Field Notes Inside an Integrated Communications Agency

My family visited Acid Park last weekend. These ginormous whirligigs in an overgrown field near rural Wilson, N.C. are masterful works of passion. They are pure, honest and heartfelt. A little trippy and deeply knotted in folklore, too. Driving away, my wife told me the origin. I found other explanations online that matched her tale.

One story starts, “Legend has it, a girl was on her way home from the prom where she had dropped a little acid. At the final turn, she ran off the road, wrapping the car around a tree.” Another account goes on to say, “She suffered severe head injuries, and trapped by flames she burned to death.” A decaying car on site appears to authenticate the stories.

So why giant whirligigs?

“The girl's grieving father nailed reflectors to every surface around his home,” says one visitor. Adding more color, another tells, “When her father heard ofher death, he went insane. He made 60–foot towers of steel and old cars near the area of her death. He also made statues with weird objects like forks and spoons.”

Evidently, this is spectacular at night. “I stopped in the middle of the road,” says one circumspect visitor. “There were millions of reflectors everywhere, even in the trees. Without going further, we turned tail and ran.” A jauntier visitor believes, “It's supposedly the greatest place in the east to trip on acid because the way the reflectors blow in the wind.”

I guess reflectors also attract paranormal activity, too. “If you visit Acid Park around 2:00 AM on prom night you can hear screams,” reads one site. Another recounts,“…my car shut off twice, my radio changed stations by itself, and my navigation system told me I was in Mexico. Then floating leaves wrapped around my car like a tornado. We came back later and saw white haze in the middle of the road. It got closer, called out ‘Johnathan’ and disappeared. I'll never go back!”

“You can come to your own conclusion…” declares a visitor, “but there is definitely something out there.”

Well, what’s out there is a legend chalked up to good ole fashioned word of mouth. Social media sites – where I learned all this – are modern gossip fences. Tales grow taller, faster and go further. While the hoopla around AcidPark is completely fabricated, the art is very special. The creator, 80-something-year-old Vollis Simpson, is a lean man of few words who has likely not heard of social media or even acid. His pieces have been exhibited at major national art museums so please don’t call it Junk Art. "I buy all the material I use,”bristles Mr. Simpson. “If you start with junk, all you're gonna build is junk.” As many of us learn news through social media channels, that sounds like good advice. Obviously, he’s done something right.

Whether or not you believe in urban legends, Acid Park must be seen and definitely talked about.