Understanding a place like Mississippi

I’ve spent quite a bit of time swimming deep in the words Henry David Thoreau penned about Walden Pond and Rick Bragg’s colorful descriptions of Mobile Bay. 

I’ve not spent much time diving into the words of William Faulkner. His stream of consciousness writing style can be a bit confusing. “As I Lay Dying” has fifteen narrators? That’s too many, Bill. However, I recently came across a simple Faulkner passage: “to understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi.” In 2010, when I spent seven months living in the Magnolia State, I wouldn’t have understood that quote.

My first adult job was at The Magee Courier in Magee, Mississippi. I was 22 and living in a town of 4,000 strangers. All there was for me was the breakneck pursuit of storytelling, Braves’ games each night and a lot of Taco Bell. 

I spent my days hunting stories and interviewing coaches, police investigators, Vietnam War veterans and many more. I wrote at night. My homesickness won out after seven months, but I now think it was a matter of unfortunate timing as opposed to not liking Magee. What 22-year-old transitions well from The Strip in Tuscaloosa to the farmer’s market in Magee? 

When I comb through my saved articles, I’m often surprised by what I wrote about. Counterfeit $100 bills found at the city’s main bank? I don’t remember that. Dozens of arrest stories about burglaries, contraband and methamphetamine possession? No recollection. 

But I remember some things, and somehow I remember them clearer, now. 

I can’t remember a single time a person I needed to interview was late or rescheduled. I recall sitting at my kitchen table late into the night with a man who cooked ribs before and ran the down-and-distance marker during football games for two decades, save the year he endured 40 chemotherapy treatments. I remember stuffing what felt like a 100-pound watermelon in my car after an interview with a generous produce stand owner. 

I wanted to write something for the senior football players that October in a preview of their game against Mendenhall, a series dubbed the Simpson County Super Bowl. So, I interviewed all 21 of them and included all their names in a story. I heard recently that Magee won the 2020 state football championship — its first in 20 years — and I’m proud for that community. 

We are jaded sportswriters now, watching wheel routes from catered press boxes. In Magee, while I kept most of my own stats during the Trojans’ games, the head coach still wanted me to have the official numbers, so he left copies in my home mailbox each Saturday. Speaking of that home, I rented it from a wonderful couple for $500 per month, a steal for a three-bed, two-bath home with a large, shaded lot and a kitchen the size of the court at TD Garden. For that price in Tuscaloosa I could have lived in, well, my Honda. 

It was funny, looking back at those old articles I hardly remembered. But I still remembered the names, faces and places, as if they were all stuck in time. 

I suppose I understand now what Faulkner meant.

Gary Lloyd is the author of six books and is a contributing writer to the Cahaba Sun.