
A perfect mural by artist Jeremiah Lovato depicts moments in history for Southeast Oklahoma. Controversy arose early on centered around a pair of football helmets. The point was missed by many concerning the grand scheme of the mural which was to focus on the long deep rooted history of McCurtain County. (Staff photo)
Taylor Skieens, Sports Editor
Tucked away in the far corner of southeast Oklahoma sits a county that is sometimes forgotten by the state of Oklahoma. The towns of Broken Bow and Idabel stand as proud yet sometimes stubborn neighbors which are divided by a short stretch of Highway 259.
It is a rivalry as unyielding as the red dirt beneath their feet. In 2025, a vibrant mural was unveiled on the weathered brick facade of the Southern Abstract Building in Idabel, a work of art meant to stitch together the shared heritage of these communities.
Painted by artist Jeremiah Lovato, the mural was envisioned as a celebration of the region’s spirit—its Choctaw roots, its lumber history, its resilient people. Yet, a single image in the mural—a Broken Bow Savages football helmet—ignited a firestorm, turning a symbol of unity into a flashpoint for the bitter rivalry between Broken Bow’s Savages and Idabel’s Warriors.
This mural, meant to bind a community, instead lays bare how small-town rivalries, like the one between these two towns, shred the broader vision of collective progress, leaving both poorer for it.
The mural is a breathtaking sight, sprawling across the Southern Abstract Building, its colors catching the afternoon sun in downtown Idabel.
Lovato has spent months crafting it. He has encompassed the heart of McCurtain County on a single wall of a single building. The artwork weaves together vivid scenes: a proud Choctaw Elder, loggers hauling timber from the days when the lumber industry powered the region, wildlife, whiskey and football.
A Savage and a Warrior football helmet protect the inner workings of the artwork, their silhouettes meant to honor the athletic traditions of both high schools. But it was the inclusion of a Broken Bow Savages football helmet, glowing with black and gold, that sparked outrage.
Idabel residents saw it as a slight, a claim of dominance on their own turf. Social media exploded with small minded outrage over the placement of two football helmets. A pair of helmets that have been part of McCurtain County history for over 100 years.
The uproar over the helmet drowned out the mural’s broader message. The mural was intended to bring to light the long history of one of the greatest counties in Oklahoma.
But in Idabel, the helmet was seen as an invasion, a taunt painted on their own soil. The Southern Abstract Building, located in the county seat, was only intending to spread the history of McCurtain County with a beautiful commissioned painting.
Yet, the rivalry’s grip was too tight, and the helmet became a lightning rod, overshadowing the mural’s purpose: to celebrate a community greater than either town alone.
The fixation on two small portions of the mural shows just how strong the Little River Rumble Rivalry has become. It also shows that McCurtain County is much more segregated than we should be. We are too focused on the outcome of a football game to truly respect anything that will bring a positive light to southeast Oklahoma.
The mural’s controversy is a microcosm of a larger tragedy: how a rivalry blinds both towns to their shared potential. Broken Bow and Idabel face common struggles—declining lumber jobs, massive inflation and the need to boost tourism to survive. The mural was a deliberate step toward unity.
Its location in Idabel’s downtown was meant to draw visitors, who might linger at local diners or shops, boosting the region’s economy. The mural was a chance to brand the region as a cultural destination, leveraging shared assets like Beavers Bend State Park and the Choctaw legacy to attract outsiders. But the helmet controversy still had locals in a stir.
This obsession with one-upping each other is more than petty—it’s destructive. The mural could have been a catalyst for collaboration, a way to show the world that Broken Bow and Idabel are stronger together.
Beavers Bend, often seen as Broken Bow’s jewel, draws tourists who could easily visit Idabel’s historic downtown if the towns worked as one. But the rivalry’s grip is relentless.
The irony is that the rivalry is a choice, not a mandate. No one forces Idabel to bristle at Broken Bow’s success or Broken Bow to belittle Idabel’s contributions. The mural, with its Savage and Warrior helmet, was meant to show that both towns are threads in the same tapestry.
Yet, residents cling to their grudges, arguing over a painted helmet while ignoring the bigger picture: a chance to build a future where both thrive. The Southern Abstract Building, now a canvas for division, stands as a reminder of what’s at stake.
If Broken Bow and Idabel could look past their rivalry, they might see the mural for what it is: a call to rise together, to celebrate a shared story that’s bigger than any football game.
As dusk settles over Idabel, the mural glows, its colors vibrant despite the discord. The Savages helmet, the Warrior helmet, the river, the pines—they tell a story of a community that could be whole.
But until both towns let go of their need to win at the other’s expense, the mural will remain a promise unfulfilled. Small-town rivalries like this one don’t just divide—they diminish, robbing Broken Bow and Idabel of the chance to shine as one. The mural deserves better. The community deserves better. And it’s time they saw it for themselves.
Words from the Editor
I have stood by long enough as McCurtain Countians continue to live in a bubble. We have the most beautiful country in Oklahoma, yet we want to believe it is only ours.
We teach our children that small town drama is key and there is nothing outside of the boundaries of McCurtain County.
The mural makes me proud. The mural speaks to my heart. The stories of whiskey runs and the log woods make me think of my father.
Being able to take my daughter to visit a dinosaur down the street is something only the people of Tulsa and Oklahoma City can do. I grew up never wanting to leave and probably never will. But the world is a beautiful place that needs to be explored by young minds.
Young minds that can come back to this county and make it better. The mural should inspire the next generation to make their own history. Be proud that the owner of Southern Abstract opened our eyes to history and beauty.
We are more than two football helmets on a wall… we are McCurtain County.
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