Today I Did a Little Time Travel

Today, I traveled back to 1912, indulging in the therapeutic baths in Hot Springs, Arkansas.  

To get a picture of life in 1912 think of the movie Titanic.  It was in April of that year that the doomed ship sailed and the movie offers a good look at the lives, dress and manners of both the well-heeled in a pre-income tax world and the working class who put together enough money for the voyage if not the luxury.  These were the days leading up to the Roaring Twenties when disposable income was available, people were optimistic and the banks had not yet failed.  The suffragette movement was in full gear.

            This was also the time before antibiotics when warm, natural springs were considered curative.   The hot springs of Arkansas have been considered to be medicinal by every group, native and European, who have visited the area.  The water, which takes 4,400 years to percolate through the cherty rocks of the surrounding hills, gathers heat from the earth while it purifies itself into drinking and bathing water that is sweet, delicious and, above all, hot!

            Through one iteration after another, responding to fire, flood and progress, Hot Springs has built itself around the baths and the people who were attracted to the “spa” experience which also included attractive accommodations, food and entertainment.  At one time, Hot Springs was a wide-open town.  

            There are now five preserved and restored bathhouses on the famous Bathhouse Row.  Of these, only one still operates as the public bathhouses of old—the Buckstaff.  It has been in continuous operation since 1912 and precious little has changed.  The tubs are huge.  Tom said he could stretch out full length in his.  The floors and walls are white tiles, trimmed in blue and hosed down to continuous cleanliness.  All you have to do is show up at the Buckstaff, pick out what kind of bath you want and pay a ridiculously low rate for a day of time travel. 

Tom and I both choose the deluxe package for $79/person and then had to part company.  Bathing is done in the nude and 1912 was even more sexually segregated than 2016.  We would meet up again 2 hours later.  During those two hours I was repeatedly wrapped in and whisked out of one long sheet after another.  No less than 4 sheets and twice as many towels were soaked and discarded as I went from one staging area to another.  

First stop was a huge tub of 104-degree water.  My arms, legs and back were scrubbed with a luffa and I was then reclined on a back board for a 20-minute soak.  Cool spring water was brought for my continual hydration.  There followed a hot towel wrap—a steam cabinet—a sitz bath—and finally a shower that washed you from all four sides with three nozzles on each corner.  Clean as a whistle, limp as a rag and happy as a clam, I was then sent to the cooling room for my Swedish Massage.  Six hours later I am still totally relaxed. 

During this whole experience I kept thinking of all of the women who would have puttered up and down these tile halls, smiling at friends, chatting about “taking the baths” and wondering if Al Capone would show up at The Arlington Hotel (his favorite) for dinner that night.  These women thought their world was relatively fixed.  Progress was the norm, stability a given, and their lives a predictable arc. 

Given the chance for time travel it is good to treat history as a cautionary tale. 

Soak it up and keep the faith.