From Alvin to Elvis

Upon arriving at Tupelo, Mississippi from Birmingham, Alabama we found that Elvis' birthplace was much better marked than Alvin's. It's a good thing too, as I'd hate to think of all those thousands of Elvis fans blindly swarming around the neighbourhood trying to find His birthplace!

The two room "shotgun" house
where Elvis was born in 1935.

It's called a "shotgun house" because the front and back doors are aligned to improve ventilation. A side benefit is that, if you-all are lucky, a shotgun blast can pass right through both doors without hitting anything. I suspect that the house where Alvin was born was an earlier model of this.

After all this genealogical research we were ready for some relaxation time so we drove the Natchez Trace. This is a 50 mph scenic road from Nashville, Tennessee to Natchez, Mississippi. It parallels the original wagon train route (trace) between the same two settlements in the 1700's and 1800's, and is the definition of "taking the scenic route" - no trucks, no billboards, no hurry. We picked it up in Tupelo and headed south.

Overhanging branches along the Natchez Trace

We saw this "crimson clover"....
over and over......

Arriving in Natchez, a Mississippi River town in southern Mississippi, we toured a few of the antebellum (pre-civil war) homes. They've still got a lot of them there. It was good to be rich in those days. Not so good to be poor, and especially poor and black. Most of the owners of these homes had several hundred, or even several thousand slaves to tend their cotton plantations across the river in Louisiana. At one count, there were 250 millionaires in Natchez pre-war. Post war there were probably none.

Longwood Plantation House

Now I know why bus drivers have that plexiglass behind them....

After an afternoon of antebellum viewing, it was off to the Riverboat Casino, conveniently located down the hill from our hotel. We took the hotel shuttle, one of those 30 or 40 passenger buses. At one of the stops, an elegant-looking woman got on. She was, oh, in her 70's or so, alone, and dressed rather formally in a full-length black skirt and using a walking cane. She had to put her purse on the first step of the bus to make it up the three or four stairs with her cane, but managed OK after a bit of a struggle on the first step. She even politely said "hello" to a woman in front who, in actuality, was saying "hello" to someone else on her cellphone. No matter. She sat down in the first row, right behind the driver.

When we reached the casino, yours truly, being a good boy-scout, figured that if I got off first, I could offer her my assistance as she disembarked. I waited at the foot of the stairs with my hand ready. She dropped her cane,but it was thoughtfully picked up by the cellphone woman and returned to her with a smile. She seemed to be having a bit of difficulty getting to her feet. The remaining passengers waited patiently. She got a couple of inches off the seat and then dropped back down. This was followed almost immediately by horizontal projectile vomit. Not once, but twice.

I chose the discrete part of valour and went off to alert security.

Now I know why bus drivers have that plexiglass screen thing behind their seats.

(Sorry, no photo)

Following in Grandpa Al's footsteps.

For the past two days, we have been following up the available facts we have regarding Dad's childhood in Birmingham and Montgomery. I'm very pleased to say that we have found out quite a bit! I can't wait to share it with Doug, Ted, and the rest of the family.

For the time being, here are a few photos.

From the age of 9, dad lived in the Masonic Home of Alabama (an orphanage) in Montgomery, Alabama. Although the original building has been removed and a nursing home constructed, now even the nursing home has been demolished. Some of the land had been sold to a school, and some to a church, but the majority of the land is an open field, with a couple of workshops. Beside the workshops are a few of the original cornerstones of the Masonic Home of Alabama. There were a few other relevant items as well that I photographed.

Dad attended the Cloverdale High School after finishing his elementary school at the Masonic Home. We found the original Cloverdale School about a half mile west of the Masonic Home. Surprisingly, it is still in much the same condition as it would have been in the 1930's when dad attended. It is now owned by Huntington College and is used as a sports extension of the college. You can still see the "Cloverdale School" above the door, as well as in several other places.

Prior to the move to Montgomery, dad lived in Birmingham. He states on a document that he was born on "Cottage Hill Road, Cottage Hill, Jefferson County, Alabama". As I suspected, Cottage Hill has been renamed Pleasant Grove, and Cottage Hill Road is now Pleasant Grove Road. We have no address for his original home, nor could I locate one in the Pleasant Grove archives, however we can say that we drove up his street!

This church "may" be where he attended school in grades 1to 3. The church's exterior has been redone in brick in the 1970's, but it did host a one room school in the early 1900's, and was the original "Frog Pond" church. Dad states that he attended Frog Pond School from grade 1 to 3.

In other news, today we visited Tupelo, Mississippi and the home where Elvis was born.

Memories of Sanibel Island

Just off the Gulf coast of Florida, near Ft. Meyers, is the lovely low-lying key of Sanibel. Half of it is a wildlife sanctuary mostly comprised of mangroves and tidal flats - a bird and fish magnet. We took a four mile driving tour and saw lots of the expected water birds and fish species.

After this tour, and in the 29C heat, we were ready to sample one of the several gulf beaches of Sanibel. This state seems to have an unlimited supply of superb beaches. This one had the usual fine sand but with lots of finely crumbled shells mixed in. Lots of shells under the waves too, but mostly firm clean sand.

After my swim I showered off and was waiting in the sun by a picnic table to dry off a bit before changing as I had not brought along a towel. It's been about six weeks since my last haircut, so I was fluffing it out in the sun to dry a bit quicker, half bending over when I heard a rustling of nearby dry leaves. Simultaneously, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this quick movement. Out of these leaves about two meters away a snake darted out and became entangled in my legs! Suddenly I was back-pedaling like mad, giving off primitive animal-like noises, flailing my arms and kicking out my legs like a crazy man possessed! Have you ever had your heart-rate go from 70 to 150 in two seconds flat? I nearly landed on my back, but just caught my balance in time. The whole episode only lasted maybe three or four seconds, but in that time I did see that it was a small black snake, maybe a meter or so long, but only about as thick as my little finger. Judging my my reaction, it seemed to be 5 meters long and as thick as my arm! Whoa, I haven't been that startled since Milt Stegall caught his famous touchdown! Somehow I managed to kick it off my leg. Where it ended up, I have no idea. Probably in the top of one of the nearby palm trees if the enthusiasm of my kicks are any indication!

A fellow nearby was looking at me as if I was about to turn into a demon. I said "It was a black snake - are they harmless?" He said "Yes, if they are black, they are". I said "Good. It scared the hell out of me!" He said, supressing a smile, "I thought it might have been a bee after you". I said, "I don't suppose you got a video of that, did you? That would have been pretty funny". "No, sorry" he said. And I definitely sensed that he was truly sorry that he hadn't. Me too.

Anyway, along comes Roni just about then, to catch the last of the conversation. "What's this about a snake?" she says. I wasn't going to tell her about this experience as my reaction to snakes would have seemed like an afternoon nap compared to hers. But, after explaining, even she could see the humour of what just happened.

Sanibel Island - you will remain in my memory forever.