Welcome to a new series from For AR People, Citizen Spotlight. When government doesn’t work for the people, the people work for themselves. We’re going to highlight folks from around Arkansas who have sacrificed to uplift their communities. We couldn’t think of a better leadoff hitter than Adam Watson, co-director of Gravel and Grit, a 501(c)4 that opposes the Franklin County prison site by advocating for government transparency and accountability. No relation to FARP deputy director Sam Watson.
Adam Watson never wanted to be a politician; he still doesn’t. When he and Taylor, his wife, moved outside Charleston from Houston a few years ago, the goal was simple: keep your head down and live the kind of quiet life most Arkansans in the River Valley prefer. Raise their son, grow their small business, maybe get some horses and cattle. It’s a familiar dream but an unfamiliar pathway. Not everyone is cut out for the life, but Watson chose it. Things were going well.
Then Gov. Sarah Sanders’ voice came through on the radio in late October 2024 announcing a new 3,000 bed prison basically in the Watsons’ backyard. At first, there was confusion. The county judge and representatives of the district hadn’t heard much, if anything. Surely there was some mistake or oversight. After all, you’d be hard-pressed to find a worse spot to build a prison than Mill Creek Mountain. Rocky, waterless, and remote, all the locals – and especially Watson – knew immediately the location couldn’t support the prison.
But just a few days later, the Governor sent her semi-disgraced “advisor”, Joe Profiri, to tell Franklin County residents at a contentious town hall that the state had done plenty of due diligence on the site and that residents should get used to the idea. Over boos and jeers, former chair of the Board of Corrections Benny Magness told residents that “mark my words, some of you will work here.”
Watson decided he’d do everything he could to make Profiri and Magness liars.
A former paralegal, he knew his way around legalese, and most importantly, the Freedom of Information Act. With support from other community members who were as opposed as he was, he began flooding various state agencies with FOIA requests. When was the decision made? What exactly did “due diligence” look like for this process? Were other sites considered? How exactly did the worst possible site in the state make it to the quarterfinals, let alone win the crown?
And so the long, grueling process of advocating for his chosen community began. There were some early wins, like uncovering an Office of Geographic Information Systems employee making fun of Franklin County residents with a South Park clip and finding emails that showed just how long the state had hidden the attempted purchase.
But, as so often happens, it only slowed the process. The state kept moving forward on the project, despite the mounting evidence that the site was incredibly ill-suited for such a large build and that the public had been systematically cut out of the decision making process.
The cost of the prison kept ballooning. Sanders announced it around $500 million initially; by the time the funding bill appeared in the 2025 general legislative session, the price tag had soared past a billion dollars. Watson and his fellow Franklin County community members saw an opportunity; Sanders had fumbled the rollout by obfuscating and steamrolling, and if there’s one thing the Arkansas State Senate hates, it’s being steamrolled. So behind the scenes, they started hustling. They chased legislators through the halls of the Capitol with information packets about the prison. They made calls, filling up legislators’ desks with pink slips. In short, they put in the kind of work you have to do in order to get anything done in Arkansas.
Due in no small part to Watson’s organizing and the efforts of Franklin County folks, the vote to fund the prison failed not once, not twice, but five times.
That’s some Arkansas Grit, right there.
Almost a year after Sanders announced the prison site, Watson finally got the chance to speak on the record to lawmakers about what he and other community members had found, along with fellow Gravel and Grit member Natalie Cadena. It was damning. The Governor’s Office refused to even face lawmakers during the meeting, prompting some frustrated outbursts from normally staunch Sanders supporters. Senator Jimmy Hickey (R-Texarkana) complimented the presentation and said it moved him “further away” from ever supporting the prison.
The fight’s not over; the fiscal session is fast approaching and it’s a near-certainty that Sanders will push hard to get the funding bill over the line. But it’s worth spotlighting someone who never wanted to lead a political movement and did so anyway when his community asked him to stand up.
Looking out for your neighbors? That’s the Arkansas way. That’s the Adam Watson way.
Photo from the Arkansas Advocate
