What a difference one week makes. This time last week, people around Arkansas were abuzz with Rex Nelson’s blog “The Shame of Hot Springs,” a lengthy article that began by discussing the shuttering of the Majestic in downtown Hot Springs.

Then came Thursday. All Things Arkansas had a few last-minute customers, and around 5:30, I began hearing sirens. While emergency personnel use Central Avenue almost every day, it was quickly obvious this was different. Siren after siren blared past the store. Fire truck after fire truck, all heading north.

I live north. Perhaps a more reasonable person would have immediately taken an alternative route home. Not me. I called my husband as I was leaving and began chattering that something was going on but that I didn’t know where. Once I passed the Arlington and there was a break in the skyline, I began to see smoke. Lots and lots of smoke. I still had no idea where the fire was, but I knew it was nearby.

As I sat in the traffic, more emergency personnel were trying to make their way to the scene. Downtown Hot Springs has two lanes of traffic each direction, with very little wiggle room (my grandmother won’t drive downtown because of how narrow the roads are), and intermittent medians for street lights and foliage. Because traffic was backed up, the police cars and fire trucks moved directly into ongoing traffic and headed toward the fire. I still did not know what was burning, but the severity was quickly becoming obvious.

A few minutes later I rounded the last corner and there it was. The Majestic. Up in flames. I hung up the phone and snapped a few photos. We were turned around on Whittington.

The shame of Hot Springs had become the flame of Hot Springs. We can allow that flame to burn and destroy, or we can choose to stand together to let it light a flame in each of us as we band together to revitalize Hot Springs.

It appears we want more. Words on Facebook may not mean much, but today’s Downtown Association of Hot Springs monthly meeting had more people in attendance than I’ve ever seen. Interestingly, the Association has already been meeting about a strategic plan, revitalization, and partnerships. The people were in the room today, ready to fan the flames of change.

Join us, won’t you? Be part of the new flame … a flame which will rebuild where needed, a flame which will dream new dreams where needed, a flame that will seek the greater good for our community, a flame that will stir the passions of people throughout this region and world. Let’s do this.

Nearly a year ago, Rex Nelson wrote an editorial in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette about revitalizing downtown Hot Springs. The link is here (subscription required): http://www.arkansasonline.com/news/2013/mar/20/my-spa-city-dream-20130320/. I read it and re-read it. I forwarded it to my father, Ron Coleman of Ron Coleman Mining, and to a few others. It would not let me go.

Having been born and raised in Jessieville just north of Hot Springs, the daughter of an entrepreneur who taught me to believe in myself and to believe in our hometown, the words resonated. I remembered visiting the artist Benini in the 1980s. He, too, had wanted to revitalize downtown Hot Springs. He and his wife Lorraine envisioned an arts community in the midst of the thermal water. They dreamed of a community that would thrive and flourish, even as they added a home to the second floor along Central Avenue. Benini said of the property, “It’s need-deep in pigeon shit,” but he could see the beauty below … even when others could not.

He introduced me to the beauty.

And when Nelson wrote that article last year, I recalled the beauty amidst the pigeon droppings. I wanted the vision to return and to be a part of it. Within weeks, I had begun the process of leaving a 13+-year career with a nice paycheck and great benefits. I had secured a location downtown (610-C Central, if you’d like to visit) and begun creating a business plan highlighting All Things Arkansas. If it was from, made in, or related to the state, there was a good chance it would be at this new store in downtown Hot Springs.

Benini’s dream and Nelson’s dream had become my dream.

We opened our doors six months ago and I have been honored to meet people around the world. It’s true, though: They want more. They want the dream, and it’s time we do whatever it takes to make our Hot Springs the Hot Springs we know it can be.

Rex Nelson is still talking downtown Hot Springs. He wrote this blog less than a week ago: http://www.rexnelsonsouthernfried.com/?p=560. Comments on how to move the downtown FORWARD are rampant on Facebook.

It may seem to be a small thing, but the City of Hot Springs is in the process of removing most parking meters in the downtown area.  For people who live in and around Hot Springs, that means you can pop in and out of these privately owned businesses -- many of which have unique items not found elsewhere -- without the hassle of scrounging up whatever change you can find just so you can shop downtown.

Come on down and visit us. Each of us. See for yourselves what the strengths of Hot Springs are. See for yourselves what the weaknesses are. Let us know what your vision is; let us know how we can make Hot Springs the place of our dreams. Let us know. We are listening, and we are positioning ourselves to act.

Today is President’s Day. Here at All Things Arkansas, it is the perfect day to think about President Bill Clinton. Most of us remember the catchphrase, “I still believe in a place called Hope,” and I look daily at the billboard across the street at Hill Wheatley plaza that says “Welcome to Hot Springs: Hometown of Bill Clinton.”

At the store we have three books by Bill Clinton:

1. My Life
   
   
2. Giving: How Each of Us Can Change the World
   
   
3. Back to Work: Why We Need Smart Government for a Strong Economy
   
   

Today, though, I would like to quickly share a few memories of the man before he became larger than life.

When I was in elementary school, then-Governor Bill Clinton visited Jessieville School. It was a big deal. The GOVERNOR was visiting our teeny tiny school. For lunch, the teacher’s tables were carefully arranged to provide him a place of honor. Yet, when lunchtime arrived, Bill Clinton grabbed his tray and joined the kids at their tables. I don’t remember what was discussed or what we ate, but it was my first glimpse of someone who knew how to reach the masses (even if we couldn’t vote!).

Moving forward into high school, I was preparing to join People to People on an American-Soviet Youth Exchange. Around the same time, I also had been voted in as State Land Commissioner at Arkansas’ Girls State. (Before you think I’m tooting my own horn, let me clearly add the I was the ONLY state officer not nominated for Girls’ Nation. Something about not taking the race seriously enough. …) When Governor Clinton joined us for the inaugural ceremony, I asked if he could give us anything for the upcoming trip to the Soviet Union. Within days, our entire delegation had been designated as Official Ambassadors of Goodwill. Again, he had taken time to listen and respond.

And then we move into college. Arkansas’ Bill Clinton played his saxophone and played his way into the hearts of enough voters that he was elected President of the United States. The next thing you know, my father, Ron Coleman, was preparing small high-quality quartz clusters on a base of novaculite for a luncheon at the Senate Press Gallery in Washington DC. To ensure everyone knew the Arkansas connection to both stones, a request had been made for a small pamphlet to be included in the packet. My father called his journalism-inclined daughter, and I was honored to write the piece. Beyond that, the family received an invitation to attend the inaugural events, and one of my girlfriends and I gleefully went. Thanks to our excitement amidst seasoned journalists from around the world, we were pulled out of the line and received press passes to EVERY event available. No more passes to the Arkansas Ball were available, however, so we attended the Tennessee Ball instead. When President Clinton appeared, he looked directly at me, cocked his head to the side, and waved. He wasn’t sure who I was or why I was at the Tennessee Ball, but he knew he recognized me.

Whether one agrees or disagrees with his policies and/or his life choices, one would be hard-pressed to deny his charisma or his intelligence. Each time I met him, he left an indelible impression. Had he never become president, I would still remember the governor who chose to sit amongst the kids with his lunch tray.

Arkansas' state mineral is quartz crystal. It is a naturally occurring six-sided crystalline structure comprised of silicon dioxide.

One of the most common questions people ask about crystal is if it has been polished. The Arkansas quartz at All Things Arkansas most definitely has NOT been polished. God made it just like you see it.

Our quartz is from the Old Coleman Mine in Jessieville, Arkansas, and is the world standard for quartz. The Old Coleman Mine is located in the Ouachita Mountains and the best quartz around the world is going to be from there.

To anyone looking at the mine from afar, it looks like an open pit mine with red clay mud.  Tourists are allowed to mine for the own quartz in specially designated areas at the top of the mine. They are digging through the tailings, parts of the dirt that have been brought to the surface by employees and not gone through.

Many people tend to doubt that the tailings have not been searched. Trust me, they haven't. Crystals are primarily located in "pockets" and it simply is not cost effective for large-scale operations to mine outside those areas. Instead, they move the dirt to the top so you can find your own treasures.

To find the "pockets," one follows the trail of the veins until it circles out. Veins are similar to what you think of in your body, except in this case its a long white line amidst the red clay.

When it circles out to the large pocket, employees pull out crystals one at a time. They may even use old bed mattresses to protect the crystal points.

From there they are brought to the cleaning area and rinsed off and allowed to air dry. There is a lot of red clay staining the piece at this point, so they are then cleaned in a hot vat of oxalic acid overnight.

The next day they are removed and rinsed with water once more. Once this is done, most of the red clay residue is gone and the beauty of the quartz has been exposed.

The crystals are now ready to be sold to customers around the world. Prices range from $1 to several million.