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Slashing south and west through Arkansas, I saw a sign for Hope and decided to pay a visit to the birthplace of our 42nd president. I slipped into town on a side road and was struck by the lack of presidential welcome. There were signs for bingo and karaoke and tattoos. But nothing for Bubba.

Dusk gave way to night, and despite my best efforts, I could find no trace of the Man from Hope. No matter ... my wandering eyes had settled on other sights. Hope might well be the birthplace of a world leader, but on this night that was least interesting thing about the place.

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Traveling in Hope
October 2009