Morrilton, Arkansas is a town of the living dead, where the sun doesn't shine quite as bright or feel quite as warm as other locations. It begins just this side of Conway, AR heading west and extends to just the other side of Russellville, AR also westbound. A feeling of being caught up in a thick fog, or of something simply not quite right. Buses don't stop in Morrilton or is there even a horse and buggy taxi service, let along motorized transient service. For those without personal transportation, and shut ins, it's nothing more than a true prison, solitary confinement & living death until true death comes and takes them. For some Morrilton is a literal prison without visible walls or visible guards, some literally are unwilling prisoners of Morrilton for various reasons. An evil old Will rules and protects this location and lives on the life forces of those in it, it sucks away all happiness all will and joy and in it's place forces in Despair, Depression, Fear Chronic Disease and Hopelessness.
Morrilton, AR and Conway County is The Port Royal Of Arkansas, where evil thrives and sin abides. Where depression, poverty, hopeless, fear and despair are literally forced and all joy and happiness shipped away. Where any outside progress is torn to shreds in in only a few short days and weeks.
The Morrilton Curse
No jobs, serious meth problems the gas companies have ruined the environment overall not a good experience. Morrilton should be on your number 1 list of worst cities in AR to have to live in. A dead little nowhere living death town that sucks the life and steals dreams and ideas of the impoverished. The little town with no limits on how much people can hate, steal, sabotage and backstab their neighbors. Buck the power system and your blacklisted for life, refuse to marry, your blacklisted for life, refuse to give this little town children to corrupt, your blacklisted for life. I will not dignify them with he term “Gay” closet queers and drug dealers, some of the drug dealers are local law enforcement prosper. Come out of the closet you’re blacklisted for life. Suck ass up to the Morrilton power wheel you do fine, all old decaying buildings on main street according to their owners should be declared historical monuments, when in fact they should be bull dozed to the ground. Non Compensated "Gay" Vietnam Veteran.
Morrilton is a dirty stinking living death cesspool town my daddy drove us off into in the 1950s and for some reason none of us ever managed to gain enough strength to crawl out of it and leave Morrilton permanently. My favorite city is New Orleans, I sure as hell never wanted to be in Morrilton, never wanted to be a part of it but I've literally had this miserable town force fed and rammed down my throat my whole life. Morrilton is a city that should have never even been allowed onto the drawing board, let alone off of it.
How could such a small town nestled in the heart of The Arkansas River Valley with a beautiful State Park not more than six miles south hide so many multitudes of evil? What is the Morrilton curse, I've been trying to figure that one since we moved here in the mid 1950s. All through the Faubus years, all through Fulbright years, all through the Hawkins and his bunch years. The players may change however the rules always stay the same, only these days the rules simply went underground, the more things change the more they stay the same. One would expect this type in larger towns like Little Rock, Ft. Smith, New Orleans, Atlanta even Russellville or Conway, but Morrilton is a very, very small town of no more than a little over six thousand people. There are two things literally required by everyone in order to survive Air And Water. The water can be poisoned by those who run the local water company, the air poisoned by the government, more precisely the military in Little Rock through aerial dispersion. Ground water can also be poisoned by industry, more precisely The Paper Mill six miles south of Morrilton. Morrilton also has a closet queer, actually Morrilton has a whole lot of closet queers, its just that none of them dares admit it.
I'll state upfront, I come from a dysfunctional family and have a border line IQ, when it comes to math you may as well be reading or trying to teach Greek or Latin to me. So when Vietnam came McNamara wanted soldiers, and whatever Robert S McNamara wanted McNamara got.
I feel as if someone brought a curse down on me in the late 70s early 80s, now irrespective of whether it was God, Christ, the Devil, A demon, or a two-legged flesh and blood person the result has been the same. Ash, sabotage, poverty and Failure all the way through. It started up shortly following military service and, got a thousand times worse following the death of my dad in 78. I've seen people I know commit suicide because of the hate this town showed them and the kind of fear they experienced. One drank himself to death, two others blew their brains out. The really rotten part about it, I don't even have the resources to find out who it is. There is something in operation here that literally should never have been allowed. My mom before she passed away, called it an evil old will and she called it right.
Nor in Morrilton, is there any hope here and I'm tired of trying to find it even if there were. The law of average says this should have ended ages ago. It should have ended in New Orleans but the evil in Morrilton reached out, stuck its nose in, and messed everything up and now all of the time is gone.and I won't be around much longer. For some, they may get better, but some, things aren't allowed to get better. This is why a book was important to me, I can write all these things down to a stranger, but I simply don't have the experience to put them down in a book. And you can't make it better in Morrilton when there is simply to much evil working against me. I need the feedback of another person, and there are none. but thanks for the advice.
One very early morning just before daybreak, someone or something slammed the screen door three times, I was reading at the time and Sweetie Pie jumped up and started barking like crazy. The only feeling I could identify about seeing who or what was at the door, was hesitation and reluctance, nor did they stop after slabbing the screen door three times. They continued to turn the door knob until daybreak, this was before my dad passed away in 1978.
The Military Curse:
One day in mid 1967 I got a letter from The White House, started up with "Greetings from the President, you are hereby ordered to report" and that was the date when all of the real hell started up and I became the property of The United States, and I'll carry that hell until I'm dead. The you say, forget em, most of them are criminals. white supremacists or connections to them and Neanderthal Buffoons and you called us, we didn't call you. All you have to do is look around at all of the veterans living on the streets, tent cities, sleeping under bridges and begging for money on the streets to know that.
We left Little Rock for Ft. Polk in 1967 on a DC 3, my legs were shaking so bad, I couldn't even control them and when we lifted off they stopped shaking and I set my mind to two years of a mostly living hell. Two years that would leave a lifetime of traumas the VA doesn't even acknowledge let alone compensate me for for. The ones I hated the most in the military were those God Damned weekend warriors. Six months active duty and its back home to mama, while the rest of us were being shipped off to Vietnam to be injured, maimed or blown to bits. In retrospect, I'm damned glad the fucking weekend warriors are the ones being shipped off to the conflicts over sea's now.
We had a fucking Weekend warrior for a squad leader in AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at Ft. Rucker, a real asshole arrogant bastard with a Donald Trump.attitude. Wasn't even qualified to lead a pack of dogs and cats let alone a company of men.
