A happy belated Pi Day to you all! 3.14—get it?
Monday and Tuesday… I can’t even really remember what happened, because our days have been so busy, so very much get up in the morning and hit the ground running, and grab coffee at every opportunity. A week as full as it is fulfilling.
Monday morning was our first in the cabins at Tallahatchie Flats, and I woke up early to shower in the tiny bathroom with no lock—very clean though, and that’s what matters, right? On the itinerary for this morning was “early Walmart run with food captains” but several of us went along in search of warmer clothing, too. “Food captains” because each cabin is in charge of two communal meals this week, one breakfast and one dinner, and in my cabin with my friends, vegan Samantha is more or less in charge, so the groceries we picked up were her ideas, and tonight (Wednesday) is our turn to cook, so we are making chicken and beef fajitas with rice, black beans, and guacamole. Simple, classic. After our return from Walmart Monday morning, we had breakfast in what has been dubbed “the adults’ cabin” where our professors are staying, and as soon as that was done, we…did not do what was next on the itinerary! No, it was too muddy to walk down to the Tallahatchie River behind our cabins and the Little Zion Church about a mile away, so instead, we tried to move some activities around. We did briefly visit the abandoned Bryant Grocery store in Money, MS and the Emmett Till markers there, but as it rained, we made plans to just come back later in the week. But Emmett Till…
Emmett Till. He was 14 and from Chicago, visiting relatives here, when he went into Bryant Grocery to buy candy, and spoke to or perhaps whistled—though multiple sources agree that he often whistled to alleviate a stutter—at 24-year-old white shopkeeper Carolyn Bryant. Four nights later, he was abducted at gunpoint from his great-uncle’s house, beaten and tortured and finally shot, and the body dumped into the Tallahatchie with a 75-pound gin fan tied around the neck with barbed wire. After a couple of days it was recovered, and Roy Bryant and his brother J. W. Milam stood trial for the murder of Emmett Till, and acquitted by an all-white jury, despite evidence I think, after a deliberation that hardly took an hour. After double jeopardy attached, both of them confessed, and the entire event helped spark the Civil Rights Movement. Fourteen years old, innocent, leaving a legacy that shouldn’t have had to happen that way. Particularly not to an innocent child, and particularly not because of the color of his skin.
Nobody really talks about racism that way in this country. A lot of the details are omitted from schoolroom lessons, maybe because most of them are too ugly for children to hear. But they need to know. They need to understand what happened, why, and why it’s not right. Of everything we’ve seen so far this week, Emmett Till’s story is what has resonated most with me, and I think that that’s why.
There were a couple of Monday things that did happen Monday, like TurnRow Book Co. in downtown Greenwood, a quaint little bookstore pictured below which we’ll return to on Thursday for a reading by Michael Knight. (No, I don’t know who that is, but maybe then I’ll find out!)
Then we were able to visit the Back in the Day Museum in Baptist Town, owned and run by a Mr. Sylvester Hoover, who took us on a short walking tour of the block, gave a little history, pointed out a couple of landmarks—one, a street corner where bluesman Robert Johnson played.
Monday night, first communal dinner at the cabin called Tush Hog, hosted by Santiago, whose rice game has been on point this week, Jasmin, Michelle, and Kell. Ribs, rice, baked potatoes, broccoli, and deliciousness.
Up early again Tuesday morning—but let’s be real, every morning this week has been and will be an early one—to drive an hour and a half to the college town of Oxford, home of Ole Miss! Which we didn’t visit until later, anyway, as we first breakfasted at Big Bad Brunch—enormous pancakes, excellent coffee—and then toured Rowan Oak, the home of William Faulkner. I will admit that I enjoyed that, even though I did not enjoy his As I Lay Dying. We visited too his gravesite in the city cemetery, where he is buried next to his wife (who outlived him and installed an A/C unit in her bedroom the day after his death), and we did read a few chapters of his book for one of my classmates’ projects.
Visiting Square Books and Off Square Books may have been a mistake, but it was on the itinerary so I couldn’t have avoided it even if I wanted to—which I did not, because my mother raised me right. I spent perhaps $70 in less than one hour, on three books. Absolutely no regrets, not a single one.
The last thing of Tuesday was a walking tour of Ole Miss, and it was very short because it was very cold. I took no pictures, and while Ole Miss is iconic and a beautiful, unique university, I was immensely relieved when we returned to the minivans, out of the wind, and headed back to Tallahatchie Flats.
I am enjoying myself but in 100% honesty, I can’t imagine how relieved I’ll feel this Saturday to load up the minivans for the last time and head on home. 😴