Tom Hodges called me in an offered an odd but exhilarating
assignment. His banker friend and another man were interested in a piece of
property way out to the west of Little Rock, beyond any existing development.
The property had some interesting topography including high elevations. They
wanted to know if the views from its would justify developing it as prime
residential property, and they needed to know soon.
He knew I had an interest in photography and wanted to know
if I’d like to take off Friday, go out west, and take some photographs from the
property.
Oh, wouldn’t I though? I called Brenda from a pay phone during
the lunch break.
“Want to take a walk tomorrow and do some exploring?”
Silence.
“I need to go photograph a piece of property.”
“Where?”
“Out west in the middle of nowhere. Almost to Pinnacle
Mountain.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll buy your lunch and all you have to do is carry my
camera bag.”
“Okay.”
My orders were to explore the highest parts of the property
and see if there were any spectacular views of the river and it's valley that
would justify expensive homes. Tom gave me directions and instructions. I was
all set.
That evening, we went out to a club called “The Quarter
Note.” We met Jack Castin and his wife Debra there and had a good time getting acquainted.
His wife was British, so that gave the affair a cosmopolitan feeling. We didn’t
get home until late.
I was up early, wondering when I might call her and get the
show going. Around nine in the morning, she called me. “We going or not?” she
asked.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We started out. First, though, we picked up coffee at our
beloved Burger Chef. I had my faithful Pentax Spotmatic camera, along with
lenses and film, in a brown camera bag. The Green Angel climbed Cantrell Hill
and we headed west. Soon, we passed the entrance to Walton Heights, a
subdivision overlooking the Arkansas River. We had driven along its main street
before, stopping at the western terminus where, as yet, undeveloped lots
offered a magnificent view of the river and Pinnacle Mountain. It was one of
Brenda’s favorite spots.
Today, though, we sped westward.
Cantrell became Highway 10 and we continued. We passed a
small African-American settlement called “Pankey” and development ended except
for scattered rural homes. We eventually turned off to the north and followed
directions to the property. That’s when I found out that it was just a hill covered
with rock and hardwoods in equal proportions. It wasn’t as high as Pinnacle, but
it looked like Everest to me. A barely discernible trail led up its western
side.
After putting film in the camera, I handed her the bag full
of extra lenses, and we started up the hill. Within minutes, I began to pant,
and she began to laugh. My fat butt was dragging by the time we reached the top.
Once there, I discovered the thick vegetation prevented any view of the surrounding
world. You couldn’t see jack-diddly squat.
I decided to climb a tree. She laughed some more. I still
couldn’t see anything to photograph. What a fine day this was turning out to
be. My girlfriend found out I was physically unfit, and I was failing an
assignment from my boss. As I thought of this, a limb snapped and I slid a
foot down the tree, grinding bark into my clothes. I looked and saw that she
had turned away. She was pretending that she hadn’t seen me, but shaking
shoulders gave her away.
There was nothing to do but climb down and brush myself off
as best I could. Sweating now, I snapped a few shots to let Tom know I had
tried. Took one of her while she was still laughing, and we started down the
hill.
“Maybe I need some exercise,” I said.
“We could try tennis,” she said.
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| The cutest helper in the whole world. |
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