By Kenneth Thomas
Prior to you see it, you hear it– the hush of present against limestone, the resemble of a jay winging down a hollow. That’s the Buffalo River, and for greater than fifty years it has actually moved not just via the Ozark hills, yet with the heart of Arkansas’s story.
A River Almost Lost
Long prior to it became a national park, the Buffalo was a functioning river. Generations of loggers floated hardwood, seekers tracked deer along its crushed rock bars, households fished the deep swimming pools that turn emerald in springtime.
Then came the age of dams.
By the 1940 s the U.S. Military Corps of Engineers had the Buffalo marked for hydro-electric jobs under the 1938 Flood Control Act. To many Arkansans that meant progression– electrical energy, work, flood control. To others, it suggested drowning a wild valley older than background itself.
The Citizens Who Defended a River
In the 1960 s, average Arkansans turned extraordinary conservationists.
A Fayetteville physician, Dr. Neil Compton, gathered pals into a little attire with a big conviction: some rivers deserve much more alive than tamed. They called themselves The Ozark Society.