When my husband and I packed all of our belongings and our reluctant dog Lucy into a U-Haul in the middle of the summer in 2012, I was sure I could not be happy in Jackson. For a long time, I was right. I cried myself to sleep on many nights, wishing I was back in Nashville, and cursing the University Medical Center for being in the middle of this godforsaken (and inexcusably hot) state. At the time, we were living on Jefferson Street, just across the way from Fenian’s Pub and it was there, amid the terrible karaoke covers of “Crazy Train” and the permeating and never-wash-outable smell of french fries and grease, that I crawled out of my house found home. I could, for the first time in my life, actually sit at the bar (but NOT at the corner underneath the freezing air vent), and have Jimmy pour me an ice cold Budweiser, and really relax. I made friends with the regulars, attended pub quiz weekly, and decided, in short, to shut the hell up about Jackson and let some real Jacksonians show me what the city was all about. And Jackson, as it turned out, was not so bad a place after all.
About a year later, with a much fuller and happier social life, we packed up the dog, the U-Haul, and a new cat named Judy the Booty, and moved just a few streets down to a quieter section of the Belhaven neighborhood. Just a street away from Belhaven University, our little home is surrounded by ancient oak trees and quiet neighbors, but sadly no Fenians within walking distance (not comfortable tipsy walking distance that is). But then God smiled upon the already amazing Fairview Inn, just around the corner from our house, and decided to bestow upon it a book-themed lounge stocked with leather armchairs and shelves of books everywhere. Oh thank you Jesus for this place. Just the way Fenian’s wrapped me up in the gritty, unrefined side of Jackson that I was itching for, The Library has enveloped me in an incredible sense of community. For the first time since I was a little girl, I not only know my neighbors’ names, I am friends with them. We meet each other at The Library to catch up, to watch movies on the back patio, and to commiserate with Tony- who in my opinion is the greatest bartender who every walked this earth. (Seriously, I waited out the last tornado in The Library with my dog -The Library is dog friendly- and Tony called me after I walked home to make sure I hadn’t been blown away.)
I suppose it might be strange that the two places that helped me to put my finger onto the living, beating pulse of Jackson are bars, but really, isn’t a bar one of the best places to fall in love with a city? And I have fallen in love. An unlikely, unexpected, unorthodox love with an unlikely, often forgotten city. One day I will leave this place, I know. But for now, this is home. Let’s pour one out for Jackson.
Written by Hannah
Jackson: photographs by Ken Murphy is available now for purchase. To order a copy, call Lemuria Books at 601.366.7619 or visit us online at lemuriabooks.com. Please join us in celebrating Jackson on August 5th at 5:00 in Banner Hall!
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