Pastime: Rolling at the Lumberjack Roller Rink

This is a Pastime of dizzying speeds and horrendous falls on the polished hardwood floors of the old Lumberjack Roller Rink.

It was a skating palace that drew roller skaters from all over the Southeast Arkansas area.

And what a crowd could be found out there on the old Fordyce Highway on a Friday or Saturday nights in November and all throughout the winter months.

The rink also operated some during the spring and summer months, but had some type of “unspoken agreement” to be closed during football season – August – October each year with the rink doors flung back open once the Lumberjacks grid season had concluded.

I did see, one cold evening a kid from Banks broke his arm on the unforgiving floor, the ambulance came out and carried him to Bradley County Medical Center, where I am sure Dr. James W. Marsh or one of the other five local physicians “set” the arm for his youngster.

From this vintage photo, accompanying these meager words, I can still see the building on the right side of the highway, just before one would get to Caraway’s Fried Chicken and Garage, along the Fordyce highway.

The stark white painted, wooden building had a double door front entrance with a lone crooked neck lamp above the door providing illumination to the goings on inside the building each evening.

There were two or three steps up off the graveled parking lot to get into the front door. There was a cramped sale, counter, soda pop vending box, just off to the right inside the door.

There was a massive number of used rental skates – only a few owned their own roller skates – so we rented the skates for the two-hour sessions each night.

The smell of leather, antiseptic shoe spray and sweat hung low in the building.

Skating times, I recall, were six to 8 p.m., and then an 8-10 p.m. session for older high school, college age kids and some adults.

It closed promptly at 10 p.m. each evening.

When I was skating, Maurry Watkins, the math teacher at Warren High School, oversaw a tiny contingent of local kids assisting in the renting of skates, limited concession stands traffic and the playing of music for background.

Back in the day that consisted of a combo of several 45 rpm records, and the newest stereo hook-up of 8-track tapes.

You could sure boogie down, if you could skate.

The music was there. The locals and out of town guys and gals from such far-flung territories at Herbine, Fordyce, Hampton, Hermitage, Harrell, Monticello and even down into the delta with folks from Winchester, McGehee, Dermott and occasionally a car load from Lake Village would appear.

Mostly it was eight- to 10-year-olds in the first session and then the 12-16- and 17-to- 25-year-old locals in the second session.

The rule was an eight-year-old could skate both sessions, if they paid to do so, but no complaining or crying when the older kids knocked you down if you got in the way of their supersonic darting around the oblong hardwood floor.

The floor itself was quite a show. A rich honey blonde hardwood pattern – smooth as silk and so slick that the novice had a hard time remaining upright and rolling until you had mastered the fine art of roller skating.

There were massive racks of skates to rent from all sizes. There were high topped white skates for the kiddie sizes that took forever to lace up and get you going.  There were smaller ankle high black skates for the older youths – so cool looking – but would turn an ankle in a heartbeat.

There were also several other pairs of skates for the females of the older crown – I recall two or three pairs of bright red, ankle high skates and one fantastic high (thigh high) pair of skates which were royal blue and a larger pair which were Lumberjack orange for the gals.

Once the skates had been selected, laced up and ready to roll, the extra loud music began and someone – usually Mr. Watkins would fire up the fixed base microphone and Public Address system.

“All skate. All skate. Novices stay to the right along the wall.”

Somebody on my first cloud of time touring the floor at the speed of a road terrapin defined “novice” for me.

“Hey slow kid, that is you. He said “novices: stay right along the wall.”

And so, it went.

After a time or two the skating got better, the old legs seemed to finally get in sync with the beat of the music and the flow of the traffic all going around in a counterclockwise flow.

A couple of mass skating sessions would slow. And out came the “couple skate,” songs.

Here if you had mastered standing up right alone, you might try skating with the girls.  Most of us tried, but usually after a fall or two, getting skates and legs tangled, that couples dance was done.

But oh, there were some couples who would dance around the floor at blistering speeds, others skating so close and so intimate that well, a little public display of affection, made the eight-year-old boys and girls watching just giggle.

I do recall not every Saturday night, but every once in a white, some older adult men from the city would come out – strap on a pair of skates and simply whizz around the floor. One evening a dad of some of my contemporaries came out and after a showing of speed around the rink, he tried to teach several of us to skate backwards – a feat I was never able to accomplish.

On a cold, clear wintery night I can still hear (and feel) the thunder of the roller skates at the Lumberjack Skating Rink.

And often too, I can still feel all the bumps, bruises of the trips and falls on that magnificent hardwood floor, a Pastime well worth remembering.