Jul 232023
 

It’s a guided tour of the bygone and often amusingly naïve efforts to attract travelers and tourists of the Ozark hills of southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. Up front is a disclaimer, “Okay faithful readers, this is your final warning. If you have an aversion to traditional hillbilly stereotypes such as these, you are advised to turn around and go back right now, because things are only going to get worse from here.” Scruffy mountaineers are indeed a regional icon, but they have apparently left the roadsides retreating deeper into the woods. Today’s motifs are more likely to be borrowed from popular culture. In Chapter One, “Thar’s Gold in Them Thar Hillbillies,” the shift is noted:

“Today’s young people are totally unfamiliar with the traditional “hillbilly” image made famous by movies, television, cartoons and the tourism industry. There are no doubt many mountain residents who consider that a good thing, but there was indeed a time when the depiction of the lazy, bearded hillbilly with floppy hat and accompanying hound dog was among the most popular graphics of the Ozarks.”

Remnants of hillbilly signage are scarce and in shabby shape. The book compensates for this by using pristine examples photographed by John Margolies, the godfather of roadside Americana. His sharp color-saturated depictions of crazy attractions enliven the review of past Ozark tourism. A chrome orange billboard for Dogpatch USA is on the cover. Tim Hollis has an enormous archive of memorabilia, tourist literature and souvenirs. They too of course are still vivid and contrast with contemporary shots of decaying and abandoned attractions.

Hollis is a superb tour guide. His corny humor notwithstanding, it must be admitted this stuff invites satiric comment. He is addicted to Hee-Haw humor. Among his 39 published titles is Rural Comedy in the Twentieth Century. It was published, as were a number of other of his pop culture studies, by the University Press of Mississippi.

This profusely illustrated, well organized and researched book was a breezy read. Hollis’ approach is neither condescending nor campy. The awesome capacity of roadside attractions to be tastelessly compelling is proven. As he admonished in the beginning: if you’re troubled by the cliches of moonshine-making hill folk, this won’t be a book for you. Of all regional and ethnic stereotypes, the Ozark mountaineer has largely skirted controversy.

A strength of this book is that the author visited many of the shuttered tourist businesses and reports on the actualities of their demise. He also reached out to fellow aficionados of roadside culture. Count us as one. We supplied several photographs and three of our Ozarks books are listed in the bibliography.

Tim Hollis has successfully portrayed these perished attractions because he is in sync with their goofy charm and wondrous indifference to good taste.

Lost Attractions of the Ozarks is the latest in Tim Hollis’s series of Lost Attractions of… books published by The History Press, Charleston, SC. 144 pages, 6 x 9, $23.99.

Available at the publisher’s website, and on amazon.com  and Barnes & Noble

Mar 112020
 

Powersite Dam, 1920s postcard. White River Art Station.

Real photo postcards were produced one at a time, usually by the photographer himself, which made them ideal for small regional markets; it also means they are less common today on the collector’s market. As Ozark tourism grew, entrepreneurs turned to producing printed postcards, which could be printed in large runs. After A.K. Bishop, an early producer of real photo postcards, died in 1925, his widow, Mrs. Grace Bishop, continued in the picture-postcard business. Her stock and trade were mechanically reproduced postcards. A photograph was hand-colored then reproduced as a lithograph to be printed by the thousands. Mrs. Bishop operated a store in Branson, the White River Art Station, and labeled her postcards with that name.

When a large flood inundated Branson in 1927 an article in the Stone County News Oracle (April 27), Galena, gave an indication of the scale of the printed postcard business. The article noted she had not suffered as much damage: “Possibly one who suffered the least in the form of ruined stock was Mrs. Grace Bishop of the White River Art Station.” She had placed her stock on high shelves and was able to enter the studio in a rowboat and retrieve her stock: “Mrs. Bishop says she has a hundred thousand picture cards on hand and two hundred thousand ordered. She is ready for summer any day she wants to come.”

An abundance of White River Art Station printed postcards are for sale on eBay and through postcard dealers throughout America for a few dollars. George Hall’s real photo postcards, however, are rarely for sale and can bring $60 to $200.

 

Lens & Pen books are available for purchase on this website on amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble. See sample pages from our new book, Lover’s Leap Legends: From Sappho of Lesbos to Wah-Wah-Tee of Waco, on our website: hypercommon.com