T Campbell's Blog

My five-day trip (long post! Beware):

Met up with Daddy at Baltimore-Washington International and went on from there. My father and I have a great relationship-- we share so many common interests and have very similar approaches to life. It's almost like we're the same age sometimes.

Got down to Granddaddy's old house in time to determine the security system wasn't working. Granddaddy passed eleven years ago, but Daddy and his sisters have a lot of fond memories tied up in that place and get back every so often.

In all, we spent a couple of days cleaning up: raking leaves, clearing dead trees and branches, and vacuuming, vacuuming, vacuuming as many dusty, cobwebbed corners of the house as I could find. But Yazoo City was pretty far north and didn't take much damage. (Boy, talk about a town that looks better on its Website than in real life.)

The real disaster zone (well, that we saw) was further south, in Pascagoula. The whole town still smells like a mudpie, garbage is in front of almost every house, and the houses on the coast are almost completely destroyed. I made fun of Bush for talking about rebuilding Trent Lott's place while New Orleans was still drowning, but I have to admit its ruin is impressive. Daddy calls it "the Lott lot." There are a few bricks left, nothing more.

The one-man lawsuit machine Richard "Dickie" Scruggs also got his home demolished, which gives Aunt Mary Bet hope of actually seeing some money from her hurricane insurance. (Short version: insurers are making a fine distinction between "hurricane damage" and "flood damage" even though the hurricane *caused* the flooding. So we don't CALL it flooding any more, we call it "wind-driven water." If anyone can get them to pay up, Scruggs can.)

Mary Bet was in good spirits. The bottom floor of her house except her garage was almost destroyed, but not quite-- the structure remains. "It gives me an excuse to remodel," she says. "I kind of like it more open." Mary Bet lost her husband five years ago but her daughters still live close by and she seemed to draw strength from her family's presence.

I spent another day and a half at Mary Bet's-- vacuuming. "Find a need and fill it," that's me. Actually, it was kind of important. The real challenge these Mississippi homes face, the ones still standing anyway, is mold and mildew. Pascagoula practically invented humidity. So all the corners had to be clear of drywall and dust, as much as possible. Thirsty work without air conditioning-- we must have drunk a gallon of water each day.

Caught up with a lot of cousins and relatives I haven't seen in years-- looked at Mary Bet's new paintings, went out to a bar with Thomas and Larkin, discussed Thomas's ambitions in film, heard about Julian's new ministry, and appraised Rich's comic book collection. (He has a couple of single-digit Lee-Kirby-Ditko issues, so my appraisal was "yeah, valuable.")

Saw Bush's address with Colleen and Daddy. I was prepared to restrain my liberal views, considering where I was, but I was quite surprised to hear Bush sounding like a Clinton Democrat, throwing relief programs left and right. Will it help him politically? I sort of hope it does-- I'm no fan of Bush, but I want to see good behavior rewarded. How else will they learn?

Daddy and I discovered MRE main courses are actually pretty tasty. At least the ones we had were. I recommend the beef teriyaki.

Vegetarians may want to skip this paragraph. Daddy and I discovered a couple of great barbecue joints in and near his native Yazoo City. In one, I declared my intention to "eat the alphabet," trying one dish that represented every letter. I was inspired, y'see, because of the sign in the front saying "QUAIL TODAY." In another, we discovered a barbecue sauce with more of a vintage than some fine wines.

We went to Daddy's old church, Trinity Episcopal, which was holding a meeting about the Windsor Report (big PDF). Northerners might be surprised to see how this Mississippi church responds to the gay minister. On one hand, they are clearly anti-homosexuality without being anti-homosexual (love the sinner, hate the sin). On the other, even in the deep deep South, church attendance is not nearly what it was, and both liberals and conservatives have left because of the issue. This church cannot afford to lose any more members. Daddy's childhood friend Miller is right in the thick of it and bringing a lot of good sense to the process.

I haven't been entirely comfortable with the Episcopal church since my own favorite minister lost his job over the Windsor fracas. But I kind of hope Trinity manages to bounce back. It's a piece of Daddy and so it's a piece of me, and Miller is proof that good people still go there.

Back home now. Much to do. More updates soon.