The Little Red Schoolhouse

My mother's family has roots that date back to the 1800's in Holmes County, Mississippi, where Lexington is the county seat. And with relatives in Holmes County, as well as in neighboring Attala County, we often traveled there to see relatives during my childhood. It was during one of these trips that I first recall seeing the marker that directs travelers to "The Little Red Schoolhouse," a Mississippi landmark, just off Highway 14 near Richland, Mississippi. The cornerstone for the planned two story brick structure was laid in October of 1847, shortly after Masonic Lodges in Holmes County had raised over $3,000 for its construction. Although the original name for the school was to be the Richland Literary Institute, the name was changed to Eureka Masonic College shortly after its construction. In addition to being one of many privately endowed educational institutions that were built to address inadequate education in Mississippi during the 1800's, "The Little Red Schoolhouse" is also known as the birthplace of The Order of the Eastern Star. The historic building is now owned by the Grand Chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star in Mississippi and is maintained in the honor of Dr. Robert Morris, the school's first headmaster and the author of the Order's ritual.

Reference:

Must See Mississippi, 50 Favorite Places by Mary Carol Miller, Mary Rose Carter, Greg Iles, Published by University of Mississippi Press, 2007

The Dark Corner of Possumneck

Something that makes Mississippi special is that a few of its towns have rather unique, and often even strange-sounding names, such as D'Lo, Egypt, Hot Coffee, Itta Bena, and Yazoo City, and any number of others that I won't list here today. Now this is not to say that each of these towns doesn't have a specific and often even an historical reason for its name. This scenario is actually no different for other cities in the United States, or, for that matter, the rest of the world. But a few Mississippi towns may have names that qualify as "one of a kind."

Take Possumneck, for instance. Now you may not have heard of Possumneck. In fact, not every Mississippian even knows about Possumneck. But I would wager that almost everyone who has lived for any length of time in Attala County knows exactly where Possumneck is located. This community got its name from the shape of the area of wooded bottom land that it covered. And yes, it probably did have a rather substantial marsupial population that roamed its dense woods over a hundred years ago. Maybe it still does.

Apart from its rather strange-sounding name, Possumneck was well-known for another reason. It was in this area of Attala County around the turn of the 20th century that a few of the county's less than "reputable" businesses decided to set up shop. And it was for this reason that Possumneck also became known as "Dark Corner." Because the timber business was thriving in that area of Attala county in the early 1900's, the community known as Possumneck eventually grew large enough to maintain a post office. But when the Great Depression caused sawmills in the area to shut down, the less than reputable businesses that no longer had paying customers also closed their doors or moved on to more profitable locations across the Big Black River. The post office soon closed, and today Possumneck is but an extinct town with only a blurred memory of its somewhat colorful past.

"Who Do You Think You Are?"

No, I am not reminiscing about the pop tune with a similar line or am I trying to be, as my dear mother would say, "smart." It's the name of the new genealogy reality show scheduled to air on April 20th on NBC, back-to-back with Dancing With The Stars, which appears on another network.

The show, a take-off on a successful BBC show, will be produced by Lisa Kudrow, of Friends fame, and her production company, Is or Isn't Entertainment. The family trees of Kudrow, who is said to have Polish ancestry, along with actresses Susan Sarandon and Sarah Jessica Parker, will be the subjects of the first show of the series. Subsequent airings, I understand, will feature the ancestries of other celebrities. Although genealogy research has come into its own and has grown in popularity by leaps and bounds during the past decade or more, this show will almost certainly peak the interest of many new family history researchers. You can read more about the show here.

A Downtown High School

I attended high school in "downtown" Jackson in the 1960s. As far as I know, in those days, Jackson only had a "downtown." In years past, the area around North State Street where a few old houses from the antebellum era still stand, may have been called "uptown." But during the 1960s, when we said "downtown," we meant East Capitol Street. The downtown area began at the Illinois Central Train Station, where "fast" trains left Jackson going north to Memphis and South to New Orleans, and continued for slightly less than a mile uphill to the Old Capitol Building. City buses used the railroad station as a transfer point for shuttling passengers east to the downtown area or west to other businesses and homes.

Downtown Jackson was home to a variety of large department stores such as Montgomery Ward, J. C. Penney, and the local Kennington's Department Store. Five-and-dime stores, like Woolworth, Kress, and H. L. Green were all situated near the center of the street and well within two blocks of each other. Downtown Jackson was also home to several large old hotels, the kind with richly appointed lobbies, where chandeliers lighted the way to ballrooms that hosted wedding receptions and other large gatherings. These hotels all had impressive-sounding names like The Heidelberg, The King Edward, and The Walthall.

Deposit Guaranty Bank's tall building, on the north side of the street, next to H. L. Green, was a landmark in downtown, as was the Standard Life Building with its clock on top, and the ivy-covered St. Andrews Episcopal Church next door. Several jewelry stores, a furniture store, and a few local restaurants, including Primos, the Mayflower Cafe, and the "Pig Stand," a local lunch place and after school hangout, completed the assortment of businesses that lined both sides of the street. In the 1960s, Capitol Street was a thriving urban shopping area, with the exception of a few surburban strip shopping malls, such as Maywood Mart and Westland Plaza.

Downtown Jackson actually had two high schools in the 1960s, St. Peter's Catholic School and Central High School. Murrah and Provine were the other Jackson high schools, but each was located several miles away from downtown and nearer to residential neighborhoods that were home to growing families. St. Peter's and Central were just across the street from Smith Park, a public park in the middle of downtown Jackson that is still one of the few publicly-owned parks in the nation. Since we had limited space and no athletic complex, it was in Smith Park that high school "gym" classes went to play softball and to run. Girls' athletics were much different in the 1960s, at least in our school, and intramural sports were limited to boys only. We were in a beautiful location, one where we could see the New Capitol Building on one side of the park and the grounds of the Governor's Mansion on the other. Woolfolk State Office Building, one of the tallest buildings in downtown, could be seen in the distance.

Central High School also was the home to high school Army ROTC, the only high school program of its kind in Jackson. It was on the large front lawn at Central that some of these ROTC students got their first taste of the military before going on to serve their country in Vietnam. Unfortunately, a few of those same students also lost their lives.

Just outside the high school's band hall was the entrance to the Greyhound Bus Station, a place that became well-known during the sit-ins, marches, and riots that became part of downtown Jackson's history and culture during the 1960s. For obvious reasons, the bus station was off limits to students. Our campus was a closed campus, with no privileges that allowed seniors to leave campus during the day, unless we were going to after school jobs or home. Jackson was going through some turbulent times during those years, and national news networks had cameras set up on every corner. Even the threat of suspension and possible expulsion, however, did not prevent some of my classmates from attempting to get themselves into pictures that could have made the six o'clock news.

But June of that year finally arrived, and almost 300 of the so-called "Baby Boomer" generation graduated. Little did we know how much our lives and the lives of those around us would change over the course of the next fifty years.

Becoming a City Girl

Left: Downtown Jackson as seen from the rooftop of the 308 Electric Building. (Photo courtesy of Natalie Maynor.)


I didn't realize it when it was happening, but I was very much a "country girl" for the first nine years of my life. City life was non-existent in the Mississippi Delta, at least in the town of only 455 people where we lived. It was not until we moved from the Mississippi Delta to Jackson when I was nine years old that I got my first taste of city life.

We initially lived in a rental house in Richland, Mississippi, southeast of Jackson, while my parents looked for a house to buy. Richland is located in a heavily wooded area of tall pine trees, and at that time, the town still had a "rural" feel to it. It was a long way away from becoming a "city." Many years later now, my brother and his wife have raised their family in that same town. Needless to say, it is somewhat larger and more sophisticated today than when we were in elementary school. Ironically, my nieces and nephew graduated from the same school their father and I attended, and before school each morning, so my newphew told me, students continue the tradition of ringing the old school bell, just as we did, that still sits in its original location on the school's front lawn. Traditions, like this one, are among the many things I treasure about my home state.

In September of the year we moved, my brother and I found out just how rural the area was, when we rode on a school bus for the very first time in our lives. Although we were not sophisticated ourselves, we certainly didn't act like some of the other children who rode that bus. The first morning, we received the "new kid" experience, when a boy on the bus shot corn kernels at us, using a homemade slingshot that was popular with young boys back then. Welcome to the neighborhood, and welcome to fourth grade!

I really don't remember much about our house, school, or neighborhood during the few months we lived there, except that my dad was sick with pneumonia that first month, and we had a goldfish pond in the front yard. I also remember that my teacher, Mrs. Haddon, gave each of her 20-odd students, including me, a small framed picture of herself for Christmas. I thought this was slightly odd; it certainly was not the type of Christmas gift I had expected. I haven't seen Mrs. Haddon since that fourth grade Christmas party, but I still have her picture.

The Richland experience lasted only until the Christmas Holidays of fourth grade. During the Christmas break, in early January, my family moved into the house in northwest Jackson that I would call home until I graduated from high school. It was there that I began life as a "city girl."

The Ever-Lovin' Kate Adams - Part II

Several months ago, I wrote a post on my original blog Attala County Memories about the Kate Adams, a steamer that traveled down the Mississippi River in the early 1920's, and one on which my paternal grandfather, Clark Commander Branch, worked for a time. A photograph of the steamer, from the American Postal Museum, courtesy of the Smithsonian Photography Initiative, appears here. According to other information posted there, the steamer was actually built in 1882 to be used as a U. S. Mail Steamboat on the Mississippi River.

On Tuesday of this week, I received an email from a reader in Ohio who was searching for information out on the web about the Kate Adams, and she found my post. Here is an excerpt from her email:

"I was surprised and pleased to see your information on the Kate Adams Riverboat. My grandparents were co-owners of a road construction company that built many roads in the area of Marietta, Ohio. They lived not far from the Ohio River and enjoyed seeing and hearing the boats, especially those with a calliope. Among their pictures from their road building days is one my dad took of an Ohio River boat. My grandmother had written the name of the boat on the back. I decided to try to find more about it on the internet. When I typed in its name, Kate Adams, it went right to your website. I was surprised to hear that it had started as a Mississippi Riverboat before coming to the Ohio. When I saw it had burned in 1927, I was even more surprised. Grandma wrote that the picture was taken in 1927. It may be the last picture of the Kate Adams. Do you know where it burned?"

Unfortunately, I did not know the answer to the reader's question. I had failed to find that piece of information myself before writing the post. So yesterday, I again searched for something that would reveal where the steamer burned. What I located is included in this post today.

According to The Arkansas City Journal, published in Arkansas City, Arkansas, on December 23, 1882 (Vol 4, No. 9), the Kate Adams made her maiden voyage from Memphis down the Mississippi River. An excerpt from the article states:

"AT THE LANDING As soon as she was made fast, people flocked on board in crowds, and all confessed that no prettier or more complete steamboat ever touched at this port. Her magnificent cabin was an especial theme of admiration. The whole boat, from pilot-house to the railway tracks in the hold, were carefully inspected and the verdict was She is a good one, and no mistake! LANGUAGE WOULD FAIL...were we to attempt a full recital of the beauties and excellencies of the bonnie Kate. Suffice it to say she is more than equal of any boat in the river in point of fittings, furnishings and equipment. Built at a cost of $95,000, she lacks absolutely nothing that goes to make up a literal floating palace. ROSTER OF OFFICERS All of the officers of the Dean Adams, except Steward Matson, were transferred to the new boat. Their long and faithful service in the line entitled them to this recognition, and certainly the patrons of the Dean will be glad to find on board the Kate Adams all their old friends. The roster is as follows: Mark R. Cheek, Master; A. L. Cummins, Chief Clerk; W. Outlaw, Second Clerk; A. L. Cummins, Jr., Bill Clerk; Henry Powers, Chief Mate; Thomas Kelly, Second Mate; Louis Botto, Chief Engineer; John Botto, Second Engineer; William Hopus, Pilot; Elisha Evins, Pilot; Frank Norris, Steward; Joseph Flynn, Barkeeper. Every one of them well known and deservedly popular in the trade."

Further searching led me to an article about the Kate Adams that appeared in the New York Times just a few years after her maiden voyage. The article detailed a serious fire with a number of fatalities that occurred at Commerce, a Mississippi River port just south of Memphis. Apparently, when the steamer suffered the fire in 1927 that sealed her eventual fate, she had already burned at least once before. Unfortunately, for a second time, I was unable to find the location of that fire.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

Too much icy precipitation and too many low-lying clouds prevented me from getting a really good picture for posting here today, but the scene is almost the same as this one taken in early March of last year, just a week after we moved in. The big differences in today's picture would be landscaping and much more sleet and ice. From our windows, the trees in the distance look like a crystal forest. Last night's "winter mix" is the result of our fourth (and hopefully last) ice storm of the season.