continued from page 2A mills that were starting to fill up the pasture along Wiggins Mill Road. Neighbors started notic ing those giant windmills that turned in the wind and reflected headlights at night. They’d point out a guitar player that was cut from metal and painted bright colors, a man sawing wood, a mule cart, stars, a man riding a bicycle. There were also several B-29 bomber repli cas similar to the ones Wal lis was familiar with when he served in Saipan during the war. _ Neighbors would tell ‘friends in town about the colorful windmills, which others later called whirli gigs, and they’d ride out to see them, too. He was com missioned to do whirligigs for the 1996 Atlanta Olym pics, the Visionary Art Mu seum in Baltimore and the N.C. Art Museum and in stalled them with his sons. Before long, newspapers and TV stations across the world were reporting on Simpson’s wind-powered machines. And, suddenly, Wallis Simpson was famous. VANDALS AND TRESPASSERS Simpson started making his windmills to keep busy. He enjoyed sharing them with the community and loved talking to folks who stopped by the shop every day, Jean said. It was folks who came late at night who grew into a problem. Simpson’s pasture be came a popular hangout spot for some in the area. In interviews over the years, Wallis talked about leaving his home before bedtime to ride by the pas ture and see what mischief might be going on. Often, vandals shot at the whirligigs, threw bottles and stole what they could from the shop and pasture. The next morning, Wallis would find beer and liquor bottles and trash on his property. In the early years, tres passers would find a way to climb the poles of the whirligigs. To discourage them, Wallis would put axle grease on the poles, Barnie said. And he’d make sure his later whirligigs didn't have foot holds on the In 1998, Simpson was charged with felony as sault and shooting into an occupied vehicle after an incident at the pasture. Two teenagers from Garner were hurt after Vollis fired birdshot from a 12-gauge shotgun. In court, Vollis’ attorneys claimed the teens or others with them were throwing rocks and shooting fire crackers and Vollis was trying to get away safely. Vollis pleaded guilty to two misdemeanors and received a suspended sen tence. The case drew national attention. Local residents and the art world came to the defense of Wallis Simp son, saying he had the right to defend himself and his property. It was incidents such as this that only spread the urban myth of “Acid Park.’ THE ACID PARK MYTH Here’s how the legend goes, according to Barnie. The old man who built the whirligigs had a daugh ter who was coming home with her date from the prom or some big dance and “had done the acid.” The boy took the curve at the pond too fast and wrapped the car around a tree. The daughter was killed. According to the Acid Park myth, the old man went crazy and built the whirligigs as a tribute to his daughter. It would be a good story if it were true, but it’s not, as was pointed out more than once at the funeral. Wallis and Jean had two daughters. One died in infancy; the other, Carol Simpson Kyles, is still liv ing There is a wrecked car on the Simpson prop erty that dates back to the 1950s, and that might have fed the rumors. The car is one that Vollis towed home after a wreck, Jean said. A tree now grows through the car. Wollis hated for the wind mill pasture to be called Acid Park. The whole story bothered him. “It wasn’t true, and he as sociated it with those who didn’t appreciate it as art but as an overnight hang out to vandalize, shoot at and get souvenirs from and just be mean,” Barnie said. But the name stuck and people from all over made the trek to Lucama at night to see the whirligigs and lights they believed were inspired by an acid trip. Many of those who com mented on Wilson Times stories in recent days have referred to trips they made to Acid Park. MOVING THE WINDMILLS Wallis aged right along with his whirligigs. The giant windmills rusted and needed repair. And although he had taken care of them for decades, Wallis got to the point he could no longer climb a ladder to do the work. He was burned in a shop accident in 2005; he had heart bypass sur gery a few years before and heart valve replace ment in February. All of that slowed him down. Three years ago, he made the hard decision to sell his creations for the Wallis Simpson Whirligig Park to be located in down town Wilson. He knew he’d miss them and didn’t want to see them go. “I didn’t really make em to get rid of ’em,” he said in an interview at the time. But he knew if something wasn’t done to fix them, they would eventually fall beyond repair. Barnie had reservations about his dad selling them but went along with it. “We wanted what he wanted,” he said. It was bittersweet for Jean as well. But he had the utmost respect for those who are working to restore the whirligigs, she said, and enjoyed answer ing their questions. “Daddy respected their work,” Barnie said. “He knew it was first rate and first class.” The only sad part, Jean said, was the fact that Wallis never saw the park complete. He’d wonder why they didn’t just put up some of them now and do the landscaping around it. But that didn’t happen. After his most recent sur gery, he told his wife that he knew he’d never see the whirligig park open. If all goes as planned, the Vollis Simpson Whirli gig Park will be open by the time of the November Whirligig Festival and will eventually be filled with Vollis’ windmills. CONTRIBUTIONS Susan Kluttz, secretary of the N.C. Department of Cultural Resources, called Vollis Simpson “a great artist.’ She came to Wilson County in February to visit the farm and see the whirl igig restoration in progress downtown. Vollis was in Baltimore for surgery, so she never met him. Kluttz said Vollis had a creative genius that is truly North Carolina, mention ing his values, plain talk and patriotism. “He took his work ethic and experience and cre ated something that is pure joy,” she said in a phone interview Monday. The whirligig park is a great example of arts-driv en economic development to bring in jobs and tour ism, she said. Others agree. The park has been awarded more than $3 million in grants and donations. Kluttz was at the funeral Tuesday, so was Rebecca Hoffberger, founder and director of the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore. Hoffberger commissioned Vollis to build a 55-foot, 3-ton whirligig for the museum’s opening in 1995. Vollis’ family said he grew to love Baltimore, and, as it turns out, Baltimore loved him as well. People still enjoy visiting the museum and watching the whirligig turn in the wind. Hoffberger has high praise for Wallis and said he used his life to bring joy to others “America has only a handful of old-timers, great visionary artists who will be legends,” she said. Vollis Simpson is one of them. ‘A GENTLE GIANT’ Barnie said his dad was a generous man who loved his family, friends and neighbors. He learned from his dad how to be good. Wollis helped people whenever asked, whether it involved pulling a fallen tree off someone’s house or taking in dogs and cats dropped off on the dirt road by the shop. He also taught Barnie something important: “Do what you want, do what you love, and don’t worry about anything else.” He loved the people who dropped by to chat and appreciated their admira tion of his work. He would often be at his shop by daybreak just so he could get some work done before people started dropping by. He’d take a pack of Nabs with him to the shop for lunch, Jean said, because he knew he might not make it back before dark. He earned respect and a good reputation, Barnie said, and he was rewarded with 94 years of living. “The world beat a path to his door pretty much,” Bar nie said, and it was without him hiring a publicity firm to sell his art. Jean wants the world to remember her husband as a kind, sweet man. “He was good,” she said. “He was my husband and I loved him with all my heart “He was a gentle giant.” lisa@wilsontimes.com | 265-7810 Vollis Simpson and son, Barnie. Contributed Photo Vollis Simpson stands by one of his first whirligigs, in the late 1970s, before it was installed. Contributed Photo Wallis Simpson and two of his children, Carol Kyles and Mike Simpson, judge contest entries at Wilson's Whirligig Festival. Contributed Photo