We live within a four hour drive of Ft. Smith, Arkansas, a town I have always found interesting because of its very unique history as it relates to Oklahoma Territory, the State of Oklahoma and the American West. I have always been interested in the American West, reveling in its brief history and mythology. And no state has a more interesting history than does State of Oklahoma.
During its earlier days, prior to statehood, Oklahoma was designated as Indian Territory. Sometime after the Civil War, it was divided into two parts, the Eastern half was Indian Territory and the Western half was Oklahoma Territory. Indian Tribes from all over the country were relocated into the Territory. It was a difficult and shameless solution of what the dominant society in the United States called the “Indian problem.”
Indian Territory was a lawless area. There were always jurisdictional problems when it came to this vast amount of land which was set aside for the Indians, especially since the Indian tribes were being treated as a sovereign nation. Various tribes had their own police force, such as it was, but they were limited in dealing with the Indians themselves. Much of the crime taking place in the Territory was by white outlaws who were there sometimes to escape the authorities in the states surrounding the Territory. They found a safe haven in the Territory because law officials had no authority to enter it for any purpose and the tribal authorities had little jurisdiction over the intruders. The Territory was a large area, only slightly populated, with plenty of hiding places. And, while there they could prey on the Indians, thus making them once more victims, this time in their new homeland because their former homeland had been forcibly taken from them by the actions of the Federal and State governments. This had resulted in their removal to and relocation in the Territory in a movement known as the Trail of Tears.
Judge Isaac Parker was sent to Fort Smith, Arkansas, in 1875 to serve as the presiding judge over the federal court in that city. His jurisdiction included Indian Territory which then still covered what is present-day Oklahoma. Over a history of 21 years on the court, he tried thousands of cases and sentenced many men to be hanged. The court was in shambles when he took over and he readily sent word to the public that with his ascendency to the bench nothing short of law and order would ever be tolerated. He raised a small army of U.S. Marshals who were dispatched to the Territory with proper jurisdiction to reign in on the lawlessness. These marshals were a match for the outlaws they were sent to corral and they made a steady trek into the courtroom with their prisoners, the prisoners were given a fair trial and many of those who were convicted were sentenced to death. Those so sentenced were usually hanged outside the courthouse there in Fort Smith. Outlaws were hanged in such large numbers that Isaac Parker became known to this day as the “Hanging Judge.”
Today, Fort Smith is a small city in Arkansas which boasts a rich history. It is built on the Arkansas River and has always been capable of supporting river traffic down the Arkansas to the Mississippi to New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico. It is a prosperous little city which is a pleasure to visit. It is always good to visit the courthouse, Judge Parker’s gallows, the jail and all the other remnants and relics of the late 1800’s.
More often today we go there for the dining experience of Catfish Cove, a seafood restaurant. On Tuesdays they have a special—all the crab legs you can eat. The cost is a little pricey, but the food is excellent. They fly in sufficient numbers to feed hundreds of people on that one night. As you sit there eating, they keep coming by asking if you want more crab legs. And you say “yes” and continue eating, throwing the shells in a bucket on the table. It isn’t just crab legs, it is everything else on the entire menu. Vegetables you remember from your childhood, fried okra, potatoes prepared two or three different ways, casseroles, brown beans, green beans, fried yellow squash, soups and God knows what else. A vegetarian could go there and be in heaven. Of course, there is the obligatory salad, although I seldom see anyone spending a lot of time at that bar.
There is a selection of meats to rival any place. There are fried fish, frog legs, ribs and, again, more stuff than I can recall. They fry hushpuppies to go with the fish. Notice the common factor in most of this is that it is fried. Fried food isn’t good for you, but it tastes good.
All of this is served on a buffet and you are encouraged to go back again and again until you have enough. They don’t want you to leave hungry and I cannot imagine that anyone ever has.
After you are through with the main course, there is a desert table loaded once again with stuff you remember from your childhood, two or three kinds of cobbler, cakes, homemade cinnamon rolls and one of the heaviest and richest chocolate cakes you could ever imagine. As if that isn’t enough, while you are eating dessert and having coffee to finish the evening, waiters and waitresses come around with buckets of ice cream offering you some to go along with your other dessert.
About once a year my brother-in-law will call from Sallisaw, Oklahoma, asking if we are ready for crab legs. I’ll think about it and tell him I will check the timing with my wife. If we can go, we will. I call it premeditated gluttony. We know to get there by 4:00 o’clock in the afternoon as they open the doors thirty minutes later. Inexperienced eaters don’t understand that the line gets pretty long if you aren’t there that early and there have been occasions when they have run out of crab legs.
Anyone who knows me would not believe that I use a little restraint when visiting the Catfish Cove. If I overeat, I pay for it dearly. Too much fried foods have an adverse effect on me. If I visit the dessert bar it can hurt me. I recall once returning to Sallisaw and having to lie down in the fetal position until the chest pains went away. It took about three or four hours.
What happens to me, especially when I pig-out on desserts, is that it jacks my blood sugar up which in turn jacks up my blood pressure. This in turn causes chest pains. I have been hospitalized with this condition. (Sometimes it happens when I haven’t been eating anything at all.) It has happened enough that I know what is going on. The blood sugar is stroke level and the blood pressure is heart attack level. And the pain originating in my chest and radiating to my back and arms, shoulders and legs and feet, is more than I I can sometimes stand. It has happened often enough that I seem to know how to control it. Aspirin, nitroglycerin and bed rest seems to do the trick every time, at least it has so far. The last time I went to the hospital for it, they prescribed aspirin, nitroglycerin and bed rest.
Do I still go to the Catfish Cove? Yes, but not often. I don’t think we went last year and I probably won’t be able to work it in this year either. When I do go I try to use a little restraint and don’t overeat. I avoid the dessert bar and refuse the ice cream. I like it all, but I recall my sister’s advice, “You have to ask yourself the question, ‘Is it so good you’re willing to die eating it?’” I have to admit there’s nothing I want that much.
What does Catfish Cove and all-you-can-eat crab legs have to do with Judge Isaac Parker, the Hanging Judge? Probably nothing except that they were both in Fort Smith, Arkansas, one of my favorite towns.
