Deep South Day Six

 

Today is going to be mostly a travel day, heading west and northward to Tennessee. This means lots of singing on the bus along with the mic being passed around for storytelling. This in turn leads to much laughter, some teasing, and some serious stuff.

We crossed the Mississippi for the last time and entered the state of the same name early in the day.  The weather was perfect when we stopped at the welcome center for a brief break.  These people I didn’t know when we started out a week ago are now friendly faces I look forward to seeing again. 

After a morning of driving we stopped close to Memphis, TN to visit the Mississippi Culture Museum.  We ate at the restaurant there, with catfish, black-eyed peas, and sweet potato pie all on the menu.  Then we had two hours to wander the grounds at will. 

A small 1900s town with general store, church, school, doctor’s office, newspaper printing press and more were there for our perusal.  I walked around at length, catching a glimpse of life from a century or two ago.  Several cabins had been moved in from other parts and it was fascinating to imagine how people lived such a relatively short time ago.  

Part of me felt like I could have fit into the pioneer lifestyle pretty well.  Neither Paul nor I are afraid of hard work and I could imagine the satisfaction of creating a place of our own through the labor of our hands, the sweat of our brows, and our own ingenuity.  I enjoy problem-solving and there’s very little Paul can’t create when he sets his talents to work, so I think we could have managed a fairly comfortable existence.  Of course I might have been gone in my forties had I lived a century ago.  That’s the age I was when I had a bad case of appendicitis.  Although the first successful appendectomy was done in 1735, if I lived far from a major metropolis, out on the frontier somewhere, and with the shady hygiene practices of the day, chances are I would not have survived it.

We left the museum around 2pm and were making good progress toward our hotel when suddenly traffic slowed to a crawl and we were in a traffic jam that did not look like it was going to end any time soon.  After quite some time at a virtual standstill we entertained ourselves watching a big rig beside us straddling the berm and the right lane to prevent all the cars that were trying to pass everyone and cut in farther up ahead. 

I finally Googled the situation and learned the hold-up was from I-55 being the scene of a multiple tractor trailer and car accident, five hours before.  The interstate was still closed up ahead and we were rerouted on much smaller roads, but at least we were moving again. Being in a slow-down on a bus full of people who enjoy telling jokes, singing songs, and telling stories, isn’t nearly as tedious as being in a car by yourself, or worse yet, in a car with your young children.  And it’s nice the bus has a bathroom too.

An hour or two later than our intended arrival we finally did reach our hotel in Jackson, Tennessee. Ervin and Esther are celebrating their fortieth anniversary today so Martha had drawn a colorful “card” on their section of window.  When we pulled up to the hotel and were scouting out the local fast food places within walking distance,  Martha informed us that the anniversary couple had provided our evening meal which was waiting for us at the hotel.  A stack of pizzas were already in the lobby along with delicious glazed cinnamon sticks and we were all relieved we didn’t have to go forage.

Paul and I were both hungry for ice-cream so I set out on foot to see if I could find anything close, thinking I would buy a couple of gallons to share.  Way off in the distance was a grocery store.  Across a four-lane highway with heavy traffic, too far away for me to lug that much ice-cream, I accepted it was a bad idea.  Especially since it was fast getting dark and I didn’t know what kind of neighborhood I was in.  So I bought a couple of Klondikes from the tiny hotel store and considered myself lucky.  Everyone that saw me chomping away followed suit and I’m sure they sold a record number in the next ten minutes.

Even though we were all really tired, it was our last night together and we wanted to make it last so we gathered to play our evening cards.  Paul and the harmonica players were planning to have another jam session too. The very assertive receptionist told us that we have to keep it quiet and it’s party over at 9:00 pm. That was in twenty minutes. Most hotels we had stayed at quiet time was an hour later.  We promised to be good, though, and we kept our word.  Problem is when you can’t trash talk, scream, laugh, yell, or groan at will the games aren’t nearly as much fun.  And the music was definitely out, thanks to the intimidating woman at the front desk. We were all yawning and fighting sleep anyway so things ended early and we all went to our rooms and to bed.