Cross Country Tour – Day 6

Mississippi River Bridge at Vicksburg.
Mississippi River Bridge at Vicksburg.

3 September 2016

Tanis went to play bridge and to leave us two boys alone.  She’s a lifetime master and one of the best players in the state. Several years ago, she helped host (was the chairperson) of an international tournament in Jackson, MS.

Archie and I got into his sports convertible and tooled over to Vicksburg, MS and then crossed the river to Monroe, LA. Just as you get off the bridge and head north toward the very small town of Delta, is a bar called The World.  It’s a dive personified but Archie swears it has the best hamburgers for a hundred miles.  It was pretty good.  On the way over we reminisced over the many trips we had made to Vicksburg as both kids and adults.

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One neat portion of the trip was when we got off on old, old highway 80.  Not the one I traveled to Brandon but the older version of that.  We traveled through the very well maintained and picturesque community of Bovina where Tanis grew up.

Tonight we ate ate an old standard restaurant in Jackson in business since 1956 called Crechales, known for their seafood and they say, prime steaks.  Their menu states that only 5% of beef is graded prime and they say no restaurants serve it but them.  I had snapper topped with lump crab and it was pretty good.

Tomorrow, I head off to Lake Livingstone, Texas for one night.

Cross Country Tour – Day 5

2 September 2016

I slept a little late this morning – too much wine the night before during the party.  Ann prepared a great breakfast and too soon it was time to get on the road.  I can’t express how much I appreciate what Ann and Reid did for me by hosting the party of old (yes, we’re all old) colleagues.

I took highway 45 south out of Tupelo and headed to Meridian, MS, my birthplace.  I was born in St. Joseph’s hospital on 12th Street and 28th Avenue (it’s been gone for years). My dad was fond of telling how he had to sell his prize calf to bail me out of the hospital.

Meridian holds many memories. My maternal grandmother liked to dine out on Sundays for dinner (that’s lunch to you non-Southerners – the evening meal is called supper). She rotated the restaurants and about once every two months, we’d drive 90 miles to Meridian from Morton on old highway 80 and dine at Weidmann’s on 22nd Avenue.  Other venues included the Gulf Cafe in Morton and the Heidelburg Hotel in Jackson.

Weidmann’s is fine dining at its Southern best. I had my first prime rib there and when asked how I wanted it prepared, said medium. Fortunately the chef was smart enough to send it out rare and with horseradish.

Weidmann's Restaurant in Meridian, MS - my birth town.
Weidmann’s Restaurant in Meridian, MS – my birth town.

Weidmann’s was established in 1870 and until the 1990’s never closed their doors, even for Christmas.  After that, they did close holidays and the place really closed in 2010. It has since reopened and maintains its previous elegance.

Interior of Weidmann's.
Interior of Weidmann’s.

One peculiarity, they didn’t serve bread unless you ordered it.  Instead, on every table was a hand made crock of homemade peanut butter with a stack of crackers.  I have one of the crocks at home, but alas, the peanut butter is gone.  They are known for the original black bottom pie.  I have the recipe.  Let’s just say that bourbon is featured prominently in the recipe.

Weidmann's famous black bottom pie.
Weidmann’s famous black bottom pie.

From Meridian, I headed west on I 20 to Pulaski, MS, so named for the revolutionary war general. This was my dad’s birthplace and he grew up there and went to school in a one room school house where his mother was the teacher.  My paternal grandparents lived “out of town” from Pulaski on Searcy Hill in a dog trot house built in 1885 by my dad’s grandfather.

Paternal grandparents' dog trot house built in 1885 and the birthplace of my dad, Uncle Ray and Aunt Sue.
Paternal grandparents’ dog trot house built in 1885 and the birthplace of my dad, Uncle Ray and Aunt Sue.

For those who don’t know, a dog trot house is built with a long hallway open to air with rooms on either side.  There was always a breeze through the opening and dogs liked the coolness and shade, thus the name. The house had three fire places and the kitchen had a wood burning stove. The outhouse was a two seater and toilet paper was corn cobs from that year’s harvest.

I always wondered why we never had hot food when I visited on weekends.  Much later, I realized how smart grandmother was.  She got up at 4 am and cooked all three meals of the day before the sun rose – trust me, you don’t want to use a wood burning stove in the summer!

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Sign for Searcy Cemetery on Searcy Hill.
Sign for Searcy Cemetery on Searcy Hill.
Parents' graves in Searcy Cemetery.
Parents’ graves in Searcy Cemetery.
My paternal grandparents first child who died at childbirth.
My paternal grandparents first child who died at childbirth.

I then traveled 481 north to Morton where I spent most of my formative years. I stopped at the Morton Cemetery to see my maternal relatives.

Main Street, Morton, MS..
Main Street, Morton, MS..
My maternal grandparents' graves.
My maternal grandparents’ graves.

The last stop in Morton was the most important in relation to this trip. As a kid, my parents,off and on, lived with my grandmother after my grandfather died, or I was always sleeping there with my grandmother even though we had our own house.

My maternal grandparents house in Morton, MS next to highway 80.
My maternal grandparents house in Morton, MS next to highway 80.

I would lay awake there at night and listen to the transfer trucks roar westward on highway 80 which fronts the house.  This was before Mississippi had any interstates and highway 80 was, at the time, the only highway that ran from the east coast to the west coast.  You can imagine the traffic on this two lane road!

Then there’s the story of me and my cousin Jimmie getting “arrested” by the chief of police, Lauris Sessums, for playing in the highway.

I used to dream of pulling out of my grandmother’s driveway one day and heading west to New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oregon and Washington. I can tell you this was the beginning of my trip today.  Now I get to attempt my dream.

With the graveyard visits, the “official” start of my trip, and getting to see my brother Archie, his wife Tanis, and a surprise visit with my niece Ashley, it’s been an emotional, yet satisfying day.

Tanis prepared a wonderful dinner for us all with Archie doing the ribs on the grill. Later, we watched the local Brandon Bulldogs lose to the visiting Clinton Arrows by a touchdown, thanks to the Internet and live streaming of the game.  Small town America is now high tech!

Cross Country Tour – Day 1

29 August 2016

The day started with finishing up little things around the house: take out the garbage, final wash of clothes, put clean sheets on the bed for my return, fasten the hurricane shutters.  It was the last one that nearly got me.  I cleaved my skull with one of the Bahama shutters (just joking) but it hurt anyway.

I pulled out of the driveway at 11:20 am and made it to Haines City then Allen David Broussard Catfish Creek Preserve State Park (it has to be the longest name for a park) and pitched camp after a 2.3 mile hike into the campsite.  It was supposed to only be 1.7 but my Garmin GPS says otherwise.

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The trail is mostly fine sand road bed which makes for difficult walking. Fortunately it had rained earlier in the day and the sand was a little more compact than usual.  Several hikers have written this is the most difficult hike in Florida and I suspect the dry sugar sand would be a challenge. It certainly was a sweaty hike.

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One problem is the trail is marked but poorly and it is one of the more complicated systems I’ve run into.  My map said to begin with the red and white trail through markers 1, 2, 3, and 4. Then to shift to red and white trail markers 12, 11, 10, and 9.  Next follow the white and blue trail to markers 24, 23, and 21 to campsite 1.  Most of the markers were not numbered and you could not tell when the trail forked where the next marker would be. In spite of all odds, I found the campsite.

Just before the campsite I dropped my pack and walked to the ridge line of the Lake Wales Ridge.  It was a nice panoramic view from the top.  This is where you will need to come when the sea rises as it was the only place not under water in previous high water eras.  The Lake Wales Ridge is sometimes referred to as islands, which they were when Florida was under water.

At the top of the ridge is a monument to Allan David Broussard. He was a biologist and avid birder and it is a very nice memorial to him. Truth be told, I had never heard of him before. It is a little strange to see such a nice memorial in the middle of nowhere.

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Dinner tonight is Shepherd’s Potato Stew with Beef.  Just add boiling water and yum.  I suspect I’ll hear thunder all night and frogs croaking their mating calls.

Home sweet home!
Home sweet home!