A Quiet Drive to Princeton, Arkansas: A Sleeping Town and the Stories It Holds

We went on a little road trip today - destination: Princeton, Arkansas. On the surface, it’s barely more than a crossroads now. Officially designated a census-recognized community in 2020, its population clocks in at just 13 residents.

But stepping into Princeton feels like stepping into a pause - like the town itself is half-asleep, waiting for someone to come along and wake it up.

There’s a tiny store with gas pumps, a church, a park, and a handful of scattered houses. And tucked into the forest edge nearby is Princeton Cemetery, a historic site listed on the National Register, where many rest under moss-covered stones. Most known and still honored, some unknown and welcomed home all the same.

Once upon a time, Princeton (Dallastown) was not this quiet. In the mid-1800s, it was a thriving community - the first county seat of Dallas County - with its own courthouse, post office, and even doctors and a dentist.

Now? It feels like something out of a dream. A place that rests quietly on the edge of memory, where each abandoned street and weathered building reels like it might come back to life if you look long enough, for a near ghost town it still feels very much alive to stand inside of.. like an energy that has never left. What stories lived here?

Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to it.

There’s something poetic about a town that once was - and a great setting in its own right for stories that blur the lines between memory and mystery. - I think I have a book idea for this place after all.

From Princeton to the Ozarks: Shadows of the Ozark Howler

In my book Shadows of the Ozark Howler, the main character leaves Princeton chasing stories of a beast - a legend that is caught between reality and folklore.

Linking a place like Princeton - where the echoes of history still linger - with a mythic journey toward the unknown felt natural while writing. In Shadows of the Ozark Howler, that small-town stillness becomes the starting point for a much larger search: not just for a beast, but for understanding the shadows we chase within ourselves.

Why Small Towns Like This Captivate Us

There’s a quiet magic in towns like Princeton - not because they’re bustling or famous (anymore), but because they carry stories in their silence.

They remind us of places that were once full of ambition and hope, of people who lived, worked, laughed, and worried there. They remind us that every landscape holds memories, and sometimes the quietest roads lead to the deepest stories.

Maybe that’s why I keep going back. I think of the hope, the growth, the unknown soldiers resting there and the decline to what it is today.. Princeton's lifecycle if you will.

yours,

April