It’s officially swimming season and of course that makes me think of river/lake monsters. Whether you’re planning to do some water aerobics or lounge by a lake, I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that Arkansas has it’s very own river monster, and you should totally go visit him instead. You just have to head on up to the White River near Newport. It’s about 84 miles northeast of Little Rock and, in addition to being the birthplace of Mary Steenburgen, it’s the swimming grounds of Whitey, the White River Monster.
Whitey is ironically a large grey guy that looks kind of like an enormous manatee, and he’s not a monster at all. He keeps a low profile because numerous people have tried to kill him in a variety of ways over the years. He remains unbothered, though, and just swims off instead of crushing them with his mighty tail, which begs the question: Who’s the real monster here? The adorable giant manatee, or the bloodthirsty lunatics trying to do him in?
It all started back in 1915. An area man was taking a break and gazing at the river when who should appear but our friendly neighborhood river dweller! He was the first person to see Whitey and immediately flip his lid. The guy described Whitey as being as wide as a car and at least three cars long. He was so gobsmacked that he ran into town hollering about how they had to kill the beast. He somehow got the town to crowd-fund and help construct a giant rope net to capture Whitey but, before long, they ran out of money, and everyone lost interest.
Then, in 1937, a group of local fishermen were baffled as to why they couldn’t seem to catch any trout. Rather than reevaluate their career choices, they whined about it to anyone who would listen. So, several interested parties went down to the river to investigate. There was Whitey just splish-splashing around having a good old time. The men displayed a stupefying lack of calm and ran into town screaming about fish-on-fish violence and how they had to kill the beast. See, these guys were convinced that they had to blow up Whitey with TNT because they felt that Whitey was threatening their crops and profits. How, though? Did Whitey have a rival farm? Did he put on a straw hat, and go around selling his produce at half price just to put these fish-blamers out of business? It makes no sense.
I guess you had to have a permit to blow up a river monster with dynamite back then and, happily, their application was denied on the account of it was insane, The word of Whitey got around, and people from all over came to see him. Some brought cameras and some brought machine guns, but they all wanted to capture our squishy fishy friend. Over 100 people saw him before he bounced on out of there.
Whitey didn’t show up again until 1971, and he was pleased indeed to find that there were no fish haters lying in wait. There were hippies, though, and they loved Whitey. They thought he was totally groovy, and they fought to protect him. In fact, in 1973 the Arkansas State Legislature signed a bill into law creating the White River Refuge and making it illegal to harm Whitey as long as he was in the refuge.
So, come on down to Newport, honor Mrs. Steenburgen, and then go see Whitey. Just make sure you leave your TNT and machine guns at home. This summer is about swimming and ice-cold drinks, not hassling our friend with fins.
By Sarah Holland