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