(and Louisiana)

Yesterday I crossed (almost) two states again. Mississippi was a beautiful drive through slightly rolling hills, small towns, happy people, and mostly good weather. I last wrote in a little coffee shop outside of Jackson, before heading into Jackson for lunch. Which turned into a little adventure.

Lunch in Jackson

I first wanted to go to this place called the Elite Restaurant. I parked right out front, and tried to pay. The meter was jammed, and I couldn't even put my coins in. Some official looking guy on a segway came by just then so I explained the problem. He looked at me like a bit of an idiot and just told me parking was free on the weekends. That's great and all, but that still won't solve the jammed meters come work time on Monday. I tried to next go to the Jackson Visitors Center, which was only about half a block away. Apparently, it was closed. Or I just don't know how to open doors. But they seemed pretty firmly shut to me. Giving up on trying to be a tourist, I just went back to the restaurant. Whose doors were also pretty firmly shut. Apparently it's closed on lunchtime on Saturdays? Which I guess makes sense, since the streets were practically empty. I was right near what looked like the financial district of the city, so perhaps without any type of lunch rush, they just don't open. Who knows.

I spent a little bit of time on Yelp! after that. I really wanted some southern food. Fried chicken, crawfish, all that. Or at least the option for all that. Looking through reviews, people seemed to recommend this place named Peaches. Not just southern food, but soul food. Sounded perfect! Except for the fact that people also said it was on a rundown street that generally white people, or typical Yankees, don't feel safe on.

Being a white Yankee girl traveling by myself, I thought to myself "psh, none of these people died. I can make it." So I walked the .3 mile from my car to Peaches. It was only a few blocks from where I was, how bad could it be?

Farish Street

It was certainly a sketchy street. Almost all of the buildings were closed, with either boarded up windows or absolutely no windows at all. I could easily see inside and witness evidence of squatters left behind. There wasn't a soul visible on the street, but who knew who was crouching behind broken down walls or right around the corner. But, you could also feel the history of the street. It once played a predominant role in the development of blues and jazz music, with the Alamo Theater and Ace Records and such. I walked down the street confident, aware of how out of place I looked.

Peaches - Food for the Soul

I ended up walking right by Peaches. Not really sure how, since it's the only place open on its whole block. I backtracked a little, and went on in. There was an older man and woman behind the bar, and two customers sitting at the counter. I sat down, and the man behind the counter started apologizing immediately that they had run out of food, as they had been a bit busier at lunch than expected and he had gone and cooked it all up. Now they were all just enjoying some beers and the fan and chatting, and I was more than welcome to join them all. (Of course, said in a southern accent which I am miserable at recreating.)

Roderick Ephram, current owner of Peaches

After walking down that street, I figured I might as well enjoy a cold one and some conversation. Ordered a corona and got comfortable. We introduced ourselves; he is Roderick, son of Ms Willora "Peaches" Ephram, and I am Miss Kat from New Hampshire. He told me all about the history of the place, and how his mama had come to Jackson with only $12 and worked her way up to buying and opening her own place in 1961. He pointed out the photos on the wall of President Obama visiting, and mentioned quite the impressive list of other famous names who had eaten there. He asked me plenty of questions, and we ended up discussing if either of us had lived out our fantasies yet. He only had two more things to complete on his bucket list, while mine is just beginning. The conversation was fantastic. I might not have had any food, but my soul was definitely nourished.

After looking at the photo album he showed me, and taking some of my own photos, I reluctantly got up to leave. He wanted me to stay and chat some more, but I kept telling him I just had to make it to Texas by the end of the day. He wished me well, told me he would keep me in his prayers (I'm in the prayers of a lot of people I've met so far), and I was on my way.

Farish Street Part II

As soon as I walked about 10 feet from the door, the white guy who had been sitting at the counter popped his head out asking if I was from Portsmouth, NH. I told him that yes, that surprisingly is where I had come from this time, and we talked a little bit about NH and traveling. Supposedly, he had been there before. Being the polite southern boy he is, he then invited me to hang out for a while and have some beers, and then told me I could stay at his place since he lived "right around the corner." Now, maybe his offer was completely genuine and he's just a friendly fellow traveler. But, that's not a risk I'm willing to take. I politely declined, and tried to excuse myself from the conversation again. He then asked if I smoked weed, and was very eager to share the stash he had with me, again offering me a place to stay. I once again declined, thanked him for the offer, shook his hand, and walked briskly away.

Heading back up the block, I walked past a young black man, listening to headphones. I didn't think much of him, but about a block away, I just glanced back to look at the street once more, just as he was glancing around at the same time. I continued walking, and looked back another half a block. He had now turned around and was walking the same way I was. After the sketchy moment with the previous man, and the fact that I was still on the slightly uncomfortable Farish St., I started to panic a little. Picked up my pace a notch or two, and gripped my keys in my hand. When I looked around near the end of the street, he was no longer there. I know that I was just being safe, but at the same time, I was a little ashamed of myself for thinking the worst of people. He probably just missed the street he was supposed to turn on, and had to backtrack. Silly me.

The Rest of the Day

I spent the rest of my short time in Jackson at a sushi place across from where I had parked. I tried to make it a Southern eating time by having a roll with crawfish in it (delicious!) before heading out of the city.

The rest of my drive was uneventful. I continued on Old Route 80 through small town after small town. Once I crossed into Louisiana, the slightly rolling beautiful green hills and trees and rocks turned into flat fields after flat fields. They were still nice to look at, but that scenery quickly blurred all together since there wasn't a lot of change as the hours went by. I only stopped for gas, and pulled into Shreveport around 9:30.

I was going to just stay in a WalMart parking lot, since I had gotten into the area too late to find a campground. Planned on it all day. But once I got close, the thought of spending the night in my car after spending the whole day in my car was just so completely unappealing to me. Checked out priceline, found a great deal on a Holiday Inn, and therefore had another hotel night. Once the driving days aren't so long, I'll be more willing to crash anywhere in my car, but a real bed is just so comfortable after the car. As long as I can find a good deal at least.

Texas Bound

I am only about 10 miles from Texas, and looking forward to driving through about half of the state today. No where specific to go until I get to Fort Worth, which I'll check out a little but won't stay in long. I've been told by my mother that I would really like this place called the Flying Saucer, a "Draught Emporium" the website declares. Looking forward to it! And then it's a bit more west for me before camping out for the night. Yee-haw!

Meandering through Mississippi

Kat Lindemann