The Eureka Springs Ripple

Monday, October 19, 2026Independent since 1886Join the circulation

The Ripple Investigates

Teen’s Death at Magnetic Spring Sparks Rumors, Investigation Continues

The drowning death of 16-year-old Siobhan O’Connor at Magnetic Spring reignites fears of cult activity and deepens tensions between concerned residents and the new administration at City Hall.

By Stephen Winter · Editor-in-Chief8 min read

Authorities have confirmed the death of 16-year-old Siobhan O’Connor, whose body was discovered early Saturday morning at Magnetic Spring, a well-known local landmark. The discovery overshadowed the weekend celebrations and rekindled ongoing worries about suspected cult activity in the area.

Follow the investigation →

City Desk

Strange Noises from the Underground

Merchants and residents report hearing strange noises from Mud Street late at night. The Ripple investigates what may be lurking beneath the historic district.

Mara Bell, Staff Writer

Arts & Culture

The Town That Refuses to Stay in One Century

A walk from the Flatiron to the Crescent reveals a city forever renovating its own mythology.

Clara Voss

Ozark Life

What the Fog Keeps: Notes from Black Bass Lake

At first light, the old trail is quiet enough to make every snapped twig sound like a confession.

Eli Mercer

Book cover for The Springs: Ash & Ember by Noah Isaac Turner

A Novel by Noah Isaac Turner

“The water tells its story through the mouths of those who drink it.”

When James Ashford returns to Eureka Springs to bury the uncle who raised him, he inherits a manor, a secret ledger, and a mystery many locals would rather keep buried.

The Springs: Ash & Ember is a Southern Gothic mystery about grief, memory, and the dangerous stories a place tells about itself.

Planned early access: Eureka Springs Zombie Crawl 2026 · Saturday, October 24. Look for our table on Center Street.

Release Date Pending 2026—Subscribe for Updates!Learn About the Author→

From the First Chapter

“Despite the opulence of it, the countryside seemed to breathe with a quiet melancholy. I hadn’t returned to these hills since graduating high school, but I scarcely remembered the forests of my youth as being so dense, so oppressively dark. Perhaps it is the weight of my years away that has altered my sight. A wooded brook I might once have chosen for the perfect picnic now felt like the sort of place where tragedies take root—where unsolved mysteries settle into the soil and grow like rot beneath the leaves.”