The ultimate field trip most summers was a trip to my house. When I was owner of The Children’s Center, our summer outings usually included a field trip to my house.
The twenty minute ride to my underground home in the middle of forty wooded acres usually included a conversation about litter and the importance of keeping our good Earth clean. The ride down Germantown Road also included taking in the bright green road sides and if we were in luck some of the black eyed Susan’s, one of my favorite flowers, were in full bloom.
Part of the outing included advance preparation. Those in attendance were instructed to bring a change of clothes and a pair of shoes they didn’t mind getting muddy. We would also start the adventure off with making sure the kids were ‘vaccinated’ with bug spray. Dressed out in their play clothes and their kick around shoes, we set off to travel the shallow creek that runs in front of our house.
A natural spring at the top of our hill feeds the winding creek that runs the length of our property and beyond. Cutting through huge stands of pine trees and winding around massive beech trees, it’s a sight I have never gotten tired of in my more than thirty years here.
I would take the kids down the creek to a hilly area where some of the bluffs that line the creek made the perfect slide. I remember Daniel Lee having the time of his life sliding down those bluffs to the shallow creek below. He couldn’t get enough of it. And then there was Paula Brown who didn’t like getting dirty but accidentally fell in the creek.
While we were taking our little hike through never-never land, I would always engage the girls in finding young grape vines and wrapping them into fairy wreaths for their heads. We would add some flowers or whatever they thought would enhance their earthly halo.
Once we made it back to the house, I usually had to wash a few clothes and shoes and the kids would put on one of Rick’s big tee shirts. They loved sitting around in the den and admiring all the artwork. And that usually gave me an opportunity to share a true story with them about a particular piece of art in our living room.
Teaching kids to love and admire art was one of my passions. I couldn’t understand sometimes why some of the kids didn’t want to paint or draw or learn about this wonderful world of creativity. I would often hear “do I have to?” And “why do you want us to do this?” In my effort to expose the children to as many art forms as I could would result in them asking why they had to do this on many occasions. They just didn’t understand why I thought it was so important. I had always hoped that this field trip to my house would help them understand me and understand why I thought the arts were so important.
One of the most impressive pieces of art in our home is a seven foot wood carving of an old Indian woman. Carved out of a huge walnut tree, the crippled Indian woman carrying a bundle of wood commands attention. The kids would want to know who she was, what’s she made of and who made her? Charles Widmer of Mountain View, Arkansas carved the massive piece around 1990. How we acquired the piece is another story.
I started this ‘show and tell’ time with who the artist was and then I would tell them about his childhood…. a story that Charles Widmer shared with us. As the story goes; Charles ran away from home when he was only 13 years old. He joined a motorcycle gang and for more than twenty five years he would spend his youth traveling the country side trying to survive his chosen hand to mouth existence. His time as a member of "Hell’s Angels” was not a proud time for him according to Charles. He was hesitant at first to share his early adolescence with us. As Charles would tell it, he was a troubled child and didn’t do well in school. In fact he was illiterate. But at some point in his young life he was given a rare opportunity to work side by side with an older gentleman who carved wood. He taught the young Charles to whittle.
At the age of 30 Charles made his way back home to his hometown of Mountain View, Arkansas and moved back in with his father. Without knowing how to read or write and having no skills at all, he struggled with employment. His dad had mentioned to him that when he was young he seemed to have a talent for whittling and suggested that maybe he could make a living as a craftsmen. And if you know anything about Mountain View, Arkansas, then you know it is the Mecca of folk art and mountain music. Charles signed up for one of the wood carving workshops offered at the Ozark Folk Center. And this is where I explain to the kids that his early exposure to wood carving sparked something in his brain and without knowing it; he was exposed to the one thing that would make him the man he would become. And it would later become his passion and his purpose.
Wood carving was the one thing that he was good at. And not just good, he was great. As most artists in Mountain View, tourist season would offer opportunities for the locals to sell their art or craft. Charles began to create and sell original carved creations. President Jimmy Carter came to visit and happened upon the shop where Charles was selling his work. President Carter was so taken with the artist and his carving abilities that he commissioned him to carve a life-sized Eagle for the Carter Library. The wood carver from Mountain View, Arkansas who couldn’t read or write was now getting national attention.
The Indian carving in our living room called “The Burden” was carved from a story Charles’ father told him as a child. The story was about an old Indian woman Charles’s father saw as a young man. The old Indian woman with one crippled leg would walk miles into the Texas dessert to collect fire wood and strap it to her back. She managed to eke out a living selling her wood….and now Charles was doing the same.
The window of opportunity for some of our children is small. We don’t know what triggers the brain to accept a certain experience or skill. But for Charles, that early exposure to wood carving hibernated in his brain and was awakened in time to bring him fame and riches. Of course, his riches were modest but enough to sustain him and his wife.
In sharing this story with the kids that would visit my home, it was my hope that they would come to understand how important it would be in their life, to open their minds and open their hearts to opportunities for greater learning. "Be open to experience new things and learn new ways," I would tell them. "Reading, writing and arithmetic are important but it’s passion that will help define your lives and give you purpose. And there is great passion in the arts for those who are willing to open their minds to it."
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