Written by Mary Sellers

I recently returned to Jackson after having gone to college and subsequently staying an extra year in Oxford, MS. It was a strange return—I remember crying on the way home because of the empty room I was leaving behind, the memories that seemed to cease their glitter as soon as I removed all of my pictures from the walls. The room was bare, and I could see the thumbtack spots from my posters, the dust that had collected in the corners like small, grey clouds, my roommates’ faces.

But I moved, because deep down it was the right thing to do. I needed a fresh start because I wasn’t growing anymore in Oxford. I’d become stilted and a little depressed, and however much I still miss it, even now, it was just my time.

I was afraid of Jackson. Having grown up here, gone to school, and left, I never thought I’d be returning. Two years ago I would have literally laughed in your face. I’m only here for a year (well, that’s the plan, at least), but I was nonetheless terrified of losing myself, of becoming someone who I’d hate, who my Oxford self would hate. But instead, I found the warmth of friends, and for the entire first month, reconnected with some of my oldest acquaintances. I went to dinner, got lost in new places, and generally spent way too much money. But it was something I needed—a re-connection with the place I’d grown up in but never really experienced as an adult. It’s a completely different thing being old enough but young enough to enjoy the new Jackson. Luckily, I’m right in that sweet spot.

And to my surprise, it’s incredibly fun. The Fondren area in particular is astoundingly cool; the restaurants are innovative and young adult-friendly; the bars here give a few of my Oxford favorites a run for their money, even. I’ve embarrassed myself at Karaoke, I’ve gone to a street concert series, and I’ve sipped margaritas on the porch of Babalu, surrounded by people that I respect and admire. It’s a warm place, and vibrant, too.

I live alone, which I’ll admit has been an adjustment. But I wouldn’t trade my location for anything. I can skip across the street to McDade’s at any point during the day, which feels strangely nostalgic—I’ve never been able to walk to the grocery store before. The cashiers are coming to recognize me, even greet me, and I them. I take advantage of the plethora of coffee shops that are scattered around town. As a writer, I welcome a nice office filled with the nutty aroma of coffee beans and subdued keyboard typings. At night, I sit outside in my porch chair and listen to the shocking collection of cicadas around my house.

It’s still an adjustment, but I’m glad to say that Jackson is feeling more and more like home each and every day. It’s taken time, but thanks to a strong support group of friends, and my own desire to rediscover my hometown for all that she’s worth, I think I can finally say that I’m trying for happy.

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. Ken Murphy will be at Lemuria on Tuesday, December 23 at 11:00 to sign and personalize copies of Jackson. Don’t miss it! 

Written by Minnie Watson, curator of the Medgar Evers Historic House

For those visiting Mississippi, Jackson is fast becoming the most popular place to be in terms of good food, great entertainment, wonderful historical sites to see, and fantastic service–all delivered with warm welcomes and friendly smiles. How do I know this? Well, this is what I hear on a daily basis from tourists who visit the Medgar Evers Historic House. No matter what state or country they call home, they tell me, “People in Jackson are some of the friendliest people we’ve ever met. Everybody speaks to you, give directions as to the best places to eat, shop and sites you need to visit.” They usually end their comments with “This is my first time in Jackson but it certainly won’t be my last.” I simply smile and say, “We’ll welcome you with open arms and a big smile.” When the Medgar Evers’ Historic House opened its doors to visitors some 17 years ago, one could not have not imagined nor understood the impact that this modest house, home to Medgar, his wife, and their three children, would have not just on Jackson and Mississippi, but the entire world.

As curator of this Historic House, it has been my pleasure to welcome visitors from basically every State in the United States and other countries as well as. I cannot tell you the impact that this position has had in my life. People come to see where “Medgar Wiley Evers, Field Secretary for the Mississippi NAACP, lived and died.”  Contrary to what they may have heard about Mississippi in general and Jackson in particular, while  visiting the House they get a chance to see the South, Mississippi, and Jackson through my eyes and experience, as one who has lived in Mississippi all of my life.  We share experiences, both good and bad, that happened during our growing up in a world perplexed with many problems. We usually come to the agreement that no matter what state we lived in, problems existed then and still do in some form or fashion. The difference, perhaps, is how we dealt and/or deal with the problems. As curator, I cannot tell you how many repeaters I have welcomed to Jackson and to the Evers House. As time goes on, I am sure there will be many, many more in the future. After all, Jackson’s “Welcome Mat” is always out and the Medgar Evers Historic House doors are always open.

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. 

As I thumbed through Ken Murphy’s Jackson book, I was initially confused at the photo for Millsaps.  While I was a student there, the observatory wasn’t used often.  Occasionally, a campus-wide email would announce that the observatory would be open for viewing some lunar/ stellar/ otherwise spacey event, but I never managed to show up.  And when I think of Millsaps, my iconography of the college revolves around other structures:  the Christian Center, the Academic Complex, the bell tower.

I didn’t understand Ken’s reasoning behind the observatory being the representative image of the college.  But, since I have an English degree from Millsaps, I thought.

At the risk of sounding too metacognative, I thought about all of the thinking I did while I was there.  [Metacognative:  thinking about one’s thinking.  A word I learned at Millsaps.]  One of the texts I read my freshman year was Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” (thank you, Dr. Wilson) in which the philosopher challenges the idea that seeing something means it is absolutely true.  When the poet John Milton met Gallieo, Milton’s understanding of what is versus what he could see was expanded beyond his own failing eyesight (thank you, Dr. Page).   Despite my status as a WASP male, I was able to read and understand writers like Alain Locke (thank you, Dr. Smith) and Toni Morrison (thank you, Dr. MacMaster) and Palo Frerie (thank you, Dr. Middleton).  I was introduced to Eudora Welty’s writing, and her stories have stuck with me like a kind memory (thank you, Dr. Marrs).  With my minor in secondary education, I was given insight into the way students learn best (thank you, Dr. Schimmel, Dr. McCarty) and how to effectively transmit instruction to them (thank you, Dr. Vaughn, Dr. Garrett).  I learned to see both broadly and tightly, to make connections between ideas and people that, at first glance, might be worlds apart.  There is only one story that’s been written over and over and over again, and that story is the weird journey of humanity (thank you, Dr. Miller).  So many of my professors forced me to think about things I had never considered, to look at things in a way that wasn’t easy or natural for me, and to understand that my view of the world isn’t the only way of seeing things.

It turns out, Ken was right.  Observatories allow us to look beyond ourselves, to see what we normally wouldn’t be able to, just like Millsaps did for me.

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. 

Written by Richard D. deShazo, MD, a Billy S. Guyton Distringuished Professor, and professor of Medicine and Pediatrics at the University Medical Center. Dr. deShazo hosts a weekly radio health and wellness show on MPB stations throughout the state called “Southern Remedy”. 

We came to Jackson and the University of Mississippi Medical Center after having lived in many other locations; including Washington, DC, Denver, CO, Birmingham and Mobile, AL, as part of my career as a physician educator, administrator, and researcher. The first thing we noticed about Jackson was the extraordinary hospitality of strangers we received at almost every turn. My wife was startled when she was tapped on the back by a stranger in the grocery store while she was searching for a grocery item. When she turned, fearing she was going to be accosted as would have been the case in other locations, she was met with a big smile from another customer who said, “Honey, can I help you find something? I have been shopping here forever.” This was something we had never experienced. When we visited churches, we felt welcome in every one immediately.

One of our initial roles was to recruit new faculty to UMC, and during the time I was a department chair here, we assisted over 60 new families in coming to Jackson to serve in various medical roles at UMMC. Their experiences were always similar to ours, and we never feared sending them into the community for a sampling of what life was like here because they were always pleasantly surprised.  It was easy to recruit people to jobs at UMMC once we got them here to see what a great place Jackson is to live.

As each day goes by, we discover new, interesting things about Mississippi. The convenient location and the hospitality and diversity of folks in the Delta, the pinelands, the coast, and of course, the greater Ole Miss community in the northeast are unique to our state. As the saying goes, our family was not born in Mississippi, but we got here as soon as we could.

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.