“The greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” — Roald Dahl

What do Cassville, Shangri-La, El Dorado, and Atlantis all have in common? 

They are places defined entirely by the secrets they keep. While the latter three are born of myth and gold, the first breathes real air. Yet, all of them exist just out of reach of the public eye. They are sanctuaries where the glories of the location dissolve from the public’s compass.

When I first came to town to teach at Crowder, no one explained what drew you all here and kept you here. The long lineage of families was more than a coincidence of time and circumstance. The physical beauty to me, as obvious as it was, gave me not a clue as to its future worth. And, when I began to meet people in the public square, no one pulled me off to the side and whispered to me the riches that are Barry County. 

Rolling meadows, fascinating topography, a river that is aptly named for its magnificence, and how the sun cascades down on the land in a way that would make a landscape painter exclaim its charms.

It took me a while to understand what Cassville is — a place where people still care, a genuine civic interest that protects as much as nurtures, a culture that is as patriotic as it is compassionate to the fellow citizen, regardless of economic hierarchy. 

Yep, I had to discover your secret by myself. It did not require a secret handshake or a hidden door leading to a club meeting, I simply had to discover on my own what you have been hiding in plain sight. Thank you very much for being patient with me.

The realization, once it finally moved from my brain and became embedded in my heart, was surprising — awe-inspiring even. No, no, even though I am a writer and English professor, I choose those words carefully with no hyperbole intended. What happens when the secret gets out?

For decades, Barry County has enjoyed a degree of insulation from the rapid growth experienced elsewhere. We have watched larger communities expand while our own population remained relatively stable. Stability can be comforting. It creates the illusion that tomorrow will look much like today.

Yet all around us, the map is changing.

To the north, Springfield continues to grow and expand outward. Communities such as Nixa, Ozark, Rogersville, and Republic have experienced significant population increases as development pushes farther into southwest Missouri. To the south, Northwest Arkansas continues its remarkable transformation into one of the nation’s fastest-growing economic regions. Bentonville, Rogers, Springdale, and Fayetteville are no longer isolated communities; they form a regional powerhouse whose influence extends well beyond state lines. 

Even quiet, out-of-the-way towns like Pea Ridge (only 20 minutes away) are experiencing unprecedented growth. 

Surprise! Now they are struggling to establish a Master Plan, a day late and a dollar short. It is no longer population creep; it is a full-blown explosion of people moving into one of the most desired regions in the United States. Have you tried driving on Arkansas Highway 72 outside Pea Ridge during Monday to Friday drive time? Yikes!

Barry County sits between these two expanding spheres. For years, that geography has been an advantage. Increasingly, it will become a catalyst. Growth rarely announces itself with a trumpet. It arrives quietly, slowly, then boom — all at once. 

Initially, a new housing development appears. Yay! Then, another. Traffic becomes a bit confounding. Property values begin to rise. Those visitors to Roaring River decide to stay. Then corporate workers discover the treasure of the natural landscape and move in. 

Investors appear like a rapidly moving storm, and there it is, in your midst, a population explosion. Population forecasters are like meteorologists; sometimes they are right, and sometimes they are way wrong.

Understand, please, growth is not the enemy. New families can strengthen schools. New businesses can create opportunities. Economic development can improve the quality of life and expand the tax base that supports public services. Most of us would welcome thoughtful investment and renewed vitality (Crowder is ready for that growth).

The challenge is not growth itself. The challenge is growth without preparation. This is where the work of our civil servants and politicians becomes vital. Their long-term vision for Barry County is one we all need to share in and work towards. Fortunately, we have a wonderful cadre of leaders. But what about you, dear Cassvillian? 

Are you ready for the next chapter that is certain to unfold here in Barry County? Perhaps the most important question of all is this: What do we want Barry County to look like for our grandchildren?

Those conversations are not signs of pessimism. They are signs of stewardship. Cassville and all of Barry County are a wonderful place to live, to raise a family, to enjoy all that life has to offer. Our culture of helping one another, in my opinion, is superb — not what I have experienced in other places I have lived. If the citizenry of our wonderful county, the local citizens, elected officials, business leaders, educators, and community organizations engage these questions now, we have the opportunity to guide our future intentionally. 

If we wait until growth is obvious to everyone, many of the most important decisions may already have been made.

The future of Barry County should not be determined by accident. Nor should it be determined by the fate of circumstance. The remarkable thing is that we are not starting from scratch. We already possess the ingredients that make communities thrive: natural beauty, strong institutions, civic pride, resilient people and a genuine sense of place. 

Those attributes are becoming increasingly valuable. Perhaps that is the secret, or part of it.

For years, we have viewed Barry County as a quiet corner of Missouri, comfortably distant from the pressures transforming other regions. Yet, what if our greatest challenge over the next 20 years is not decline, but growth? What if the best-kept secret in Southwest Missouri is reaching the point where it is no longer hidden? 

Maybe we should talk a little more often about growth and what we want it to look like, but until then…

Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.

Terry Held is an English instructor at Crowder College, Cassville. The views expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of Crowder College. He would appreciate hearing what you think. He can be reached at [email protected].