bar and Grill is doing something I've hoped for a long time now -- presenting a dizzying array of pies to consume with gusto -- far more than your run of the mill meringue in chocolate or coconut, but a selection of delicious pies submitted by the entire staff at the Capital Hotel, vetted by a prime staff and presented, one each night during the entire month of February, to an eager crowd.

And that first pie right there... the bourbon chocolate pecan pie... you just missed it.

Don't gripe at me about it -- I shared it on Facebook and Twitter and even absorbed a slice myself, and you really missed out.

February is that month which we all should endeavor to keep close to our hearts -- it's National Pie Month, and while Arkansas has yet to be definitively lauded as the land of pie, it's merely a matter of time.  CBG's devotion to a singular idea of sharing these amazing pies is one I can get behind.

The piemakers of legend.

I sat down with CBG chef Zach Pullam and Capital Hotel pastry chef Jamie Hornby this past week to discuss the idea.  It's a simple one, sure -- gather all the best ideas about pies in a hotel and then present them, one each dinner, for a month. But it's far more than that.  Amongst the offerings are the black bottom pie (Grav Weldon's favorite, one offered few places), brandied cherry -- even Nutella.

Grav Weldon went early on the first day to photograph the introductory pie and another -- a test run at a coconut cream pie that he's now declared the best he's tried (so sorry, Miss Anna's).  Throughout the month we're going to be going back repeatedly to see if we can photograph them all.

Sound ambitious?  Seems a necessity to me, with us being such fans and proponents of the Arkansas pie agenda.

For your convenience, here are the pies and their corresponding dates:

1.  Bourbon chocolate pecan pie.  You missed out on this rich dark chocolate wonder with delicately roasted pecans and a nice slug of bourbon on the end.

2.  Tradtional blueberry.

3.  S'mores.

4.  Black bottom.

5.  Banana toffee.

6.  Grasshopper.

7.  Lemon meringue.

8.  Dark and Stormy (yes, like the delicious alcoholic concoction).

9.  Chocolate-Mocha Cream.

10.  Malted Walnut.

11.  Custard.  I understand this to be an egg custard flavored with vanilla.

12.  Ancho Chile Fudge.  Ole!

13.  Traditional blackberry.

14.  Chocolate Lover's -- of course, it's Valentine's Day!

15.  Snicker's.

16.  Traditional strawberry.

17.  Chocolate chess.

18.  Apple streusel.

19.  Key lime.

20.  Brandied cherry.

21.  Peanut butter silk.

22.  Lemon ice box.

23.  Traditional raspberry.

24.  Butterscotch.

25.  Coconut cream. The test batch was marvelous -- with coconut notes both in cream and custard and a nice flavor at the end reminiscent of husk -- what I mean to say is, tastes like fresh-grated to me!

26.  Pumpkin praline.

27.  Nutella.

28.  Mississippi mud pie.

And now, the rest of the photographs... just for a little salivation.

I know, it's not pie, but Grav did take this photo of loaves of
crusty bread ready for so much... 

The Tavern Sparks: Wilson Cafe Renewed.

Locals will tell you that there's always been a tavern in the heart of Wilson, AR.  It's had many names and many proprietors, but the little dining spot right on the town square has been going on and off for more than 100 years.  The Wilson Cafe operating in that building today carries the tradition on -- and yes, it's STILL called The Tavern.

The little Mississippi River town along the Great River Road is named after R. E. Lee Wilson, a county resident who traded his late father's cleared farmland for timberland, then held onto the property and started what would eventually become a company town.  He built a sawmill, and by 1886 there was also a company store and residences.  I haven't been able to locate an exact date, but the Wilson Tavern was opened sometime around the turn of the century.

In 1925, R. E. Lee Wilson's similarly named son returned from his honeymoon to England with a vision of what the town of Wilson should look like.  The new buildings that went up during this time were of Tudor influence, and older buildings were retrofitted to match this new brown-and-cream wood-and-brick style.  Every building took on this veneer, including the local department store, post office, bank, gas station and grocery store.  Today, these buildings still stand.

And in what was once Wilson Tavern (and many other things), a restaurant now operates as the Wilson Cafe.  What's beyond the doors of this cottage is a surprisingly updated menu with a locavore commitment, thanks to Chef Joe Cartwright.  As always, locals pack the place out Tuesday through Saturday for lunch or brunch -- but now they're joined by others who come from Memphis, Jonesboro and even further away.  And dinner?

Well, I'll have to get back there for dinner.

Lunch, though...

We stopped in on a Thursday afternoon to meet others and chat about the town.  The main room was packed and noisy... gray, sure, but so reminiscent of those earlier days.  I saw salads and sandwiches and lots of hot beverages (it was a very windy day, probably 40 degrees when we arrived).  Conversations abounded.

The main room is large, but there are also other rooms -- a private front room with a large table and chandelier and a lounge towards the back with its own entrance.  I would later learn that while the cafe currently does not sell alcohol, this area is set up to do just that.

Along one wall, there was a full station of glassware.  Another -- a wait station and a line of paintings by local artist Norwood Creech.  Our waitress was already prepared with menus for us and brought to our table beverages -- including clear strong tea.

Chef Joe's specials for the day included a catfish po'boy, a smoked turkey and provolone sandwich, sweet potato pie and sweet potato soup -- the last of which one of my dining companions chose for a starter.  The mug-bourne concoction arrived at the table first, hot and fragrant and reminiscent of Sunday after Christmas, a steamy concoction of pureed sweet potato nurtured with nutmeg, cinnamon and other spices.  The slivers of sweet potato skin on top were just an indication of its contents -- but the scent told more of the story.

Our lunches arrived.  One of my companions had chosen the catfish po'boy and it arrived accompanied by parmesan fries.  The thick cornmeal-coated planks of catfish and chunky slices of tomato were pasted to their golden rolls gorgeously.

But honestly, I had far more interest in my meal, delivered all at once -- the Thursday special of pan seared Mississippi catfish, served alongside two sides -- my choices, roasted root vegetables and the Nice Little Salad.  The fragrance of delicately balanced spicing on the warm plate emanated quickly across the table, tantalizing.  I had to try this dish of fish before I tackled the cool salad to the side.

And this buttery, perfectly seared and seasoned fillet just may be the best catfish I have ever had in my life.  It was light but warming with a careful hand to the Creole spicing scattered on its top.  Even the non-catfish lover at my table declared it good... and that's saying something.

The roasted vegetables, rather than being the overused blend of squash and zucchini familiar to so many places, were a combination of roasted but still firm and slightly crusty sweet potatoes, carrots and squash (in this case, likely a butternut or acorn, I did not discern which), roasted together with red and green bell peppers and onions to a light char.  They were marvelous.

The plate was complete with ramekins of a textured remoulade high on garlic and a peppery -- and I do mean black peppery -- finely cut coleslaw.  There was also a white roll, sadly the only thing not exceptional here.

I even adored the Nice Little Salad -- field greens topped with long thin slices of carrot over cucumber with cornbread croutons and a very chunky bleu cheese dressing.  Yes, it is a nice salad.

Over our lunches, we talked with John Faulkner with the Lawrence Group, which hopes to revitalize and refocus Wilson.  I'm sure I'll have plenty to tell you about this in the future -- but of course, I'm just talking about the Wilson Cafe today.  He did share with us the story of how Chef Joe Cartwright, formerly of The Elegant Farmer in Memphis, came to the place.  Turns out, John would call about to different restaurants in Memphis looking for a suitable candidate willing to pull up roots and set up shop in a tiny burg... and Chef Mac Edwards answered the phone.  He suggested asking Cartwright, a young man who's spent a good portion of his life in the Arkansas Delta, as an option.  Cartwright agreed, moved to Wilson and on December 20th served up the first menu at his version of the Wilson Cafe.

John insisted that we needed to try all of the desserts offered for the day, which we did, sharing three plates of amazing confection.  The sweet potato pie on the specials board was perfectly spiced -- indeed, at first I thought I had a pumpkin pie, until the last of the spice came to the palate.  The swab of hand-beaten slightly soured cream atop the delicacy was lovely.

It matched that real sweet cream dabbed over the chocolate chess pie... which, I must admit, is now amongst my favorite in the chess pie category.  Its deep unabashedly dark flavor was solid and unyielding, the flavors of old fashioned cocoa and sugar and butter strong.  Its flavor reminded me of the French practice of pairing fresh baguette with bitter chocolate... and, if I had not been in polite company and busy flapping my gums about preservation and restoration, I would have inhaled it.

But the bigger hit with my dining companions was the doughnut bread pudding... exactly what it says on the tin, a bread pudding made from eggs, milk and torn pieces of doughnut, topped simply with real whipped cream and surrounded by a drizzle of creme anglaise.  Spiced simply with cinnamon, this deceptively modest offering was the star of the trio.

Chef joined us for a short bit, sharing about himself with that characteristic long ah lilt of a northeast Arkansas native, that same sort of four beat speak I grew accustomed to during my years in Jonesboro. The 32-year old Memphis-born culinarian was raised in West Memphis, and we share a couple of things -- he happened to attend school at Arkansas State in Jonesboro (I didn't attend ASU, but I lived there during my KAIT years), was a music ed major like me, and started his cooking career at my favorite restaurant in that town -- Lazzari Italian Oven.  He worked his way up through the Memphis food scene with stints at the Mesquite Chop House and Spindini... Wilson Cafe could be considered a bit of a stretch, or a bit of a challenge.  Joe seems to be the sort of guy who enjoys a good challenge.

We had other stops to make that day, and couldn't stay longer... but I will be back.  There are stories to be told about Wilson, sure -- and about the Dyess colony just 12 miles away -- and the boyhood home of Johnny Cash.  Those stories will come later.  For now, I'd suggest you consider stopping by the little Tudor cottage on Highway 61.  It's off the interstate in a town of less than a thousand people... but you'll find a good meal there any Tuesday through Sunday lunch or Thursday through Saturday dinner.  Oh, and Thursday there's live music, too.  Check out the Facebook page or call (870) 655-0222.

And for more on the Wilson redevelopment, check out this New York Times article by Kim Severson.