Sunday, April 27, 2014
Pine Buff, Arkansas

The overused, trite, hackneyed term “defies description” has found a home in miniscule McNeely, Louisiana, which sits astride Louisiana State Highway 8, southeast of Colfax.  (Hint: both of these are about 20 miles or so west of Alexandria, Louisiana.)

As I approached McNeely, I noticed flashing “blues” on either side of the highway.  I approached with trepidation, only to discover that an unmanned sheriff’s vehicle had been parked on either side of the highway to mark the entrance to a massive four-wheeler mud-riding event, the name of which escapes me.  But that was pedestrian in view of what lay ahead.

It's Just the Beginning.

Here’s a look at the entire mobile home you saw above, complete with an apparently inoperative Pontiac Catalina 400 and an apparently operative late-model Cadillac Escalade.  Close inspection leads one to believe that the rooster panels along the roofline are all hand-rendered because none are exactly the same.  But wait, there’s more.  This is the first of three (or three and a-half) trailers similarly decorated, which appear to be part and parcel of an articulated complex.

Saints or Angels:  You Decide.

Next to the rooster palace is a mobile home dedicated to Saints and/or Angels, whichever, I suppose, strikes your fancy.  In front of the angel and/or saint edifice, there is a collection of cast cement statues, which are apparently for sale but may have some meaning in the overall spiritual plan.  There is also a hand-lettered sign warning visitors that if they set foot on the property, they do so at their own risk.  There are also some plastic “mudbugs” and other devices that look like a storm warning siren.  I presume they are decorative in nature and have no deeper ecclesiastical undertones.

3 Crosses, 1 Dog and a Free Sunday Dinner

Between the Saints and/or Angels and the next edifice are three crosses, a couple of signs, and more statuary.  The cross-bar for the right-hand thief has slipped a few notches.  There are some colorful, giant, bishop-hat-looking doo-dads and a concrete critter with the body of a dog and a face that only George Lucas could love.  Just to be sure, the proprietors have strategically placed a sign bearing the word DOG in front of the suspect cement creature.  Next to the concrete canine is a sign advising passersby of the availability of free Sunday dinners, every Sunday.  To the right of that are a couple of vine-entwined totem pole thingies.

Time to Pray!

Next after Saints and/or Angels trailer, crosses and other appurtenances is the last visible mobile home.  This one bears imagery that appears to be the “Devil stealing the child.”  Next to that is a sign advising all that prayer is the key to success and another sign inviting all to come on in and have a word of prayer.  Perhaps the suggested supplications are for the child in the clutches of the devil.

Get Thee Hence!

The devil is in the details.  A close look at the bad-guy art.

Jump Up!  God is Good.

As we depart the property, the symbols and signs continue.  One circular sign advises us that if we change our ways we can be happy the rest of our lives.  The next tells of a free meal for the homeless every Sunday.  And finally, emblazoned on something that one surmises is supposed to be a trailer, are the words “God is Good.”  In front of those words is a trampoline.

All Aboard!

The ersatz trailer and trampoline deserve one final glance.  Perhaps it is a work in progress.  Perhaps is a latter day Ark and the trampoline is to help latecomers to get aboard.  Go figure.

This is one of those sightings that does not necessarily deserve a special trip to see, but is worth the look if you happen to be there.  Consider this feature as a reader service.  Now, you can say you have “nearly” seen it all, without having departed your comfort space — or spending a red-cent on gas.