My travels
First stop: Dyersburg, Tennessee.
Dyersburg is 485 miles from my home in Glen Ellyn, which is about 7 and a half hours worth of driving--without stops. I chose Dyersburg when I realized that driving 10 hours would be a crazy-long drive for the day. Tomorrow, I'll travel to Cleveland, Mississippi.
I really love road trips and driving. I feel so relaxed and the time on the road gives me space to think. And sometimes I think of the craziest things. For instance, I'll see a huge old oak tree and I'll wonder what it's like to be that tree and witness the changes that have occurred as it has rooted itself in that particular part of Earth for a hundred years or more--was there even a road running in front of it, much less an interstate highway, when it began life as a sprouting acorn? It's amazing to me that my brain will travel in one direction as my car travels in another, more finite one. It made me realize that perhaps that's a part of travel that I hadn't really valued enough before this: that the physical act of travel in and of itself, literally puts us in a different frame of mind, one that we couldn't even imagine until we were on the journey. I love that idea, and it makes travel seem a more necessary than simply pleasureable although the pleasure is enough.
Saturday, June 17, 2023
Today, I started the morning with a trip to the Dyersburg farmers' market to pick up something for breakfast. I always try to visit local farmers' markets when I travel because you get to meet local people, see the things that they're selling, and you also get to contribute to the local economy if you happen to find something that catches your fancy--like an iced coffee and a home-made scone. My breakfast. You also get to see the local people interact, which can be fun and interesting. And if you're not afraid to talk to people (I am not), you can start a conversation with someone and share a laugh and a moment; an exchange of spirits.
Another favorite place to visit are local feed stores, because you can hear the best conversations about all the local happenings. So I found Pennington Seed & Supplies, a local establishment. It was fun to poke around and watch the people buying seed and, yes, supplies.
Below are some more pictures from Pennington Seed & Feed. The picture on the left is a display of tractor models, some of which go back to the 1930s. Vegetable plants are displayed on the right, along with a velociraptor. I'm not sure about their story; I wish I would have asked! I'll not let that opportunity pass me by again. Live and learn.
I left Dyersburg with conflicted feelings. The people were kind and friendly and the town was charming and interesting, but I couldn't shake the feelings of sadness and heaviness of heart the history of the place imposed upon me, particularly when the history that confronts me is in the form of statues celebrating the Confederacy. The statue to the left is in the Dyersburg town square. I noticed that there are no statues celebrating Union soldiers, although we know that there were many Southerners, particularly enslaved people, who escaped their enslavement to fight along side the Union soldiers. You will not find any statues or monuments honoring those soldiers, either. But you will find plenty of monuments and historical markers honoring the "brave and loyal sons of the Confederacy."
I do not believe that every Southerner is a racist, just as I know that the "North" has plenty of history to answer for as well. For example, Chicago had it's share of race riots; enacted discriminatory practices such as red-lining so that African-Americans couldn't live in "white" neighborhoods; and violent crimes against African Americans that could rightfully be considered lynchings happened in Chicago and the rest of Illinois. But these public displays of honoring a terrible past is something that is truly awful. I can't imagine being an African-American person and having to confront these "monuments" on a daily basis.
I just don't believe anyone can get "used to" this kind of blatant anti-American and racist iconography and not feel it in their bones. But that's one of the reasons that I'm making this trip--to find out more about our history, our country, and our struggles.
On to Cleveland, Mississippi!
After spending a couple of hours in Dyersburg, I started the three and a half hour drive to Cleveland, Mississippi, and Delta State University. Four years ago, I attended another NEH workshop that focused on the culture and history of the Mississippi Delta. I wanted to see the town that I remember so fondly and one of the teachers of that workshop, Mrs. Lee Aylesworth.
As you drive from Tennessee past Memphis and into the Delta, the landscape changes from hills to flat as the middle of Illinois and the temperature climbs as does the humidity. Still, I was excited to get to Mississippi because I have such good memories of my time at Delta State. It was wonderful to see Lee and to meet her husband, Don, and dog, Brynne.
Above is Cotton Row Street, the road that runs in front of the hotel I'm staying in tonight, the Cotton House Hotel.
To the right is the Ellis Theater a landmark historical building in Cleveland.
Sunday, June 18, 2023
Another long drive today. First from Cleveland to Jackson, Mississippi, and then from Jackson to Mobile, Alabama. Before I left Cleveland, I stopped for a donut and coffee at a local donut shop, Cleveland Donuts -- forget DD when you're on the road; go local! And then a few more pictures of Cleveland before heading out of town. I felt sad leaving Cleveland because I have so many fond memories of the town. Just four years ago, at Delta State University, I learned about the history and culture of the blues; the oppressive and lethal racism of Mississippi including the lynching of Emmitt Till; and the ethnic diversity of the area as well. I learned many surprising things like the fact that the slide guitar, so closely associated with the blues, was introduced to guitarists of the Delta by Hawaiians who came to work in the rice fields of Mississippi. And that Jim Henson used to capture frogs along the rivers of the area and those frogs would go on to inspire Kermit the Frog. Also, that the guitar was brought to America by enslaved Africans. Those are just a few examples of the rich history of the people and the place that helped turn the Mississippi Delta from a two-dimensional place on a map to a three-dimensional, multi-sensory, deeply emotional, and richly colored envionment I'm happy to revisit over and over again.
As I said, before I got to Mobile, I stopped in Jackson, Mississippi. Why? To visit the home of Eudora Welty, a great Southern American writer. We don't read much of Eudora's (Isn't that just the best name? The prefix "eu" means "good," and, sure enough, Eudora means "good gift.") work much anymore. Her stories are more about one's interior life and emphasize thoughts and emotions and relationships, and the forgiveness and gentle humor, as well as kindness, that contribute to our humanity even as they may take a toll, small or large. Personally, I love those kinds of stories, but I think that we often believe that young people or more contemporary adults won't enjoy them as much. I don't know about that; I think if we took a little more time, like Welty and her pre-electronic and social media world, we would find something that resonates with us and maybe even inspires us. I know that her books and short stories resonated with me and helped me feel like an emotionally whole person at a time when I wondered if I were even half-complete.
At any rate, it was a treat to see her house in a beautiful older part of Jackson, to wander in her gardens completely alone because the place is closed on Sundays and Mondays, and to smell the camellia bushes. Camellias grow abundently in mild climates and the flowers are beautiful and symmetrical and their scent is delicious. Camellia bushes are also where tea comes from and you can smell the fragrence of the tea in their leaves.
After poking about Welty's gardens and looking out from her porch at the surrounding neighborhood and wondering what she must have seen, I hopped into my car and drove up the hill to Daylight Donuts for a spectacular veggie burger and, after smelling those camellias, a glass of iced tea. If you are thinking that I put an emphasis on local food when I travel, you are absolutely correct!! Trying the local food is half the adventure and joy of travel! After my delicious lunch, it was time to hit the road for Mobile and Spring Hill College.
(The picture of the camellia blossoms below are from the Better Homes & Gardens' website.)
On the left is the front of Eudora Welty's home. The picture in the middle is the porch on the left side of the house. You can see the archway to the porch on picture of her house. At one time this porch was screened in and it has a fan and lights. According to the sign above, the porch was a favorite place for the Welty's to spend time together in the evenings and to welcome visitors. At right, is an arbor leading into Eudora's garden in the back of her house.
I've arrived: My home for the next week
After arriving at Spring Hill College in Mobile, Alabama, I received my room assignment. It's back to dorm living, y'all!! Here are some pictures of my room--it's spartan to be sure, not much in the way of decoration, but I cleaned it up, made my bed, and set up my desk. Have a look!
I'm grateful that the campus provides more beautiful surroundings than my room! Look how lovely it is.
Visiting Mobile
Friday afternoon, June 23, 2023
We wrapped up the workshop before lunch on Friday, and that's when I had the opportunity to explore Mobile, Alabama.
Mobile has a long and fascinating history. As with almost every major city in the US, Mobile was first inhabited by indigenous people. Then, during the late 17th and early 18th centuries, the Spanish and the French competed for control of the land south of Mobile by establishing forts in the area. But the first people to claim the area that would eventually become the city of Mobile, were French-Canadians who claimed the territory for France by the early 18th century. After the French were defeated by the British during the 7 Year War, they ceded land east of the Mississippi to Britain and Mobile became part of British territory. Unfortunately, each of these European powers were responsible for African slavery, and the US would follow suit. These different elements are represented in the unique culture of the Mobile, just as they are in the Gulf area of the United States in general; it's one of the things I really appreciate about this beautiful and interesting part of our country.
I didn't have much time so I decided to wander the older areas of Mobile, from the streets of the oldest part of the city, to the outlaying suburbs that developed in the 19th and early 20th century. I stopped in shops, at historical markers, restaurants, and, of course, bookshops. Some of my pictures are posted below.
You can see the charm and the influence of the many cultures that have
passed through Mobile in its buildings, especially in the old town area. The streets reflect the grid design, the iron-work, and the stone paving of the French; the buildings include the Moorish arches of the Spanish; and the 20th century architectual styles of Art Deco and Art Moderne are visible in the signs and facades of many building its buildings. There are so many places to shop and eat, including plenty of souvenir shops, but also stores that stock sports mementoes and clothing from all of the South's universities and colleges. There's also the A & M Peanut Shop, a candy and nut store that has been open since 1947 and stocks everything nut-related, including boiled-peanuts.
While visiting old town Mobile, I wandered into The Haunted Book Shop. Who could resist a name like that! A bookstore has been in this building for over a hundred years. And, of course, the bookstore is watched over by, Mr. Bingley, who was laying in his "cat-ominium" on one of the store's windowsills.
Going home
Saturday, June 24
Saturday morning came and it was time to head home. After saying goodbye to Spring Hill College with a small libations ceremony, I stopped off for my usual local coffee and scone at the Carpe Diem Coffee & Tea Company because I thought that the name was a good omen for the start of a thousand mile road trip. The coffee was fabulous, but, honestly, the scone was a little too prissy--it was light and fluffy, and I like my scone on the heavier and drier side. I guess I'm just a fan of a doughy lump in my belly, what can I say. Then it was time to hit the road!
I have to say that I was amazed by Alabama's beauty. It is lush and green as befits a place that is the rainiest city in the US. I know; I thought it was Seattle, Washington, or Juneau, Alaska--especially Juneau because it's located in an actual rainforest. The flatter land of Mobile, a city located at the confluence of five distinct rivers, gives what to rolling hills, that give way to steeper hills covered in pine forests, that eventually flattens out as you reach Tennessee. I can now understand the importance of the timber industry to Mobile's history: forests blanket the state. However, the timber industry in Alabama is crafty as it is elsewhere: if you peer closely through the trees, you can see plenty of clear-cut acreage and all those clear-cut fields made me wonder about the environmental effect that had on the folks downstream, places like Africatown.
My travels north were not quite as exciting as my road trip heading towards Mobile. I just wanted to get home so I stuck to the main highway, which I don't tend to do. That meant encountering lots of road construction which, in total, added another four hours to my overall trip. I had planned to reach Jackson, Tennessee, by the end of my first day of driving, but I went a little further and ended up in Clarksville, Tennessee.
Clarksville is northwest of Nashville--far enough outside of Nashville to cut the price of hotels by two-thirds--and just south of the Kentucky border, so it was a good place to stop. Stopping in Clarksville also meant that I was a little more than half-way home, and that felt good. I found a room in a Holiday Inn Express that was just off the freeway and checked in.
Sunday, June 25
Woke up Sunday morning, did some yoga, packed up, said
good-bye to the Holiday Inn, and hit the road. But I was hungry--more than local coffee and donut hungry--so I started searching for somewhere for breakfast. I found the Plumb Line coffee shop in Clarksville where I had a breakfast burrito and an iced oatmilk latte. I loved that the cook kind of squashed the burrito like a pannini which made the sides crispy. Definitely going to add that technique to my breakfast burrito repetoire! Yum!
After I finished eating every crumb of my breakfast burrito, I went to explore Clarksville. Since deciding to stay in Clarksville for the night, I couldn't get the song, Last Train to Clarksville out of my mind mind, so I thought I might as well explore the place for awhile.
Turns out that Clarksville is lovely. It sits on a the hills above the Cumberland River, offering wonderful views of the surrounding countryside. Like many small communities, it's been improving
and restoring buildings in the downtown historic area so that you can see many of the buildings that served as community buildings. That some of these buildings survived is surprising when you consider that Clarksville changed hands at least three times during the Civil War and suffered through some terrible tornadoes in the last 100 years.
The picture on the left is taken from a park over-looking the Cumberland River and a walking and biking path that goes down the hill and along the river. The statue on the right commemorates the signing of the 19th Amendment that gave women the right to vote. Tennessee was the 36th state to ratify the amendment, leading to the addition of the amendment to the Constitution.
While walking through the historic district high on a hill overlooking the Cumberland River, a man stopped to talk with me. Mr. Don, left, is a retired high school History teacher and he told me about the city and the area. He pointed out the various public monuments posted below.
The fountain on the left was for horses and dogs--the dogs drank from the pools indicated by the cutouts on the base of the fountain; the fountain in the middle is from the late 19th century; and the monument on the left memorializes those who were lost and who fought in World War II.
The temperatures kept climbing as I walked, talked to Mr. Don, and took pictures of Clarksville. So did the humidity. I was happy to get back into my car and start the drive home. I knew I would be back in my house with my husband, Mike, and daughter, Phoebe, by the end of the day!
The ride was pretty much like the day before except the landscape was flatter; the number of squished armadillos is alarming--even in Illinois, thanks to climate change. Other surprises included the size of Fort Campbell when I passed from Tennessee into Kentucky, and then, again, the size of the Ohio River as I went from Kentucky into Illinois. Both of those were huge! I don't often think of the military bases that we have in the middle of our country; when I hear the words "military base," I think of the coasts and Alaska, but they are scattered throughout the Midwest, too.
Ten hours later, due to slowdowns for lane closures and a stop at Buckees, I was finally home!
Home!!