Now that I've had a good night's sleep and a five hour nap the day before, I begin to think about the things I learned at Pass Christian.
Wendy told me about the new Pass Christian library.The previous library and all the books therein were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. For six years, the library was in a FEMA trailer until the government finally came through with the money to rebuild. They had to argue a bit to convince the city of what they really needed, like no carpeting!
This week the librarians were holding a book sale to raise money for a New Jersey library. Bless their hearts!
The librarians were so good to me, and today I give them the thanks I was too tired to give in yesterday's blogs.
Before I left, Sally insisted on giving me money to eat a good lunch before I left Pass Christian, but as I drove down the beach road, I realized if I ate anything after that night of insomnia, I would fall asleep at the wheel despite the double cappuccino I had that morning and the result would be a car accident. I tucked the money away and went on to Harrisburg.
Today, I felt fine.
I began today with a breakfast at the Waffle House. I know that's a greasy spoon restaurant, but every time I come south I crave a pecan waffle, plus it was easier to go to the Waffle House, which is next door, to get my morning tea than to run to the Motel 6 office to heat water for tea and oatmeal. (That's my story.)
Next I consulted with the clerk to find out what there was to do in Hattiesburg. She immediately suggested shopping, but shopping is one of the circles of Hell in my way of thinking. I told her I liked history. I wanted to know where the history museum was. She gave me instructions but one of the cleaning women told me that there was also an African American military history museum. Now that sounded interesting.
I went down Hardy Street toward both museums but instead was drawn to a huge cemetery. I love cemeteries. Within them lies the story of any city. I walked through and found grave after grave that spoke of love, sorrow and tragedy. Always sad are the graves of babies, especially when there are three or four. How did the mother cope? I noted that there were no male deaths there during the Civil War which I suppose means the dead soldiers were buried at some battlefield and never made it home.
There are stories there and some may well wind up in Black Coffee Fiction. My story "Snow" started when I visited a cemetery. http:blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com
While I was walking around the tombstones, I kept smelling something wonderful. What was it? But I drove on. I got to the downtown area but the cultural center was closed and I couldn't find the museum I wanted. I went on the historical district because there were signs all over directing me to it but it was only old houses with no information about any of them. I drove around a bit and wound up back at the cemetery.
Before I was quite there, I saw a family coming out of a fish establishment carrying bags. I took a closer look and realized besides fresh fish they sold po-boys. I pulled in beside the family and we got into a discussion about food. They told me the po-boys were wonderful. I took their advice to be polite (that's my story) and went in for lunch and got a catfish po-boy to go. The cook told me the best way to get to the museum and I was off again.
The museum was closed.
With a sigh I went back down Hardy Street to the cemetery to eat my po-boy but found out there was a playground adjacent with a picnic table. I ate my lunch then noticed across a field was a big building so I walked over to see what it was.
It was the Hattiesburg Public Library. Just know that this is one of the most amazing libraries I've been in and I've been in hundreds. Outside, it is brick, but inside there are winding marble staircases. There's a mural above the central part of the library that shows the history of the city. There's a tower that one can climb to get a panoramic view of the city. I've never seen such a large staff and this on a Saturday afternoon. There were so many computer stations I couldn't believe it. The Mississippi room had books by every Mississippi writer of fiction and non-fiction. Somebody must have donated a heap of money.
On my way back to the motel I inadvertently went over Highway 49 and had to go to the Bop custard stand where I bought a two scoop Snapper Turtle Sundae. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
And that's how I spent the last of the money given to me at the Pass Christian library. I never did eat any supper.
Wendy told me about the new Pass Christian library.The previous library and all the books therein were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. For six years, the library was in a FEMA trailer until the government finally came through with the money to rebuild. They had to argue a bit to convince the city of what they really needed, like no carpeting!
This week the librarians were holding a book sale to raise money for a New Jersey library. Bless their hearts!
The librarians were so good to me, and today I give them the thanks I was too tired to give in yesterday's blogs.
Before I left, Sally insisted on giving me money to eat a good lunch before I left Pass Christian, but as I drove down the beach road, I realized if I ate anything after that night of insomnia, I would fall asleep at the wheel despite the double cappuccino I had that morning and the result would be a car accident. I tucked the money away and went on to Harrisburg.
Today, I felt fine.
I began today with a breakfast at the Waffle House. I know that's a greasy spoon restaurant, but every time I come south I crave a pecan waffle, plus it was easier to go to the Waffle House, which is next door, to get my morning tea than to run to the Motel 6 office to heat water for tea and oatmeal. (That's my story.)
Next I consulted with the clerk to find out what there was to do in Hattiesburg. She immediately suggested shopping, but shopping is one of the circles of Hell in my way of thinking. I told her I liked history. I wanted to know where the history museum was. She gave me instructions but one of the cleaning women told me that there was also an African American military history museum. Now that sounded interesting.
I went down Hardy Street toward both museums but instead was drawn to a huge cemetery. I love cemeteries. Within them lies the story of any city. I walked through and found grave after grave that spoke of love, sorrow and tragedy. Always sad are the graves of babies, especially when there are three or four. How did the mother cope? I noted that there were no male deaths there during the Civil War which I suppose means the dead soldiers were buried at some battlefield and never made it home.
There are stories there and some may well wind up in Black Coffee Fiction. My story "Snow" started when I visited a cemetery. http:blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com
While I was walking around the tombstones, I kept smelling something wonderful. What was it? But I drove on. I got to the downtown area but the cultural center was closed and I couldn't find the museum I wanted. I went on the historical district because there were signs all over directing me to it but it was only old houses with no information about any of them. I drove around a bit and wound up back at the cemetery.
Before I was quite there, I saw a family coming out of a fish establishment carrying bags. I took a closer look and realized besides fresh fish they sold po-boys. I pulled in beside the family and we got into a discussion about food. They told me the po-boys were wonderful. I took their advice to be polite (that's my story) and went in for lunch and got a catfish po-boy to go. The cook told me the best way to get to the museum and I was off again.
The museum was closed.
With a sigh I went back down Hardy Street to the cemetery to eat my po-boy but found out there was a playground adjacent with a picnic table. I ate my lunch then noticed across a field was a big building so I walked over to see what it was.
It was the Hattiesburg Public Library. Just know that this is one of the most amazing libraries I've been in and I've been in hundreds. Outside, it is brick, but inside there are winding marble staircases. There's a mural above the central part of the library that shows the history of the city. There's a tower that one can climb to get a panoramic view of the city. I've never seen such a large staff and this on a Saturday afternoon. There were so many computer stations I couldn't believe it. The Mississippi room had books by every Mississippi writer of fiction and non-fiction. Somebody must have donated a heap of money.
On my way back to the motel I inadvertently went over Highway 49 and had to go to the Bop custard stand where I bought a two scoop Snapper Turtle Sundae. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
And that's how I spent the last of the money given to me at the Pass Christian library. I never did eat any supper.
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