tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48826325517100758802024-02-19T20:25:12.895-06:00Won't Take Nothing But a MemoryCristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-57748161524354078662017-03-28T18:51:00.001-05:002017-04-14T18:25:28.879-05:00Falling for Switzerland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I still have to pinch myself when I think about having international colleagues and friends because of my Daddy's work! The fact that the medical research of a son of the Mississippi Delta, born in Louise, MS in 1929, is being continued by a team of researchers all over the world, still excites me! Ever since first learning about this research on <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Upshaw%E2%80%93Schulman_syndrome"><span style="color: lime;"><b>Upshaw Schulman Syndrome</b></span></a> (<a href="http://deltamemories.blogspot.com/2012/04/roundtrip-between-delta-and-bern.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">read more here</span></a>) and my first visit to Switzerland in 2014 (<a href="http://deltamemories.blogspot.com/2014/09/cristie-goes-to-bern.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">read more here</span></a>) I have stayed in touch with the team of researchers.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bern team: Johanna, Magdelena, Monica, Irmela, Isabella</td></tr>
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I always thought that my 2014 trip to Switzerland was a "once in a lifetime" trip. But, low and behold, I was wrong! Thanks to Johanna I had my second trip of a lifetime to Switzerland in February to attend the 61st Annual Meeting of the Society of Thrombosis and Hemostasis Society. Johanna served as President of the congress (as they call the meeting) which was taking place 20 years after the ADAMTS13 and TTP ADAMTS13 deficiency, both related to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Upshaw%E2%80%93Schulman_syndrome"><span style="color: lime;"><b>Upshaw Schulman Syndrome</b></span></a>! And this time I, literally, fell for Switzerland and all the researchers not only focused on Upshaw Schulman Syndrome, but other blood disorders as well.<br />
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Just so you know, I had some official duties at the congress; photographer and celebrity (LOL). <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrity shot with Reinhard (Germany) and Gyorgy (Hungary)</td></tr>
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It was surprising to me how many people wanted their picture taken with the daughter of Jefferson Davis Upshaw, MD! That took me by surprise, but I was especially glad that so many of them were young researchers. Daddy's work is being continued by a special group of people and I am blessed to have met them.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/FmfvUQtdew8/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FmfvUQtdew8?feature=player_embedded" style="clear: right; float: right;" width="320"></iframe>Here are some pictures from my time at the meeting and then the trip Johanna and I took to the Netherlands after the congress. Oh, and by the way, I did literally fall while at the Basel Munster. Broke my wrist; experienced the Swiss health care system; continued on to the Netherlands; came back to Memphis and had surgery with a plate and screws. But, that all pales in comparison to my trip and I am so glad I stayed and had the "second trip of a lifetime".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I spent my first night in a small hotel not far from the Limmat River in Zurich, Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Padlock bridges are numerous in Europe, including the Muhlesteg Bridge over the Limmat River in Zurich. Lovers secure a padlock engraved with their initials, names, or wedding date. Tradition has it that they then throw the key into the river symbolizing that their love is forever and can never be unlocked.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch on the Rhine in Basel, Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rhine at Basel, Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wooden ferry pulled across the Rhine by the current. Runs to the Basel Munster</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approach to the Basel Munster, Basel, Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Basel Munster, Basel, Switzerland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basel Munster window that distracted me enough to fall and, well, the rest is history<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headed to Amsterdam, with a little extra padding to protect my arm</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took a boat tour on the canals upon arriving in Amsterdam</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johanna and I stayed on a houseboat on the Waalseilands canal in Amsterdam</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View looking out the living room window on the houseboat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkh-2J1158WLvrNQH18tcQZ40527_dgdRmZ3_le8HI5lkmR1vEjRoVmSo_6QSkWzi6fX0tlcuS0PLy7naV_Ha9vNLnNEIgg-r5AiWKRbaNuf-mDioE03DXggdVlqikNmI7fmb_8H-M8Vg3/s1600/Amsterdam+shopping+arcade+-+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkh-2J1158WLvrNQH18tcQZ40527_dgdRmZ3_le8HI5lkmR1vEjRoVmSo_6QSkWzi6fX0tlcuS0PLy7naV_Ha9vNLnNEIgg-r5AiWKRbaNuf-mDioE03DXggdVlqikNmI7fmb_8H-M8Vg3/s640/Amsterdam+shopping+arcade+-+1.jpg" width="512" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful, old shopping arcades line the canals. And yes, we traveled through the red-light district and<br />
noticed wafts of marijuana as we walked through the streets of Amsterdam</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5rVVhoBaM5KKjMcpFakElSKJUnUMGEKtinY7Mp_wfiqeP7Vw7CAvSGXTUpKxGjZNT67eBWueajZwMVZth9wZqbei7NzNL-Pw1ui7KMshICwrwy_vKbK3gAkn10vQrMD4iAw-u0YASAmp/s1600/sheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5rVVhoBaM5KKjMcpFakElSKJUnUMGEKtinY7Mp_wfiqeP7Vw7CAvSGXTUpKxGjZNT67eBWueajZwMVZth9wZqbei7NzNL-Pw1ui7KMshICwrwy_vKbK3gAkn10vQrMD4iAw-u0YASAmp/s640/sheep.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheep dot the Dutch countryside, especially on our ride to windmill country</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgph0AuaWRogq3-gtlplkjq2n8FvcYR4I9qxC0gmHYwOEHs9Gc9r7vbFN-PZdD5OpWcKzn6xVJqGzkDv5YWOaww_lH1BIeZ6jGZol5pK_iMxJMOTL5dHrDUORk61Rp64CRZRVyGac15ZFi1/s1600/foggy+country+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgph0AuaWRogq3-gtlplkjq2n8FvcYR4I9qxC0gmHYwOEHs9Gc9r7vbFN-PZdD5OpWcKzn6xVJqGzkDv5YWOaww_lH1BIeZ6jGZol5pK_iMxJMOTL5dHrDUORk61Rp64CRZRVyGac15ZFi1/s640/foggy+country+road.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headed to windmill country on a misty Dutch morning</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfbKiBmzoR2NSdem2RST8wTnZSEMQMXzR_NaJGBcE35Ob0ag5Hxt1DhQVXNwbUA6SRl5Er9AfpQwQfOkST_S0Af25-JXTGu6h_5XLoqoA6lNXdV05OhicIE0oSCBrhsUz7kEQwEcMevDN/s1600/big+windmill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfbKiBmzoR2NSdem2RST8wTnZSEMQMXzR_NaJGBcE35Ob0ag5Hxt1DhQVXNwbUA6SRl5Er9AfpQwQfOkST_S0Af25-JXTGu6h_5XLoqoA6lNXdV05OhicIE0oSCBrhsUz7kEQwEcMevDN/s640/big+windmill.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinderdijk, Holland</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznrv_D8V_yAgwKrSRp-zSTTjU01l2_yKDFI5g3t5UZMpqeetv6lVgNHhWtj97C-elQCRLHK6qMylIY7e5vrQEufGz7fkolrmiMJlIway1QssuO21uyRvKDEpW6KYkuQByqnICOQApKc3_/s1600/windmills+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznrv_D8V_yAgwKrSRp-zSTTjU01l2_yKDFI5g3t5UZMpqeetv6lVgNHhWtj97C-elQCRLHK6qMylIY7e5vrQEufGz7fkolrmiMJlIway1QssuO21uyRvKDEpW6KYkuQByqnICOQApKc3_/s640/windmills+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Kinderdijk, Holland</span></td></tr>
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-4068820519589645342015-07-09T05:53:00.001-05:002015-07-09T05:53:48.877-05:00Closer to the Ring<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jDq9SxWiqhCpU2z_Fi2CKLA2z9tSUNaU5hn3zdbdXce8x8qB8CUXDbyY7rE9vnoWR9y488WIHVKBXXQiPfNO-JKntQdJWiDeY6tmh-ngwmyW3RpqT50_AFRQFh5GNULarfnXQy7Mqw-5/s1600/Final+Closer+to+the+Ring+Swamp+Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jDq9SxWiqhCpU2z_Fi2CKLA2z9tSUNaU5hn3zdbdXce8x8qB8CUXDbyY7rE9vnoWR9y488WIHVKBXXQiPfNO-JKntQdJWiDeY6tmh-ngwmyW3RpqT50_AFRQFh5GNULarfnXQy7Mqw-5/s640/Final+Closer+to+the+Ring+Swamp+Life.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-90308324893134324862014-10-12T20:04:00.001-05:002014-10-13T08:03:03.290-05:00Celebrating BirthdaysThis was a pivotal birthday year for me so please forgive the personal nature of this post.<br />
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Although I am sure this will surprise many of you (LOL), I turned 60 in August. And, believe it or not, it was not the birthday that has bothered me the most.<br />
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That birthday was when I turned 40! Now, to defend my self, my 40th year was a HUGE year in my life. Consider this:<br />
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<ul>
<li>I had just become a Mother 5 years before and that changed everything for me. All of sudden it would matter to someone, so small and helpless, that I was alive and there for them for the next 20+ years!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJAWpsiABY1-HNwwloXs1rif5_NuzKi6EYo3QF9GQ3u2EFIPnCt58rxE_9jhH2NEocgdt22LAbxUgg1YIWtAixgW-f68NDLrAp2NfQNfEYW4-BuIYIsAe8nU5zK9S5ltwekQOoqlD7rjt/s1600/Lee+Travis+Baby+PIctures+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJAWpsiABY1-HNwwloXs1rif5_NuzKi6EYo3QF9GQ3u2EFIPnCt58rxE_9jhH2NEocgdt22LAbxUgg1YIWtAixgW-f68NDLrAp2NfQNfEYW4-BuIYIsAe8nU5zK9S5ltwekQOoqlD7rjt/s1600/Lee+Travis+Baby+PIctures+003.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lee Hall Travis (and Minnie)</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>We had decided to move back home to Memphis leaving our best friends of 10 years behind. We had all had our babies together and now they would have lives together that didn't include us and we would be so far away. </li>
<li>I had taken a new job where I would be the one "in charge". It was about time, but I had no idea what I was really doing! I learned it quickly. My experience working with mentors, including Carol Moore, taught me what to do. But it was stressful and I knew that I had a lot to do and a lot to learn!</li>
</ul>
So much change in one year and add to that that turning 40 means you are not just over the hill (which happens at 30) you are way over the hill but not old enough to be revered and respected for the fact that you are still holding it together. You are just expected to be getting it done and, well, that is what I did.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbX3ELLSpZVLFNWq0TiptN1-V3hKezeS4ZbLmVJFHBPbaKCt1RbgmUkaLcXVdBp2enKprJWIflnF3kRIb0VWG9F2-9pFUSsMoHiAh_mp8hLGviQcMYTVP4PHb1fxdTqzVcPdQUVTByK2A/s1600/The+Graduate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbX3ELLSpZVLFNWq0TiptN1-V3hKezeS4ZbLmVJFHBPbaKCt1RbgmUkaLcXVdBp2enKprJWIflnF3kRIb0VWG9F2-9pFUSsMoHiAh_mp8hLGviQcMYTVP4PHb1fxdTqzVcPdQUVTByK2A/s1600/The+Graduate.jpg" height="315" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lee Hall Travis, the proud BSC graduate, 2012</td></tr>
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Turning 50 was, on the other hand, a celebration. I had found my stride at work and at home. 10 years on the job and I had figured it out that I had to keep us fresh, relevant, and moving the market forward.<br />
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I had also figured out that I needed to let go a little. I realized I couldn't really micro-manage my son's life and that letting go meant I was giving him a chance to become who he needed to be. Sounds so obvious, but trust me, it took many mistakes to help me understand that truth and then to live by it! I am so proud of the young man he has become; graduating in 4 years; getting a job within a month of graduation; and living on his own. So many blessings.<br />
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Now, 10 years later at 60 I am celebrating even more. My Mother once told me that as we age, we distill. I can definitely see that in myself. I always loved certain aspects of life including family, nature, activity, volunteering.<br />
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And all of these are even more important to me now than when I was younger. In the last (or best) 10 years of my life I have:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Reconnected with the Mississippi part of my life. I now have a place of my own in Rolling Fork, a mere 20 minutes from our land in Louise. I have not only reconnected with family and friends in Louise, MS, my father's birthplace, but I have made a home for myself in Rolling Fork, MS, loving my "Bottle Tree Bungalow" and all the friends that came with it! And, I have started showing off this special place to friends from MN, WI, Switzerland and more. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYKbHpj2wkVk1GH5XDS5nBHyLhOuWKVZ9lvp2A8kfF985E07JReletUv3113jyZqcFGRz4BSpUFdztetRhWUaXl0H4rZsgbV9I7LXYpyCmcUxQjsAvv9GUjIpl6E6QO6uDilFlHpmJrzA/s1600/BottletreeBungalow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYKbHpj2wkVk1GH5XDS5nBHyLhOuWKVZ9lvp2A8kfF985E07JReletUv3113jyZqcFGRz4BSpUFdztetRhWUaXl0H4rZsgbV9I7LXYpyCmcUxQjsAvv9GUjIpl6E6QO6uDilFlHpmJrzA/s1600/BottletreeBungalow.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Bottle Tree Bungalow, Rolling Fork, MS</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>A hobby - photography. I had dabbled with it before, but the advent of good digital cameras and easy software that allows creative post-photo editing made it a natural for me. I can do this on my own, which gives me a chance to be spontaneous and just head out with my camera when I want to go! And, of course, my favorite subject is the Mississippi Delta which never ceases to offer me new opportunities to capture its majesty.</li>
<li>Ventured out to new places. It is an understatement to say that <a href="http://deltamemories.blogspot.com/2014/09/cristie-goes-to-bern.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">my trip to Switzerland </span></a>was the highlight, but I took side trips to Sedona, Gettysburg, Baltimore, Middleburg, Shiloh and more to be sure I didn't miss all those special places that were around me while I attended meetings or was passing through. I love going to Ladies' Weekend (which has become a week for me now) at Carolyn's cabin on Round Lake in Hayward, WI. After going for 5 years now, I am thinking about buying a cabin myself up there to be near Carolyn and Kris!<br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6QYfrzvzKMVcsPIhskOHCtEspRlASDQ2Ovus31ujSfEnL8dzoaHPlwbCMwYfNU_OkABe4u8m1L2W3gnQLsTXSML7O3UF9C7SxwRzWfvypbWD_X78FSm4ABd-QZ4eyhmZr9dMxVW-eT6-b/s1600/Lake+Toys.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6QYfrzvzKMVcsPIhskOHCtEspRlASDQ2Ovus31ujSfEnL8dzoaHPlwbCMwYfNU_OkABe4u8m1L2W3gnQLsTXSML7O3UF9C7SxwRzWfvypbWD_X78FSm4ABd-QZ4eyhmZr9dMxVW-eT6-b/s1600/Lake+Toys.jpg.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carolyn's lake toys at Round Lake, Hayward, WI</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>Become a grandmother and a great-aunt! What joy to see our daughter Keelin become a wonderful mother to Andrew and Charlotte and to see my oldest niece and nephew become parents themselves. It is as great as they say re: having all the fun and then passing them back to their parents! And, I am proud of Keelin and Doug, Jennifer and Will, and Jeff and Amanda for being such loving parents. I can't wait to see how these kids grow up!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A_hGeBdnZJIPEL1coSHlz7HF-lBHRsv7bQUa1qevO-VcyID1BVTPk7_9ntXBtjbV5DpOHZAtBm6gX4eLqdJVx2WCr79XEpJDSzcUWDsmLRO4ohAzydLrULcKVrGEmqYcDKLvtgcrQb0-/s1600/Travis+Family+Merry+Christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A_hGeBdnZJIPEL1coSHlz7HF-lBHRsv7bQUa1qevO-VcyID1BVTPk7_9ntXBtjbV5DpOHZAtBm6gX4eLqdJVx2WCr79XEpJDSzcUWDsmLRO4ohAzydLrULcKVrGEmqYcDKLvtgcrQb0-/s1600/Travis+Family+Merry+Christmas.jpg" height="320" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our 2013 Christmas Card taken when we<br />
celebrated Pat's 70th Birthday!</td></tr>
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</li>
</ul>
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<br />
<ul>
<li>Connected professionally with super, committed people. I won't go into detail, but I love it that my job requires me to work with people that are so committed to patient safety, quality health care services, equity for all, and understand how the health of a population impacts a community's economic vitality. I have learned so much from these professionals and count many of them as friends as well as colleagues. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMxBZtoyBPw038RLal1-9HtP2NxkFdvaR9uRdfLlkGU-VkuIjdgXDzsqGh2vY_RLPCbY_a8T1Pt6lVt6sw2VI7QojJh_aNQ00GjK99hnlAw1irSYaQf5c5qyLsrQgjJrFGAvfFVsoZYbU/s1600/Hutch72SUIReception9.12.14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMxBZtoyBPw038RLal1-9HtP2NxkFdvaR9uRdfLlkGU-VkuIjdgXDzsqGh2vY_RLPCbY_a8T1Pt6lVt6sw2VI7QojJh_aNQ00GjK99hnlAw1irSYaQf5c5qyLsrQgjJrFGAvfFVsoZYbU/s1600/Hutch72SUIReception9.12.14.JPG" height="217" width="320" /></a></div>
A 60th birthday celebration can't just happen once, it must take time and there must be many celebrations! One celebration was with my classmates from Hutchison. Twenty-two of us gathered at the Shack-Up Inn in Clarksdale, MS to renew friendships, celebrate the lives we had together back in the 1960's, and appreciate the people we had become. Most of all, we celebrated all turning 60 in 2014 (well, there were two who beat us to it in 2013) and committed to keeping in touch and getting together again before we all need wheelchairs or canes!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj1neU4ScagzIJqeq1AZAILXjIBs5rIOdu0Nc1MQCpcsNZVIXSKu_mRs8RnMBeZFZFwgDCA6M-xDodCwEu6MAFPWU_TEDI8FLlMkRixO7jGg_B3MEjDUELW7lcic0ktpc51tidQZV3S-W6/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj1neU4ScagzIJqeq1AZAILXjIBs5rIOdu0Nc1MQCpcsNZVIXSKu_mRs8RnMBeZFZFwgDCA6M-xDodCwEu6MAFPWU_TEDI8FLlMkRixO7jGg_B3MEjDUELW7lcic0ktpc51tidQZV3S-W6/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The RF gang gave me a Kay Shropshire Heller original!</td></tr>
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I also celebrated my birthday with family and my friends from Rolling Fork. It was a special evening that ended up with an after party at my house. Finally they could see me in my element here in Memphis and that was fun for me.<br />
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I am so glad to be 60 and to be alive and to having a life full of work, fun, family and friends. Who could ask for more?<br />
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-56059066706053647362014-09-23T16:40:00.000-05:002014-09-23T16:40:17.388-05:00Looking Past the VistasDon't get me wrong, I love the beautiful, vast vistas of the Mississippi Delta. The swamps filled with majestic cypress that are called home by egrets, eagles, alligators, and turtles (on logs of course!). The farm fields that stretch from one horizon to the other, broken up only by the winding creeks or tree lines that mark their boundaries and provide protection from the southwesterly winds. The glorious sunsets that not only rival, but remind us, of sunsets over the ocean because there is nothing that stands between you and the setting sun except the flat lands of the alluvial plain known as The Delta.<br />
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Yes, I love those vistas. But those are the ones you see most often. Those are the ones that just naturally catch your eye. Those are the ones that, left to their own devices, will dominate your senses and absorb all of your attention, leaving nothing left to take in the subtleties of the Delta.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-16-9TUfFMxwxLJMFPDKKqFs50GID8XFrHOl5VjDCv74oQVjqMZEf5zrXBgdrSU8ouFx47J-2iW4bWXalb1sS6wlzbV6avpzwGFKpsFGfDGM7wD6qwB-kaWNxOyV3zxEZVcfyfb3JPd0_/s1600/wheatfieldflowers.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-16-9TUfFMxwxLJMFPDKKqFs50GID8XFrHOl5VjDCv74oQVjqMZEf5zrXBgdrSU8ouFx47J-2iW4bWXalb1sS6wlzbV6avpzwGFKpsFGfDGM7wD6qwB-kaWNxOyV3zxEZVcfyfb3JPd0_/s1600/wheatfieldflowers.jpg.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a><br />
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Over the past couple of years, as I head down Highway 61 South from Memphis and as I return home by Highway 49, I have spotted, out of the corner of my eye, the flash of yellow, purple, pink, or blue wildflowers that line the road and border the fields.<br />
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Exploring the creek banks on days where there are no Big Blue Herons taking off or wood ducks swimming by, I notice the lavender wisteria, the butterflies that can't resist the pale pink flowers, and flowering vines, resembling necklaces, that link the ever-present telephone poles that dot the landscape. And the layers of color as crops fade into yellow wildflowers that fade into the vines along the creek.<br />
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Ditches are filled with black-eyed susans and an occasional iris marks where a home once was years ago.<br />
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And, although they are usually grown as a crop or in gardens, the Delta's sunflowers bring a smile as we pass by.<br />
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The next time you are in the Delta, slow down and look past the vistas that usually absorb your attention. Look for the details, the smaller pieces of the Delta that add a richness to your experience, even if they are not your usual focus.<br />
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-38558213121604777772014-09-21T21:43:00.000-05:002014-09-21T21:46:02.222-05:00Cristie Goes to BernThere is a great back story to my trip to Bern, Switzerland this last August.<br />
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In reality, I invited myself, but it was in a joking manner. Never did I really think that they would invite me and I would actually go!<br />
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My blog post from 2012 tells the beginning of the back story (<a href="http://deltamemories.blogspot.com/2012/04/roundtrip-between-delta-and-bern.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;"><b>read it here</b></span></a>). The back story ends when Johanna Anna Kremer Hovinga Strebel stopped off in Memphis in June 2014 on her way to a meeting (a congress as she calls it) in Milwaukee.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOY8AsL1hbQZvx83QDFnhzXzur1ZwOIpPDQn5KAKCxC0kKjTBpbAtzydpj5Bgd07J9iwC6UrIYk1iSKmy1aR1mWBneDEHaJXe7SBiR-Yv_cXbyQHwuCahQdl6X7sCYzz9GtYN-39oh0c7/s1600/IMG_2629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOY8AsL1hbQZvx83QDFnhzXzur1ZwOIpPDQn5KAKCxC0kKjTBpbAtzydpj5Bgd07J9iwC6UrIYk1iSKmy1aR1mWBneDEHaJXe7SBiR-Yv_cXbyQHwuCahQdl6X7sCYzz9GtYN-39oh0c7/s1600/IMG_2629.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Johanna at the <br />
Tunica River Museum, Tunica, MS</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Pat and I took her to dinner where she invited me to come to Switzerland for the 2nd Steering Committee meeting of the TTP Registry focused on Upshaw-Schulman Syndrome housed at the University of Bern. While taking Johanna on a whirlwind tour of the Top of the Delta (aka, Tunica) the next day, I accepted her gracious invitation in spite of my fear of heights, traveling to Europe, and being alone in an unfamiliar place. I knew this would be the trip of a lifetime and it was!<br />
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The highlight of my trip was having the opportunity to spend a few minutes on the first day of the meeting talking about Daddy.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KVdsr082ld5hcUDbb_t_7Ro0ymJAZp90sOT9-DjdvkDEtEvD-gPbwt7jKOPF-KT_zZJ2VcbEwuHyco6E6C09eFQ4sZd_YXQVgTeUgVYOJpef5ipJdtNkYN6RADuOYl5NY_4nGZY6h2OI/s1600/TTP+2nd+Steering+Committee+Mtg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KVdsr082ld5hcUDbb_t_7Ro0ymJAZp90sOT9-DjdvkDEtEvD-gPbwt7jKOPF-KT_zZJ2VcbEwuHyco6E6C09eFQ4sZd_YXQVgTeUgVYOJpef5ipJdtNkYN6RADuOYl5NY_4nGZY6h2OI/s1600/TTP+2nd+Steering+Committee+Mtg.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Members of the Upshaw-Schulman TTP Registry Steering Committee are <br />
from Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Norway, Japan, Czech Republic, <br />
United Kingdom, and USA</td></tr>
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I am sure my personal reflections were not that interesting, but I wanted them to know more about him as a person, not just a physician. They indulged me and seemed happy with the gifts I brought:<br />
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A copy of my "Natural Beauty" photo taken in my favorite swamp near Tunica in the Mississippi Delta. My father was born and raised in the Delta and I now have a weekend home there myself. My two brothers and I still own the family farm near the small town where Daddy was born. So, it is a special place for us.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reinhard Schneppennheim, Hamburg, Germany, <br />
arrived late so sent a picture from home in his Bama<br />
hat with his 16 year-old son</td></tr>
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An Alabama cap. Daddy went to the University of Alabama to college and later to Johns Hopkins University for medical school. He was a passionate Alabama football fan. All of my brothers, as well as myself, my nephew, my mother, and my grandfather also went to Alabama. Everyone put the cap on at the meeting in Bern to remember Daddy.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmavjAyY0mkji3pIwfOKKqtMd6i-nojJh3MdZBjYb8AtpZD-2gxy9wU4UBIyks5uJt7SmUltnGw1XowMZ3kQpp6WDRaB2BYTzzLPJwblhuqLEdm1js17OQXEUtRE4zdZv_rVrxefvGZUvi/s1600/YoshiBamaHatcropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmavjAyY0mkji3pIwfOKKqtMd6i-nojJh3MdZBjYb8AtpZD-2gxy9wU4UBIyks5uJt7SmUltnGw1XowMZ3kQpp6WDRaB2BYTzzLPJwblhuqLEdm1js17OQXEUtRE4zdZv_rVrxefvGZUvi/s1600/YoshiBamaHatcropped.jpg" height="180" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yoshi Fujimura, retired original member of the <br />
steering committee, donned his Bama hat<br />
his colleagues gave him</td></tr>
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And, of course, something "Elvis" (a mug from Graceland). Elvis is synonymous with Memphis which is where Daddy practiced medicine for 45 years and where I live now. </div>
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The remainder of my trip was spent touring Switzerland, some days with Johanna and her husband Niklaus, and all days with my newfound friends from Oklahoma, Sara Vesely (one of the TTP Registry advisors from Oklahoma City) and her mother Marianna Vesely. They were so kind to let me tag along and I loved being with them and sharing our adventures together. </div>
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I will not be so bold to invite myself to Bern again, but I do hope to stay in touch with Johanna about the progress of the registry and with the others as they continue to identify the best treatments for patients with Upshaw-Schulman Syndrome.</div>
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Here are some photos I took on my once in a lifetime trip to Switzerland!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt6foLjjUobemiKakXVE3-pPbDUrQ8PfZhCV9fDErwEOmaG2h8Z72De9XejEfZcs7qTfrhyphenhyphenDFvyDsoO7cgEJE3S83jbqktuEeZqtN5NRVA5Z3tC-A7CQ4s_eKDIBrWC0QORCsCy2DmsJe/s1600/Chillon+Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt6foLjjUobemiKakXVE3-pPbDUrQ8PfZhCV9fDErwEOmaG2h8Z72De9XejEfZcs7qTfrhyphenhyphenDFvyDsoO7cgEJE3S83jbqktuEeZqtN5NRVA5Z3tC-A7CQ4s_eKDIBrWC0QORCsCy2DmsJe/s1600/Chillon+Castle.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle Chillon on Lake Geneva</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBWyvh2acod1DF0N44nuQWBvKfSquNnp0O9iYmu4Kx9px-RY6a_N9yoJWLzRMwpLFTvZz8Ojid1tN74gVenJ501hIvGCOzz4_J2R1ym_iGADdaCD__DfCUbC0tuNFz25qWQivYzViJCpx/s1600/Alps+from+Murren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBWyvh2acod1DF0N44nuQWBvKfSquNnp0O9iYmu4Kx9px-RY6a_N9yoJWLzRMwpLFTvZz8Ojid1tN74gVenJ501hIvGCOzz4_J2R1ym_iGADdaCD__DfCUbC0tuNFz25qWQivYzViJCpx/s1600/Alps+from+Murren.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murren in the Swiss Alps</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_J3Zxs9WAfDLjBufWvCzI-rUHTqP2J2nRaOmqWy9fMyAbhhbabbvAkPBpCX-LUCZmMJ75noHJ8HBlYCIS-_NMCCFfDVcljrvQH1xtEtaibEZ1jj0V7s08PVDn7IOwx3GUjSmPE5NT0p3/s1600/Snow+capped+alps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_J3Zxs9WAfDLjBufWvCzI-rUHTqP2J2nRaOmqWy9fMyAbhhbabbvAkPBpCX-LUCZmMJ75noHJ8HBlYCIS-_NMCCFfDVcljrvQH1xtEtaibEZ1jj0V7s08PVDn7IOwx3GUjSmPE5NT0p3/s1600/Snow+capped+alps.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murren in the Swiss Alps</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKukONk3cIwICu1IfHx8DY0XXclgBkKStH3fCTNiAbUG7Lk_CrPPAT57vGoUrq6XUYJjPYTmcPXJXn5fVrbBBLNF8c02HjzlUBCPThvGdtmHQ0j_7T1ilVeJxJvC8b6oeaD1JE_jh3DQRp/s1600/Trees+in+the+Alps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKukONk3cIwICu1IfHx8DY0XXclgBkKStH3fCTNiAbUG7Lk_CrPPAT57vGoUrq6XUYJjPYTmcPXJXn5fVrbBBLNF8c02HjzlUBCPThvGdtmHQ0j_7T1ilVeJxJvC8b6oeaD1JE_jh3DQRp/s1600/Trees+in+the+Alps.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murren in the Swiss Alps</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bern with the Alps in the background above the clouds</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwz4UAeRSK4TlZ_bSAtsIrLOV4wsNmkpvZTTwmvtbSDsoA2WRgBLmGKSMfXqwr08i3enGzLPX5uvKCu2xSnYidiK_6vCsWsHaggLclqjJa3UrHa-ytkz47eVKcABB1PAHJTSMPhWuS51GY/s1600/Bern+Rooftops+Color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwz4UAeRSK4TlZ_bSAtsIrLOV4wsNmkpvZTTwmvtbSDsoA2WRgBLmGKSMfXqwr08i3enGzLPX5uvKCu2xSnYidiK_6vCsWsHaggLclqjJa3UrHa-ytkz47eVKcABB1PAHJTSMPhWuS51GY/s1600/Bern+Rooftops+Color.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old City of Bern</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wqTNCyiPqUisQ64uu_MPEdL28Nw3TA13wRyatazeipKSdIHeWU7gYeja_axKXzpvX5FO0r6qH0mAjquvqTMrktANqviIZFcZyFncwb0YhkYgm2GudH1PcWb4ldXCzQz6cFCesPklMuyi/s1600/Bern+Clock+Tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wqTNCyiPqUisQ64uu_MPEdL28Nw3TA13wRyatazeipKSdIHeWU7gYeja_axKXzpvX5FO0r6qH0mAjquvqTMrktANqviIZFcZyFncwb0YhkYgm2GudH1PcWb4ldXCzQz6cFCesPklMuyi/s1600/Bern+Clock+Tower.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bern</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_9_triKR0yRouqWVNn6Sw1a9lsb1vOFFdx_ykW0Xv7mBPRRbKuno3lXwqOaW89yBk0c7nkgPRMl2rdH5UYhb1CHWHaeLgp-IVsJuu7xZPnNO6OC1wE3Gb5dF9J-fS_oKVDmCpQs2OOVY/s1600/The+Old+City+at+Dusk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_9_triKR0yRouqWVNn6Sw1a9lsb1vOFFdx_ykW0Xv7mBPRRbKuno3lXwqOaW89yBk0c7nkgPRMl2rdH5UYhb1CHWHaeLgp-IVsJuu7xZPnNO6OC1wE3Gb5dF9J-fS_oKVDmCpQs2OOVY/s1600/The+Old+City+at+Dusk.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bern with the green Aare River</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bern</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJodnIcJTTDTtWCZUn-Rr2FqwrigwHUsGAuT6_Edzc9aY0_EGw-YpLeBH0Zkj1ShWXJR7uhU2k8ycsTQfG80DYVGuZeAEc7iFoaU3ZaVJlpBSbvNr05sbhjwfrY41DU_PYh6-XV-GkUj9x/s1600/Ballenberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJodnIcJTTDTtWCZUn-Rr2FqwrigwHUsGAuT6_Edzc9aY0_EGw-YpLeBH0Zkj1ShWXJR7uhU2k8ycsTQfG80DYVGuZeAEc7iFoaU3ZaVJlpBSbvNr05sbhjwfrY41DU_PYh6-XV-GkUj9x/s1600/Ballenberg.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ballenberg open air museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBMqNczrlBEpu7Ccwroh60ieEv1b0GKCcX63PhkP7aF1CcASJcET9etZQUQEw5j3lcE8ZglY97DDH4ThoiS1Z8WqfQbxbhQfVK1hJb8coAuzu5IM9veI0uDGWr4La1VW3nicQJp_2OLbp/s1600/Lucerne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBMqNczrlBEpu7Ccwroh60ieEv1b0GKCcX63PhkP7aF1CcASJcET9etZQUQEw5j3lcE8ZglY97DDH4ThoiS1Z8WqfQbxbhQfVK1hJb8coAuzu5IM9veI0uDGWr4La1VW3nicQJp_2OLbp/s1600/Lucerne.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucerne</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qLQitSpwiIs-TTTWY0ALcr4JMRkyYvNqUXm4eajeXXYltbzy4jXpTU_4-T5p9rT0RnlUbBuj59xXiATBgo62W86IWMuBB2a05lbZyEdfW6WjXHIsUNzw87PLoJ2nu3gLkwML_26GJXK6/s1600/Lucerne+Bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qLQitSpwiIs-TTTWY0ALcr4JMRkyYvNqUXm4eajeXXYltbzy4jXpTU_4-T5p9rT0RnlUbBuj59xXiATBgo62W86IWMuBB2a05lbZyEdfW6WjXHIsUNzw87PLoJ2nu3gLkwML_26GJXK6/s1600/Lucerne+Bridge.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chapel Bridge in Lucerne</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murten</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Geneva village</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Thun</td></tr>
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Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-56233693351025897292014-05-20T22:05:00.002-05:002014-05-20T22:05:38.454-05:00Lovin the SouthlandCelebrating the Southland, and especially The Delta<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/iDgG9_zFQic" width="420"></iframe>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-65223142366545789522014-03-15T17:34:00.002-05:002014-04-11T09:07:50.391-05:00On a Roots Tour in the Mississippi Delta<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life-long friends gathered to reconnect and kick-off the "roots tour"!</td></tr>
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A high school friend of mine that has long-moved from Memphis came back home last weekend to take her college daughter on a "roots tour". Her daughter, who reminds me so much of my friend at her age, was about to be introduced to her Memphis and Mississippi Delta heritage. Definitely a life-changing event!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rum Boogie on Beale was at capacity with a great blues band</td></tr>
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The weekend started with their visit to the family cemetery, watching the ducks at The Peabody Hotel, and then dinner with friends. Of course we headed to Beale Street after dinner, if only for a little while, because what is a "roots tour" without hearing some real blues on the street that made the blues famous? The rest of the plan was for them to head to Clarksdale to see family and then drive to New Orleans to, well, you know what you do in New Orleans.<br />
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I woke up early the day after our dinner and realized I hadn't told her all the great places to visit on her drive down historic U. S. Highway 61 South through the Mississippi Delta to Vicksburg and then on to New Orleans. Quickly, because I was going to make us late to church, I sent a facebook message suggesting places where they could leave the main highway and see the true Delta, the one that I have grown to love over the past three years. I knew they couldn't do everything I suggested, but at least I wanted them to know what they were missing as they traveled south.<br />
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Here are some of the places I suggested, and some I sadly left out by mistake:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue & White Restaurant, U.S. 61 South, Tunica, MS</td></tr>
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<b>The Blue & White Restaurant in Tunica, MS</b>: I can't believe I didn't tell them to stop in this old Pure Oil gas station and get my favorite, the catfish hoagie. The patty melt is good too and I hear the hamburger is their claim to fame. Some day I may try the donut tower! Sit in the lunch counter room and visit with the farmers and town-folk that fill this restaurant up daily.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall is my favorite time in the swamp near Tunica</td></tr>
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<b>My secret swamp just south of Tunica, MS</b>: now, I couldn't tell them about this one because it is a secret, right? This is my favorite photo op place in the Delta. I love watching the wildlife (deer, ducks, egrets, cormorants, nutria, snakes, eagles and I bet some alligators), as well as the beautiful swamp flowers and cypress trees.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can stay in original share-cropper shacks or <br />
even grain bins at the Shack-Up Inn in Clarksdale, MS</td></tr>
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<b>The Shack-Up Inn in Clarksdale, MS</b>: My friends actually spent the night here in the Pinetop Perkins shack. They sent me a picture when they checked in and said they loved it! I stayed in a shack once and will definitely aim for a grain-bin room the next time. But I do love this place and it is a must on your trek south out of Memphis.<br />
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<b>Ground Zero in Clarksdale, MS</b>: This one I forgot! Of course, it is best visited at night but my husband and I had a couple of beers there one hot summer Saturday afternoon when we had planned to go to a blues festival, but decided heading for the coolness of Ground Zero sounded like a better idea.<br />
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<b>McCarty's Pottery, Merigold, MS:</b> Don't expect to pay any less for this Mississippi Delta pottery just because you are at the place where it is made. And, definitely use your voice-activated GPS as I literally drove around this small town for about 30 minutes before I found it! I bought my brother a replacement sea shell for the one that we chipped at Thanksgiving. McCarty's pottery is best known for their Mississippi River signature that tells you it is genuine.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Po' Monkey's is a short drive<br />
off HWY 61as you drive into Merigold, MS</td></tr>
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<b>Po' Monkey's, Merigold, MS</b>: When driving into Merigold from Clarksdale, take the right at the Mississippi Blues Trail marker, keep to the left, and once on the gravel road keep going until you reach Po' Monkey's. This juke joint is only open to the public on Thursday nights, but worth the drive just to see the signs on the dos and don'ts about coming into the joint. In trying to get a picture once I was a little irritated that a caretaker was washing his car in just that position that was ruining my photo shot. Little did I know it was the owner and I missed my chance to beg my way into Po' Monkey's.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer Creek at Anguilla </td></tr>
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<b>Deer Creek</b>, winding throughout the Delta: You can stop by Deer Creek in Leland, MS, where Jim Henson grew up exploring the creek and imagining a life with the frogs (aka, Kermit) and other wildlife and animals along its banks; or in my favorite spot, Anguilla at the intersection of Highway 61 and Highway14. Mallards, wood duck, big blue herons, beavers, egrets, turtles, alligators and even kayakers and canoers love Deer Creek. With all the wildlife and the ups and downs of the creek itself, no two visits are the same. A friend of mine from Minnesota and I watched a turtle try to get up on a log for about 5 minutes. We kept thinking he would make it but, alas, he never did. Now that is better than television any day!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mont Helena sits on a ceremonial <br />
Indian mound between Anguilla and Rolling Fork</td></tr>
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<b>Mont Helena, Rolling Fork, MS</b>: Driving south on Highway 61 from Anguilla, look to the right and you will see Mont Helena, an colonial revival home built in 1896 on a ceremonial Indian mound. After an extensive restoration, Mont Helena now hosts private functions, tours, and is the home for the annual "Mont Helena: A Dream Revisited" a locally produced musical re-telling the true love story of the home's family. The play runs weekends in April and early May and tickets sell out in about an hour, reflecting the popularity of the show. Learn more about Mont Helena at <a href="http://www.monthelena.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">www.monthelena.com</span></a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visit the Onward Store to hear the <br />
Teddy Bear legend and get a good Delta meal <br />
(picture from theonwardstore.com)</td></tr>
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<b>Onward Store, Onward, MS</b>: Ever hear of the Teddy Bear? Well, of course you have and just 12 miles south of Rolling Fork on U.S. 61, you can relive the story of President Theodore Roosevelt's famed 1902 Mississippi Delta bear hunt when the President refused to kill a wounded bear tied to a tree in spite of the fact that he desparately wanted to get his bear on this hunt. The media picked up on the story and it quickly spread throughout the US and the "Teddy Bear" was born. In addition to finding souveniers, Delta art, gasoline and a few staples, you can enjoy fine Delta cuisine in the attached restaurant. Visit <span style="color: lime;"><a href="http://www.theonwardstore.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">www.theonwardstore.com</span></a> </span>for more details.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Margaret's Grocery, built by her husband the Rev. H. D. Dennis, is located<br />
on Business 61 which is a right-turn before you get into Vicksburg</td></tr>
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<b>Out of the Delta: </b>When you get to Vicksburg you are out of the Delta. The Yazoo River and the Mississippi River meet at Vicksburg and some of the worst flooding in the Great Flood of 2011 took place right here. You can read more about my experience in the flood in this <span style="color: lime;"><a href="http://deltamemories.blogspot.com/2011_05_01_archive.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">blog post</span></a> </span>. But it is clear as you near Vicksburg that you are no longer in the "flat lands".<br />
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<b>The Tomato Place, Vicksburg, MS</b>: As you leave Vicksburg headed south on U. S. 61 toward Natchez, be sure you stop by The Tomato Place. It will be on your right and you are likely to see it only as you pass it. But rest assured there is a place where you can turn back not far past it and I urge you to do so. The Tomato Place is both a farmer's market and a restaurant and even a flea market at times. I had the best BLT ever during tomato season there. They also sell fresh baked goods and even smoothies. Be sure and stop by on your way south. Check it out at <a href="http://www.thetomatoplace.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: lime;">http://www.thetomatoplace.com/</span></a>.<br />
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As you leave the Delta and head toward New Orleans, there are many places you should stop by and see.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Port Gibson, MS survived the Civil War<br />
because Grant thought it was too beautiful to burn</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJCyM_5ZzRScTreI5BKyAplo0dqtEEQik3uB9bD2uUEejAB9wEF_yWjR150UwSglbKGSFWdChNxlOwmFYyKUvWCLK7p5VXLgw5siCDOECYzw-hz_jQGljZSThluTif-sxJZW9D8BXxeV6/s1600/Windosr+B&W.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJCyM_5ZzRScTreI5BKyAplo0dqtEEQik3uB9bD2uUEejAB9wEF_yWjR150UwSglbKGSFWdChNxlOwmFYyKUvWCLK7p5VXLgw5siCDOECYzw-hz_jQGljZSThluTif-sxJZW9D8BXxeV6/s1600/Windosr+B&W.jpg" height="252" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Windsor Ruins, 10 miles southwest of Port Gibson, <br />
are all that is left of Mississippi's largest antebellum mansion<br />
that burned when a guest left a lighted cigar on the balcony</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rodney, MS, located near Alcorn State University on Highway 552 W <br />
off Highway 61, is often referred to as a ghost town. Access Rodney Road through the ASU campus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Natchez, MS is home to many antebellum homes open to the public.<br />
Longwood, my favorite, was never finished since the Northern laborers<br />
working on the home left when the Civil War broke out. The family finished<br />
the lower floor and lived there. The upper floors are unfinished and you see them on the tour.<br />
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This is where I leave you. I haven't yet made the full trip from Memphis to New Orleans and may not do that anytime soon. But, as you can see, there is so much to see and do in the Delta and then south of the Delta toward Natchez. Take the time to stop and even go a little off the main highway to see what life in this special place is really all about. Trust me, you will never look at Mississippi again the same way. </div>
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-1353752334483052802012-09-13T22:14:00.002-05:002012-09-13T22:22:23.459-05:00Deer CreekLike most of us that take pictures in the Delta, I have my favorite spots that I return to every chance I get.<br />
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Deer Creek in Anguilla is one of these spots. For those not familiar with Deer Creek, it winds its way throughout the Mississippi Delta, from the Mississippi River in Washington County to the Yazoo River in Warren County. Its banks are full of history. It was the home to an agriculturally based, prehistoric Indian culture as early as 1200 A.D. Plantations dotted its banks in some of the richest alluvial soil in the Delta. Jim Henson played on its banks in Leland, MS with his friend Kermit Scott and he shared these moments with the world through the original Muppet, Kermit.<br />
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For about a year, I have visited Deer Creek, and I have, indeed, fallen in love. <br />
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">An overcast day changes the light in just a way that allows an otherwise pedestrian, some would even say ugly, culvert to look like a bridge in a Monet painting. </span> </td></tr>
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Standing in just the right spot, a view down the creek rivals the best landscape scenes anywhere.<br />
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Ducks splashing, and
showing off for potential mates, give way to lazy ones resting on a log
on a hot and muggy September morning looking for a chance to cool off in the creek.<br />
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Turtles are often seen trying to
stay on a log that just keeps rolling and finally making it to bask in
the sun to replenish the calcium needed to keep a hard shell of
protection.<br />
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When I close my eyes. I can imagine baptisms in the creek, at a spot marked by crosses just across from Anguilla Methodist Church,<br />
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As usual, I post my Deer Creek shots on my facebook page. They are some of the most "liked" pictures. A friend of mine summed it up completely for me when she shared a recent picture I took on the shores of Deer Creek, "<span id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[1]"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]."><span id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]..[0]">I
think that many times we become so used to seeing things in our own
community day after day , that we fail to notice the real beauty that
visitors recognize & are drawn to." </span></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]."><span id=".reactRoot[28].[1][2][1]{comment440416256001123_5040086}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]..[0]">Deer Creek is, indeed, one of those special places. Check it out some time! </span></span></span><br />
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-2335905856740913392012-06-17T22:17:00.000-05:002012-06-17T22:18:40.602-05:00Settling In<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, I bit the bullet...I bought my little place (yes, very little) in the Delta. It took all of 2 minutes to sign the papers; even less than my 5 minute Methodist wedding!<br />
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It took a lot longer to get ready to buy the BottleTree. Figuring out how to buy a house without a realtor; having the inspection; getting estimates on repairs; finding a closing attorney; scheduling a time we could all be in town to sign the papers. Somehow, it was a little anti-climatic. Wham, bam, thank you mam! kind of stuff! But, the reason it was so easy, is that it was so right.<br />
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I had a whole year to figure out if being part of the Delta was something I wanted. And, I knew it was. During that year I made friends; figured out some of the practical stuff, like when the stores were open; learned the idiosyncracies of my cottage; and shared great times with family and new friends.<br />
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But, I still have a lot to learn:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"High Corn" near Sidon, MS</td></tr>
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Corn can be both a blessing and a curse. It's great as a privacy screen. But blocks the breeze which can make it stifling hot!<br />
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Harvest season will last a long time this year. I can't remember when I have seen "corn as high as an elephant's eye" at the same time that I see it barely up to my knees (and I am short!). Same for soy beans and cotton, although they never get as tall as corn. A rainy early spring and a dry late spring will make work for farmers way into the fall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melissa Darden (L) & Meg Cooper (R) of the Lower Delta Partnership</td></tr>
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Living in a small town means you do it all. I compare this to running a small business. You are the boss, the payroll clerk, the webmaster, and the office manager. Same in a small town...You are the one in charge of the demolition and salvage of an historical landmark; organizing and managing the electronic recycling event for the county; being on the Board for the local hospital. Same people, doing all the work with a smile on their face and a dedication that is so refreshing!<br />
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Stuff costs more in rural MS. I bought two pounds of coffee, 6 eggs, and a loaf of bread for $17.00! I don't know, maybe it's not more expensive than Memphis, but it sure seemed that way.<br />
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Sunday radio is a great mixture of country music and Bible lessons.<br />
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I've only been part of this place for about 18 months, but it is, indeed, becoming home for me. I've traded the solitary weekends for times full of visits with family and friends; birthday dinners; volunteering at festivals and plays. I've joked that I have more friends and things to do in Rolling Fork than I do in Memphis! I guess that says it all!<br />
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The Big Red Barn collapsed in April 2011. Meg and Melissa worked to save as much of the barn as possible. It was, indeed, the very symbol of Rolling Fork, being that landmark that just spelled "home" for those coming back from Jackson or Vicksburg. You can own a piece of this landmark and support the Lower Delta Partnership. More information will be available soon at<a href="http://www.lowerdelta.org/" target="_blank"> <span style="color: lime;">www.lowerdelta.org</span></a>. <br />
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Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-27726722704948811852012-04-20T20:06:00.001-05:002012-04-20T20:26:54.639-05:00Roundtrip Between the Delta and BernNo, I haven't gone to Bern, Switzerland. Well, not yet at least. But the Delta has gone to Bern and Bern has come to the Delta.<br />
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The traveler was my Daddy, Dr. Jefferson Davis Upshaw, Jr, and the great work he did to understand what became known as Upshaw-Schulman Syndrome. You can read the details <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrombotic_thrombocytopenic_purpura" style="color: lime;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="color: lime;">,</span></b> but it is a form of inherited thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LMLy07dzcpXy7LHF7oh-SdPjtl6xSxpNfmtxS0YWEfb-8jlXVFmLTFtS5glTCWC6NhM8m23NOxUZBeflYaAKFm3Me9zKezo7XoNFf4G6SxCb8tzHSTZ5-GuhdPR4bS6_VLX4glyAHANh/s1600/Jeff+Upshaw+Military+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LMLy07dzcpXy7LHF7oh-SdPjtl6xSxpNfmtxS0YWEfb-8jlXVFmLTFtS5glTCWC6NhM8m23NOxUZBeflYaAKFm3Me9zKezo7XoNFf4G6SxCb8tzHSTZ5-GuhdPR4bS6_VLX4glyAHANh/s320/Jeff+Upshaw+Military+Picture.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jefferson Davis Upshaw, Jr at Gulf Coast Military Academy</td></tr>
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Daddy was born in Louise, MS, in Humphreys County, MS on July 19, 1929 - a mere two years after the Great Flood of 1927. He attended elementary school in Louise and then junior high and high school at Gulf Coast Military Academy in Gulfport, MS.<br />
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He was nominated to attend West Point Military Academy, but chose (ha ha) The University of Alabama (Roll Tide) where he graduated Phi Beta Kappa. He then graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School where he also completed his internship and residency in Internal Medicine.<br />
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After serving in the Air Force in Bermuda (what a tough life) he and my Mother moved to Memphis where he practiced internal medicine and hematology for 40+ years. He served as both Chief and President of the Medical Staff as well as Director of Medical Education for Baptist Memorial Health Care Corporation in Memphis. He was there when Elvis died!<br />
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Now, you are saying, where does Bern, Switzerland come in? Well, Daddy, himself, never went to Bern. But Daddy's work did!<br />
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I was actually sitting in my cottage in Rolling Fork, MS in early March 2012, just about 20 miles from Daddy's birthplace and home in Louise, MS, when I got an email from Bern, Switzerland. A little (or a lot) skeptical, I did not respond. But Bern was persistent. Later that month, they reached out again:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">"Dear Ms Upshaw Travis</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">We at the Inselpital Bern
(Switzerland) in the University Clinic of Hematology and Central Hematology are
building an international database for patients with Upshaw-Schulman Syndrom.
The disease is named after Jefferson D. Upshaw, Jr. (last known affiliation:
The Memphis Cancer Center, Memphis, Tennessee 38119, USA), who we believe was
your father; and Irving Schulman. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">The research database has an
official Website (<b><a href="http://www.ttpregistry.net/" style="color: lime;">www.ttpregistry.net</a></b>)
for patients, doctors and interested parties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">One of our goals is to provide
patients with usable background information about their disease including a
historical note on the people after whom the syndrome was named. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">An article about Mr. Schulman that
we hope to be able to use already exists (<b><a href="http://med.stanford.edu/news_releases/2009/june/schulman.html" style="color: lime;">http://med.stanford.edu/news_releases/2009/june/schulman.html</a><span style="color: lime;">
</span></b>) but we are lacking information about Mr. Upshaw.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">We thought that perhaps you could
help us out in this direction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;">PS: Maybe you would allow us to
establish a link for your blog “deltamemories” which we like very much. " </span></div>
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Could I tell them more about Daddy? Did I have a picture? Could they link to my blog (the one you are reading) as they found it interesting (LOL)?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRfsrULGJb1uBz_gF9qm-mAIy6IaKm8bEW-6qN2dPvtcexaENShbJn4TdCb0_NFjGEWKiq9KUsEO7bufQuuV0eU0UFmirbMj99q1fyPGy1zmrWiZhTi3bVYDPjFTPQIrMnDdSgEv4QYQdF/s1600/dad1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRfsrULGJb1uBz_gF9qm-mAIy6IaKm8bEW-6qN2dPvtcexaENShbJn4TdCb0_NFjGEWKiq9KUsEO7bufQuuV0eU0UFmirbMj99q1fyPGy1zmrWiZhTi3bVYDPjFTPQIrMnDdSgEv4QYQdF/s320/dad1.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jefferson Davis Upshaw, Jr</td></tr>
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Well, they had me then. I sent them a copy of Daddy's obituary and then a "good" picture of Daddy as the one in the obit was horrible and then, of course, welcomed them to link to this blog!<br />
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Perhaps some of the Bern guys are reading this blog post, so I want to say: Thank you so much for carrying on Daddy's work! He was a practicing physician - not a researcher! But he always understood his responsibility to pass along what he was learning. He also understood his responsibility to advance the knowledge of how to help patients and help physicians help patients. He was proud that his work was notable, but he was moved more by the difference it made in the lives of patients that got better because of what he learned. And, if you want me to come and present at a conference on Daddy's work, let me know! I imagine I can find the time....<br />
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I think I kept many of his papers documenting his experience and findings with Upshaw-Schulman Syndrome. They are some where up in my attic. I just couldn't throw them out knowing how much they meant to him and to others.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yR0R6eJ7ky6ihBXEIw0Dpq6MgIIgLkrahfsZ6Nfal_JYjJc3BK0PrCjUAnhxglP76ZMzoaDEOqCI1FBxXEQInnhmA76ttBIdJqmNLr-yQ73FCYpmjxm0mithBLNQBoehh3lPPnqre0RW/s1600/Jeff+Upshaw+Father+of+the+Bride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yR0R6eJ7ky6ihBXEIw0Dpq6MgIIgLkrahfsZ6Nfal_JYjJc3BK0PrCjUAnhxglP76ZMzoaDEOqCI1FBxXEQInnhmA76ttBIdJqmNLr-yQ73FCYpmjxm0mithBLNQBoehh3lPPnqre0RW/s320/Jeff+Upshaw+Father+of+the+Bride.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Daddy, April 24, 1982</td></tr>
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Daddy's work made its way to Bern and now many of them are learning about the Delta, the land and people that helped raise the man whose work and name is making their work possible, through this blog. <br />
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Who would have thought that a man, born in the Delta, educated in what
many would call the "Deep South", and serving patients, not a
researcher, would some day be sought after by Bern, Switzerland?<br />
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Well, if you know the Delta the way I do, this is not surprising at all!<br />
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<br />Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-4437205888382247142011-12-22T10:10:00.014-06:002011-12-23T10:17:12.763-06:00I Have Arrived!I haven't posted a blog in what seems like forever. Sure, I posted my backroads video, so I guess that counts. But not a real blog.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjXx3KJAUocAt4mOlPLBGoa9oNDDsT4a8Bir787QH7Wcc7kitZ4UErKI_PlzDGf-Uf1a4_yBo5Pj_G-rCgc_n4SWT3FxgmJ_-K4TVoesuatwL0K1_3g4ZAa7s0Pgi3Ybne-1yqE12qP9c/s1600/leaveallsnakesalone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjXx3KJAUocAt4mOlPLBGoa9oNDDsT4a8Bir787QH7Wcc7kitZ4UErKI_PlzDGf-Uf1a4_yBo5Pj_G-rCgc_n4SWT3FxgmJ_-K4TVoesuatwL0K1_3g4ZAa7s0Pgi3Ybne-1yqE12qP9c/s400/leaveallsnakesalone.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This city girl just turned around & left after reading this at the Cypress Preserve in Greenville!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>But what's funny is I have 5 draft blog posts that have just gone nowhere. Draft titles such as "The Bible Belt", "We Got a New Preacher Today", "Cousins", "It's the Land Katie Scarlet", and one of my favorites, "Leave All Snakes Alone".<br />
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So, why didn't any of these make it to prime time? Well, the ones on faith were, perhaps, a little too personal and in my attempts to put them in context, they became too factual. That's a boring combination: personal and factual! And, as far as the others, life just got in the way and I lost focus.<br />
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But underlying all of these drafts and why they didn't make it to this blog is the fact that although I haven't finished my first year in the Delta yet, I have actually become a Deltan and not just its observer.<br />
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I hope that does not sound bragadocious, because if you are not from the Delta, you can't just claim this "title", you have to be given it. And, that is just what has happened to me twice over the past month.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio13PZQXR7AGktOv04KnMrTz0f9P45YN-bzFFUpPL4XtH4Q3EGl4HzBynWNQ9F6AAmvBLsbrBuix9s7cHENgbUa2f1nQITg6aXBcoPxNkveJ396UbmoIoSZSD_t9lkspVcNz1M0BZ1UVcB/s1600/DSC_1404-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio13PZQXR7AGktOv04KnMrTz0f9P45YN-bzFFUpPL4XtH4Q3EGl4HzBynWNQ9F6AAmvBLsbrBuix9s7cHENgbUa2f1nQITg6aXBcoPxNkveJ396UbmoIoSZSD_t9lkspVcNz1M0BZ1UVcB/s400/DSC_1404-1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruffin and I had a great trip to the 1,000 year-old cypress tree at Sky Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The first time came as I was having lunch in Belzoni with my cousin Ruffin. He asked me to explain what I did for a living, which is always a challenge for me, and we started talking about how the Delta was getting a lot of federal grant dollars to improve health. I casually said "If y'all get it, Memphis won't get it since we are so close". Ruffin immediately came back with "What do you mean by "ya'll", you are one of us now!". Wow, what a moment for me; and very special since it came from Ruffin, the Mayor of Louise! <br />
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Just this past week, a Facebook friend posted a story on yet another stranger that was looking for a place to stay in Rolling Fork and how the community opened its arms to find him a place for the night and a hot meal. This was the second such story in just 8 weeks! Back in late October, the hospital, which had the only handicapped-accessible room in town, opened its doors to Rich, who was hand cycling his way down the Mississippi river corridor, raising funds for Convoy of Hope and crossing an item off his bucket list! (<b><a href="http://richsride.org/category/notes-from-the-road/" style="color: lime;" target="_blank">Read about Rich's trip</a></b> and scroll down for October 28 post to read about his adventure in Rolling Fork). This last week, Michael, a 29-year old Australian making his own trek down The River corridor, spent the night in Rolling Fork's B&B and was treated to a Flatland's Pizza dinner (<b><a href="http://www.journeydownthemississippi.blogspot.com/" style="color: lime;" target="_blank">Read about the hospitality</a></b> Michael received throughout the Mississippi Delta)! <br />
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I was so humbled by the giving spirit of my friends in Rolling Fork that I posted on Facebook how I, too, had experienced the hospitality of "Rolling Forkians". Quickly, a friend posted back that they now considered me a "Rolling Forkian" myself.<br />
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So, you see, I have been given the titles of "Deltan" and "Rolling Forkian", titles that are near and dear to my heart. But titles that do come with a lot of responsibility. Now, instead of being an observer, I am a member of this great community and as a new year approaches I am committed to becoming more involved in the fabric of the Delta.<br />
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I am reminded of my very first post on this blog:<br />
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"So now I start a new chapter in the Delta. I have rented a little house in Rolling Fork, MS for an entire year. It's my little piece of the Delta. A base camp, if you will, to learn what it is like to really live there".<br />
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And a later post where I hoped that "Maybe, just maybe, some day, I can say I am from there."<br />
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I'm not sure I am completely able to say I am from the Delta, but I know I am closer than I have ever been to being able to say just that.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-6214186344221060062011-10-16T22:21:00.004-05:002011-10-16T22:28:04.896-05:00Taking a Back RoadComing home from Nashville a couple of weeks ago, I decided to take the "long way home", the "slow way home".. Getting off the interstate and even the main highway just gives my soul a lift..I love seeing life as it is lived along the back roads..it is so much better than on the main road.<br />
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Here are my favorite back roads, mainly in the Mississippi Delta and a few other back roads, including that one I took home from Nashville, that have made my year special so far.<br />
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<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2elCchCJ7gQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-92198077640965652352011-10-14T15:40:00.000-05:002011-10-14T15:40:14.100-05:00I finally put my two most favorite media together: music and pictures. Here is my theme song for my year in the Delta mixed with my pictures making up a day in the Delta. To me, this is a celebration of the beauty of the Delta tied closely to reconnecting with the real me as I explore a life in the Delta.<br />
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<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0zC4GJzlXSw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-24220014302445438882011-08-11T17:17:00.001-05:002011-08-11T18:42:20.149-05:00Being Southern<div class="MsoNormal">Being Southern is obvious. My accent, often lovingly referred to as a “drawl”, advertises my region immediately. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Being Southern can be a real advantage in the work world, especially outside the South. People have told me for years that they just love to hear me talk (which is a good thing since I talk a lot!). Others have told me that they appreciate the graciousness, politeness, and the gentility that I bring to my job (well sometimes bring to my job). Still others, have been surprised when I proved to be a tough, successful negotiator.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But the ugly truth underlying all of this is that many think I am not as sophisticated, educated, or experienced as they are because I hail from the South. I’ve turned this into an advantage, but it is really sad and at times even makes me mad.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Last year I served on a national panel of experts in Washington, DC chosen because of our knowledge and experience in health policy. The panelist right next to me was talking about ideas that had been created “outside the beltway” and said “And, this idea came from Tennessee. Can you believe that anything creative really came out of Tennessee?”. I was astounded, although not completely surprised because I often hear our region denigrated at conferences. I did interrupt him and in a joking manner reminded him I was from Tennessee. I laughed, as did the audience, but it wasn't really funny to me.</div><br />
On a weekend trip last year with a colleague and some of her friends, a new acquaintance asked me what it was like to go to a dog fight. I looked at her quizzically and asked “what?” thinking maybe I had not heard her correctly. She asked the exact question again. Dumbfounded, I said “I don’t go to dog fights, I prefer a good cock fight”. You would have loved the look on her face! Of course, I immediately told her I had been to neither one, which I think actually surprised her.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve done a lot of thinking about why others think it is ok to be so openly insulting of a region of the country that, more than likely, they have never been to and one which is so special to me. I won’t belabor that thinking here, but I believe it has its roots in slavery, the Civil War, and the poverty, poor health, and what is often considered “radical” conservatism many see in our region.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is where the movie <b><a href="http://thehelpmovie.com/us/"><span style="color: lime;"><i>The Help</i></span></a></b> comes into this story. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I can’t remember when I have gone to a movie and laughed, cried, had personal regrets, and remembered the people I loved growing up that are now gone. I was transported back in time to the 1960's growing up in Memphis and the Delta.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The tears came early as I watched Aibileen lovingly teach her “baby girl” to say that she was smart, she was kind and she was important. All I could think of was Willie Belle helping my grandmother understand why I wanted to sit in the sunroom reading comic books instead of playing with local girls I barely knew. Willie Belle understood me in a way that even my family did not. Willie Belle was my Aibileen.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But not all of the memories evoked by the movie were fond ones. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was reminded of a time that I, like most of the white women in the movie, lacked courage. The details are private because I was not the only player in the drama. But, suffice it to say that even today, perhaps 10 years after the event, I still feel guilty that I could not convince others to join me in making something right that had become very wrong. I was told quite strongly that I should not interfere because “I was not from there”. So when I could not convince the others, I stepped back and let it lay. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There is a great moment in the film when a mother tells her daughter that “Courage often skips a generation” referring to the fact that her daughter was more courageous than she had been. The irony is that this mother had just been courageous herself, showing us all that redemption is possible and it is never too late to live with courage.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I fear that Southerners will see this movie differently from those outside the South. Many of us will see it in a very personal way. It will evoke both fond and bad memories. It will cause many of us to reflect on our own lives and our contributions to furthering bad situations or helping to eliminate them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Those outside the South won’t have the chance to see the movie this way. In a way, I feel sorry for them, as bringing my life to the movie enriched it so for me. I only hope that they don’t use this movie as one more reason to put space between us and them; to disparage the land, region and people I love..</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1NO1v8byH8IWWA7bAdgnagVIvueL45J0_IdzAsTvp6je7hKhqzBQhyphenhyphengR9dy6z_4mXoMtZN_E7vYMtK48NqLi7wnuBYBsSv1ZOZSWlitMo7Wk93GQTjeBUKKMX9sZOdYGOxJug-AxGZO5/s1600/Church+at+Grace%252C+MS+7-4-2011+10-55-45+AM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1NO1v8byH8IWWA7bAdgnagVIvueL45J0_IdzAsTvp6je7hKhqzBQhyphenhyphengR9dy6z_4mXoMtZN_E7vYMtK48NqLi7wnuBYBsSv1ZOZSWlitMo7Wk93GQTjeBUKKMX9sZOdYGOxJug-AxGZO5/s400/Church+at+Grace%252C+MS+7-4-2011+10-55-45+AM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Churches were prominently featured in The Help. Here is one of my favorites in Grace, MS</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">At the end of the movie, no one got up to leave until the final credits were over. Many of us clapped. Many were waiting for their tears to dry before they left the theater. I sat in my car in the parking lot telling Lee about my private lack of courage. And, I told him I can’t wait to get back to the Delta, where a piece of my heart will always live.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Maybe, just maybe, some day, I can say I am from there.</div>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-84057639148509157382011-07-03T19:52:00.002-05:002011-08-11T16:31:56.637-05:00CemeteriesWe visited the Vicksburg National Military Park yesterday. I had originally thought that there was just something "wrong" about visiting a Civil War battlefield during the 4th of July weekend, but when I learned that Pemberton surrendered to Grant on July 4, 1863, thus ending the battle (seige) of Vicksburg, somehow it seemed fitting.<br />
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Interesting side note: July 4th was such a painful day for Vicksburg that it took over 80 years for them to start celebrating it again! As said on the <b><a href="http://www.oldcourthouse.org/phototour.htm" style="color: lime;">Old Courthouse Museum's website</a><span style="color: lime;">:</span></b> "<span style="font-style: normal;">On </span><span style="font-style: normal;">July 4, 1863</span><span style="font-style: normal;">, the victorious Union Army marched into </span><span style="font-style: normal;">Vicksburg</span><span style="font-style: normal;">, and the </span><span style="font-style: normal;">United States</span><span style="font-style: normal;"> flag was raised over the courthouse. Having to surrender was bad enough, but doing it on Independence Day made things worse for the citizens, and they didn’t forget the pain of surrender. The city did not celebrate the holiday again for 82 years – </span><span style="font-style: normal;">July 4, <span class="GramE">1945</span></span><span class="GramE"><span style="font-style: normal;">,</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"> at the end of World War II was the next official celebration in </span><span style="font-style: normal;">Vicksburg</span><span style="font-style: normal;">."</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAamyJ_A7C1K1c3vAfzxJzy-4cRIjNyo4cXP_h4754Flg-lkk2TL0W-2SXGutxbJsz5V73nrHIqBrtsOVp6mzEp0vhsjBpHp26wAvYJByA_OWlVXR6Xok2Zpk5iIvNU_K-mUF0ZjxinWv/s1600/VicksburgCemetery3+7-2-2011+3-43-13+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAamyJ_A7C1K1c3vAfzxJzy-4cRIjNyo4cXP_h4754Flg-lkk2TL0W-2SXGutxbJsz5V73nrHIqBrtsOVp6mzEp0vhsjBpHp26wAvYJByA_OWlVXR6Xok2Zpk5iIvNU_K-mUF0ZjxinWv/s400/VicksburgCemetery3+7-2-2011+3-43-13+PM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vicksburg National Cemetery, burial ground for 17,000 Union soldiers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>One of the most beautiful and moving stops on the battlefield tour is the Vicksburg National Cemetery, where of the over 17,000 Union soldiers buried there, 13,000 are "unknown". Many of the Confederate soldiers were buried in Vicksburg's Cedar Hill Cemetery.<br />
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I have noticed that cemeteries seem to be all around me here in the Delta and they show up in very unexpected places. Well, that is a nice way to put it...very weird places would be more like it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY21DnTilrkS_bdpD2Zlb5wpaUISgTTGh6jZtZjFidIqYrA7wlgz8Vtb5fMdw7_zm_8T7IM2XQxYMzKsIppr0Zrmd7DKBFTjByatyp9Gi4bOuNM81uvcfUW2MoEY8uhiDONFzCDs7Wl5iU/s1600/Delta+Cemeteries-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY21DnTilrkS_bdpD2Zlb5wpaUISgTTGh6jZtZjFidIqYrA7wlgz8Vtb5fMdw7_zm_8T7IM2XQxYMzKsIppr0Zrmd7DKBFTjByatyp9Gi4bOuNM81uvcfUW2MoEY8uhiDONFzCDs7Wl5iU/s640/Delta+Cemeteries-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>For example, right here in rhe Rolling Fork, MS area, there is a cemetery in a corn field; another one behind a gas station on Highway 14; and another one next to a church. In Louise, the only cemetery I can find is along a creek bank. In Tunica County, a mound cemetery sits just a few feet off Highway 61.<br />
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In Memphis, cemeteries are behind stone walls, on the edge of town (or at least what used to be the edge of town), and are very formal, reverent places.<br />
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Down here, cemeteries seem to sprout up wherever they are needed. They are in the middle of something else. They just appear and seem to be a part of normal life.<br />
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I am used to putting death in its place. Because it is behind a wall, on the edge of town, I can deal with it when I want to deal with it. Down here, it just appears..totally unexpected...totally part of something else, like a corn field or a gas station. It cannot be avoided. It cannot be ignored.<br />
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Here in the Delta, death is not relegated to a part of town. It is not pushed off to the side. It is not forgotten. It is, indeed, always present. When death is always present, life takes on a different meaning and purpose. It is easier to remember that life is precious, all be it limited, when you have cemeteries that unexpectedly appear and remind you.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-67479528518705942492011-06-25T22:27:00.001-05:002011-07-03T21:50:42.633-05:00Cleaning Out Files<div class="MsoNormal">I dropped by my Mother’s yesterday and she was still in her pajamas at 4:00 in the afternoon.”Why?” I asked. Well, she had been cleaning out files.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My Mother has been into genealogy for as long as I can remember. She has tracked her family back to Scotland, through Virginia to Tennessee. We have family crests, faded photographs, burnt-edged court house records- all because she has taken so much time, effort and love to find out who we “come from”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">All of Mother’s records are on paper. She has file cabinet after file cabinet of original material, documenting every detail of “who begot who” throughout the generations. But although paper was her preferred method, she has put almost all of her knowledge into Family Tree Maker as well, entering her family history into the digital era.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08qH9_TaxsiN2How2flW2E5sHKCBwsgbcXdzuKmkyyr1HtcUfePwxaTyNzNjncVU3hiCAzpLKtSi1nQ2MEiUR5t210x3jTeOtjWTMuiUmG3ueIqsz0_EmXq8k9P-Thae4hEwol514Jxsr/s1600/PlainMamma+6-25-2011+10-12-08+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08qH9_TaxsiN2How2flW2E5sHKCBwsgbcXdzuKmkyyr1HtcUfePwxaTyNzNjncVU3hiCAzpLKtSi1nQ2MEiUR5t210x3jTeOtjWTMuiUmG3ueIqsz0_EmXq8k9P-Thae4hEwol514Jxsr/s320/PlainMamma+6-25-2011+10-12-08+PM.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Etna Brown Upshaw, Plain Mamma to me, at age 18 in 1892</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">She pointed to a now empty metal brown file cabinet telling me that Plain Mamma, my great-grandmother from Louise, MS, had given it to her and Daddy after they had been married about a year. She laughed that she had kept it for 60 years and now it was empty and she would give it to someone else that needed it. She had such fond memories of Plain Mamma, my Delta great-grandmother, remarking how practical and honest she was, even when it was not politically correct to be so!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As we sat in her den, I asked why she was going through all her files that day. Without any hesitation, she said “I want to have it all done so you and your brothers don’t have to worry about it after I die”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her words were very matter of fact. I imagine, she was telling it just as it was, for her. But for me, my immediate reaction was “take your time. Don’t finish too soon. Keep working on it. For if you finish, will you feel it is ok to die?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I know she is trying to get her life and her place in order. She will be 83 in August. I am sure her life and her death weigh heavy on her mind. She is getting ready. But for me, I don’t want her to get ready. I am not ready! I don’t think I will ever be ready!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For some strange reason, I am remembering my last month of pregnancy. All the old wives’ tales were showing themselves in me – I was definitely nesting. Getting ready for Lee by getting his room ready; his clothes ready; his bottles, dishes, diapers ready. Nature took over. I was on overdrive and God was showing me what to do to prepare for the new life that was about to join our family.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByDbUoSDCFnMBN688C0OVoA-iEclIovlASa0kWsM4f3gqqQ_LEKD1ZlhwdL-f6JEKb06xDwE4YO0tr77AGc7FmMvVzetzFBzdr1VMCIJ_hpDVFgbNmTSmpx48LZrO86mZFCKtSVI0jCub/s1600/Mother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByDbUoSDCFnMBN688C0OVoA-iEclIovlASa0kWsM4f3gqqQ_LEKD1ZlhwdL-f6JEKb06xDwE4YO0tr77AGc7FmMvVzetzFBzdr1VMCIJ_hpDVFgbNmTSmpx48LZrO86mZFCKtSVI0jCub/s320/Mother.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace Marie Hall Upshaw -- My Mother</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">I imagine my Mother is going through something similar. She is in overdrive. God is showing her what to do to get ready –ready for the new life outside this world that will be her’s at some point.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">When we are preparing for new life, we build nests. When we are preparing for the life after this, we clean out files. Either way, I am thankful that God helps us on our journey.</div>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-76642695894842773332011-05-31T16:58:00.009-05:002011-05-31T21:21:36.598-05:00FloodingAs the flood waters start to recede, and I am thankful that my Memphis home, Delta cottage, and Delta farm have not flooded, my mind is literally flooding with thoughts about the <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Mississippi_River_floods" style="color: lime;">Great Flood of 2011</a></b>. Here are a few:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAvftyNLiEK0SOUXLWsfCjFMzETg02-gGQqMj2A7JBqJcp6cQBZdRG3JveOnKkQGn-bSWe5WmGGHYOulb8APwGvTyjluW5E3T7r6N4ifje4UeUNzEglAfoEOTht708iomgEbWwEzMiPU-/s1600/MS_River_C3picnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAvftyNLiEK0SOUXLWsfCjFMzETg02-gGQqMj2A7JBqJcp6cQBZdRG3JveOnKkQGn-bSWe5WmGGHYOulb8APwGvTyjluW5E3T7r6N4ifje4UeUNzEglAfoEOTht708iomgEbWwEzMiPU-/s400/MS_River_C3picnik.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>The fear and uncertainty, that I felt only briefly and that others are still feeling, as we wait for the waters to recede, keeping our fingers crossed that the levees will hold until the gates can be opened (mid-June?) and the water levels drop in the backwater Delta.<br />
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The understanding that we better prepare, at least a little, for a flood that will hopefully never happen. Packing up silver, family photographs, and other special momentos of our life and lives before us so we too can pass these treasures on to future generations.<br />
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The tough morale decisions that had to be made to sacrifice the homes and businesses of a few to spare such a hardship on the many. <br />
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The realization that political decisions made over the past 84 years both saved the backwater Delta (through the development of a network of mainline and backwater levees, channels, and flood gates) and still left it vulnerable because the final stage of flood control, pumps on the backwater side of the levee, were vetoed in 2008 by the EPA.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2puB9y0zBXB8pTIlhll7URxD4AyvpBqpGPjuGwRmTLPdQFdew6liRAJUp-a8TvV9P9RSZHLQycM3wBgjmzSJQwdKSuDbMlKRM4e0AxLPUKOpRJf0OqUxfMiLF8mP0e7sM8k81qZqBJpPv/s1600/5MileRoadLeveeFlood-copyright+5-28-2011+3-31-40+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2puB9y0zBXB8pTIlhll7URxD4AyvpBqpGPjuGwRmTLPdQFdew6liRAJUp-a8TvV9P9RSZHLQycM3wBgjmzSJQwdKSuDbMlKRM4e0AxLPUKOpRJf0OqUxfMiLF8mP0e7sM8k81qZqBJpPv/s640/5MileRoadLeveeFlood-copyright+5-28-2011+3-31-40+PM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whittington Levee near our 5-Mile Farm, Louise, MS 5/28/11</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The economic impact on farmers that lost their crops; small businesses in small towns that have been washed away; casinos closed for 3 weeks leaving many jobless and tax revenues diminished.<br />
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The isolation, and general hassle, caused by flooded roads and highways.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU8KRPhUpqaDAjeazmuL25GW_wblvUINAmHbMb8wIdZpX8g3Gj5-4zfvWn7DKvzQIPRfFmxFFKGa46_tYRhtvqV2tFlGWqMpRFdc2VtzZjkbssV9Is-vyrrZQMUOr_WHMrsd_weZAUMbW/s1600/5MileRoadFloodcopyright+5-28-2011+3-34-39+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU8KRPhUpqaDAjeazmuL25GW_wblvUINAmHbMb8wIdZpX8g3Gj5-4zfvWn7DKvzQIPRfFmxFFKGa46_tYRhtvqV2tFlGWqMpRFdc2VtzZjkbssV9Is-vyrrZQMUOr_WHMrsd_weZAUMbW/s640/5MileRoadFloodcopyright+5-28-2011+3-34-39+PM.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old 5-Mile Road east of Whittington Levee, Humphreys County 5/28/11</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The brutal fact that, as devastating as the flood has been, the clean up will take longer and cost more, prolonging the suffering and economic damage.<br />
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But as horrible as the flood has been, there have been bright spots as well.<br />
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Normal, everyday people, started <b><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mississippi-Yazoo-Backwater-Flood-Updates-created-May-3-2011/117655291651095" style="color: lime;">facebook pages</a></b> to increase availability of accurate information and dispel rumors that only cause panic.<br />
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The <b><a href="http://www.mvd.usace.army.mil/" style="color: lime;">U.S. Army Corps of Engineers</a></b> proved that they are, indeed, one of our country's best assets, acting with knowledge, skill, professionalism, all to support their goal of protecting us from the flood.<br />
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It was fun learning about <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sand_boil" style="color: lime;">sand boils</a><span style="color: lime;">,</span></b> spillways, and that Google Earth is the easiest website to find the sea level of your home or business (who knew I would ever care?).<br />
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And natural disasters, do, in the end, bring people together. They remind us of our shared interests as well as our shared risk, pain, and even reward. They help build community and bind us to each other. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvxWHjKF4yRF3RHLugYAhySkmJazG1o1QKWHfK8zxanfaDbz6nH3mA1LbjNVaSoTLFbfAtat4HHzXcH7QVXCqMLf49P0k4HqmaKN4z1TMyM6VMlPYL_3sVO_G8xgAtkwrzznITRXO2aY_/s1600/stillfloodedfinalcopyright+5-20-2011+7-18-50+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvxWHjKF4yRF3RHLugYAhySkmJazG1o1QKWHfK8zxanfaDbz6nH3mA1LbjNVaSoTLFbfAtat4HHzXcH7QVXCqMLf49P0k4HqmaKN4z1TMyM6VMlPYL_3sVO_G8xgAtkwrzznITRXO2aY_/s640/stillfloodedfinalcopyright+5-20-2011+7-18-50+PM.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Great Flood of 2011 10 days after the crest at Memphis, TN 5/20/11</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I wonder if my grandchildren will ask me to tell them the stories of the <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Mississippi_River_floods" style="color: lime;">Great Flood of 2011</a></b> the way I used to ask my Delta grandparents to tell me, once again, about the <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Mississippi_Flood_of_1927" style="color: lime;">Great Flood of 1927</a></b>. I hope they do but I hope they will not live through their own flood, and will only have my stories to tell their grandchildren.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-42832089636790678812011-05-04T16:59:00.009-05:002011-05-05T08:31:19.318-05:00Out of Control<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugv-ZfXS7Owh-fLYGtmJpHLSkX6ooZTIWYgHH19Ypl7I3sWdhR5c6Pnuz9au7p_1XpMZUNYF8mmt6twOBv8FcorayY94-vxVxfoSEoXMCedZSnlmLxRyc1QYFKmh1iMjM9vQtChJUyBfa/s1600/219427_1749455816130_1230872865_31429171_6607296_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugv-ZfXS7Owh-fLYGtmJpHLSkX6ooZTIWYgHH19Ypl7I3sWdhR5c6Pnuz9au7p_1XpMZUNYF8mmt6twOBv8FcorayY94-vxVxfoSEoXMCedZSnlmLxRyc1QYFKmh1iMjM9vQtChJUyBfa/s320/219427_1749455816130_1230872865_31429171_6607296_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Refugees from the Great Flood of 1927</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I will always remember my Delta family stories of <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Mississippi_Flood_of_1927" style="color: lime;">"The Great Flood of 1927"</a></b>. My grandparent's house in Louise, MS was forever marked about 6 feet up on the walls with a faint line that I was told was the flood water line. The story is that they built wooden platforms on which they placed their furniture, and then roped the platforms near the ceiling. I always wondered if these stories were true, but my Mother mentioned it again even last night...as we now are waiting for our own "flood of the century".<br />
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This spring the South has been exceptionally challenged with what seems to be Mother Nature's unruly behavior. It actually started this winter when Memphis experienced a snow or ice storm every week during January. Even the Delta had more than its share (which is usually none) of snow and ice. The spring thunderstorms and tornadoes came quickly on the heels of the unexpected winter and have brought ravage to my three favorite states: Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama. There I was feeling scared and "out of control" as I rode out my first tornado in my Rolling Fork, MS cottage not knowing that a mere two weeks later so much of my beloved Tuscaloosa, AL, home of the Alabama Crimson Tide (Roll Tide), would be demolished by an <b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ohIVzIZLuQ" style="color: lime;">EF4 tornado</a></b>. It sure put my little scare into perspective.<br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div>But if unexpected snow, ice and tornadoes weren't enough, all of us in the Delta are now waiting for "the flood of the century". As opposed to tornadoes, you can get early warning about a flood. The scientists can monitor the rising rivers; measure the rainfall amounts; track, graph, and forecast future water levels; calculate the amount of water that can be held back by the levees; and, alas, even model how far and deep the flood waters will flow. I picture some green eye-shaded scientists, number crunchers, and hydrologists (I just learned these professionals even existed) busily working in a basement to get all of this important information to the higher ups so that it can be used to save lives and businesses.<br />
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This very logical, business approach to gathering and disseminating information to people like you and me in advance of disaster has now been forever changed by Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube; and smart phones and iPads. Officials used to have the keys to information and they shared it when THEY felt it was appropriate. Today, WE all have the keys to information and expect to get official news quickly. We are often unhappy (or sometimes down right angry) if we don't get that news when WE want it, not when the officials want to give it to us.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-J9ff43QAPSe-ouBrDkFbfmVfSrNA6XfwxYoIAEuUgplwhttoFoPdki3yjEQ21XGRoUbZxeukzr9ddUCmq8gv1iRA1LHORCU4iMw8ZfPxmDR9zq3IuLg-vmJt2iw-JjlQNbmSmaMyjlQ/s1600/Aviary+facebook-com+Picture+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-J9ff43QAPSe-ouBrDkFbfmVfSrNA6XfwxYoIAEuUgplwhttoFoPdki3yjEQ21XGRoUbZxeukzr9ddUCmq8gv1iRA1LHORCU4iMw8ZfPxmDR9zq3IuLg-vmJt2iw-JjlQNbmSmaMyjlQ/s320/Aviary+facebook-com+Picture+1.png" width="320" /></a></div>Facebook pages from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers are keeping people in the <b><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Memphis-Business-Group-on-Health/58580808579#%21/pages/Vicksburg-District-US-Army-Corps-of-Engineers/145035842180582" style="color: lime;">Mississippi Delta</a></b><span style="color: lime;">,</span> Missouri, Nashville, and communities potentially impacted by the flood up to date. Information on river gauge levels, including graphs and charts, are available on the <b><a href="http://www2.mvr.usace.army.mil/WaterControl/new/layout.cfm" style="color: lime;">Corps of Engineer</a></b> and <a href="http://water.weather.gov/ahps/index.php"><b><span style="color: lime;">NOAA</span></b> </a>websites. NOAA even has an <b><a href="http://water.weather.gov/ahps/forecasts.php" style="color: lime;">"advanced hydrologic prediction service"</a></b> on their site that shows past and future river water levels for several locations on any river you could care about! Easy access to these social media tools and sites "democratizes" information, making it just as available to me as it is to the green-eye-shade scientists and statisticians. And, this information is available when we want and need it. As an aside, Facebook has played an important role in mobilizing volunteers and donations helping the victims of the recent tornadoes. Toomer's for Tuscaloosa, Auburn students/grads/fans providing help for victims of the April 27 tornadoes, has over 80,000 "fans" and is mobilizing support all over the country for supplies and donations. <br />
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But not all officials are taking advantage of these new tools. For example, the <b><a href="http://www.staysafeshelby.us/" style="color: lime;">Shelby County Office of Preparedness</a></b> here in Memphis updates their website about once a day, usually in the evening. It appears they may update their flood maps more frequently, but they don't let anyone know when an update has been posted and don't date and time-stamp their updates either. They don't have a push strategy at all -- they expect us to come to them. Even the Memphis District of the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers doesn't have a Facebook page, so Memphis area residents have to rely on the other Districts for information.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNNpBhm0AA-jK4LajC7mZw5-fNcc9KZoWWfNV5Kc4UlDDvey2v1DvccM5gZF4UQbpuEBAHWzFIJHtSiCSalo_nAkWzte9xi3zFFtiCdCo2Ft0AMiQZJta5l8Aj_Nf-V8GC7VRh3plYsKS/s1600/DSC_1007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNNpBhm0AA-jK4LajC7mZw5-fNcc9KZoWWfNV5Kc4UlDDvey2v1DvccM5gZF4UQbpuEBAHWzFIJHtSiCSalo_nAkWzte9xi3zFFtiCdCo2Ft0AMiQZJta5l8Aj_Nf-V8GC7VRh3plYsKS/s320/DSC_1007.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wolf River Greenway, Memphis, TN as water receded on April 30, 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So, all I can do is sit back and wait for the "flood of the century". I now have to worry about it for two houses!! In Memphis, my home sits almost on the banks of the Wolf River and has been off, on, and now off again the "likely" flooded list. In Rolling Fork, my house will flood (as will the entire city of Rolling Fork, Louise and all our farm land) if the Mighty Mississippi floods elevations up to 107 feet. The latest news I have (and I will be checking YouTube and Facebook right after I finish this post) is that they expect flooding up to 95 feet. So, for the moment both of my homes and communities are safe.<br />
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Having this information helps me feel a little more in control. I can at least think through contingency plans (e.g., have already moved the rugs upstairs and will move the upholstered furniture up there if we go back on the list; can go down to Rolling Fork to help move furniture out of the cottage next weekend). I can prepare myself for the fear, disappointment, and concern I will have if the flood does come to me and my family. I can begin to focus on what I can do to help others.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZLegji88uUQCp00qAaSYvGiX4Ndo_QTMo2awiNtWzwRoaEuSaIZh2-SCNZEUoDuNNzTvV39TcbAuAB96l8eCSd03CgmVNJ51_2-LeL_dXs_k9utsLsEuP7AUD2NeGp0x0xjcZhbHnPCD/s1600/MS+Delta+Flood+Predictions+May+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZLegji88uUQCp00qAaSYvGiX4Ndo_QTMo2awiNtWzwRoaEuSaIZh2-SCNZEUoDuNNzTvV39TcbAuAB96l8eCSd03CgmVNJ51_2-LeL_dXs_k9utsLsEuP7AUD2NeGp0x0xjcZhbHnPCD/s320/MS+Delta+Flood+Predictions+May+2011.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Estimated inundation of the backwater area May 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>In the last "Great Flood" in 1927, 27,000 square miles were flooded with the flooded area being 50 miles wide and 100 miles long. It caused over $400 million in damages and 246 people were killed in 7 states. At one time, the Mississippi River reached a width of 60 miles, just south of Memphis. My Mississippi Delta grandparents saved their furniture by putting it on platforms and raising the platforms up to the ceiling. <br />
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Every now and then Mother Nature has a way of reminding us that we are not in control. I guess this season, she is taking several opportunities to drive that message home. I hope we are listening!Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-37591966009476179512011-04-20T21:11:00.001-05:002011-04-20T21:23:08.384-05:00Abandon the Delta?As I am beginning a new life in the Mississippi Delta, I was reminded of how insulted I was when a columnist in the Commercial Appeal suggested it was just time to give up on the Delta and "move the people to a place where they could be helped". There are so many things wrong with this statement..moving people..helping them (as if we want to be moved or need "their" help) that I could not even bring myself to deal with them all, but I had to voice my support for the Delta even back in 2009. I am not sure opinion has changed much since then, so those of us that care, need to still be vigilant and make the case for why the Delta matters! Here is my letter to the editor from November 22, 2009.<br />
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"In your Nov. 8, 2009 Viewpoint article <a href="http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2009/nov/08/bluer-blues-grim-figures-tell-of-region-on-the/" style="color: lime;">"Bluer blues / Grim figures tell of region on the ropes," </a>economist David Ciscel said, "It's probably time to recognize that economic development in many rural counties is hopeless. Yes, we should care about the Delta, but we should not try to improve it any longer. It is time to move the people to a place where they can be helped."<br />
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I guess that means we just turn out the lights, lock the gates and wave goodbye on our way out of town. After all, to an economist, it is "irrational" for people to be living in the Delta anyway. Since they are "irrational," we have to step up and help them. It is our duty. This is what Ciscel seems to be saying, and I find it totally unacceptable.<br />
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First, I can't imagine that the lights would be out for long. Someone would design a way to make the Delta productive; its land and resources are too valuable to leave fallow. But the people who had sweated for generations over it would be gone and it would be new investors who would profit. Maybe that's the plan.<br />
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Perhaps the problem is that we have been looking to 20th century solutions for the Delta. Little to no new manufacturing is being developed anywhere in the U.S., so why do we think it is the solution in the Delta?<br />
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What about micro-loans for new small businesses? What about continued efforts to bring needed 21st century infrastructure, such as Internet, cable and wireless communications, so new business models could work in the Delta? What about creating a spoke-and-hub system, capitalizing on areas that can become regional centers of growth and opportunity to feed the Delta's more remote rural areas?<br />
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My Delta grandfather always told me that our land in Louise, Miss., was holding the world together. If it weren't there, our world would fall apart. My child's mind could so easily picture that; it made perfect sense to me then and does to this day. The Delta is indeed important, and to suggest we just walk away from it is not an alternative.<br />
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Cristie Upshaw Travis<br />
MemphisCristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-57122690236758069772011-04-19T09:50:00.004-05:002011-04-20T07:22:14.939-05:00Taking TimeI took my time on my last trip down into the Delta. A lot of time. For the first time, I spent 3 nights and had 2 full days at my little cottage. With so much time came new experiences and perspectives.<br />
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One of my goals in having my own place in the Delta was to really live there. I know that is not totally possible as my home is still in Memphis and, at least for awhile, I will be a visitor, although perhaps a frequent one. But living somewhere does require a commitment that just being a visitor does not require. For example:<br />
<br />
When you live somewhere, you get to know your neighbors. My new next door neighbor dropped by one afternoon just to introduce herself. I was on a business call and could not spend time with her, but I thought about the hospitality she showed me, a total stranger, even though I wouldn't be there full time. I knocked on her door the morning I left, hoping to return her kindness, but she was not at home. I must be sure and reach out to her next time I am there.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGT5ZAwDgT7TH90XHrluPBmijzpxVqcyT-jbZwxb9sIL-w_7T6FQfpjYEammq55j3hY2Fy4ZOaDJCTxxi-ZGFZbhESA3ziGyORiXRzZDznwSAM9Dj-CygbynqpISdJEb1X8GBNoeDwhzZ2/s1600/monthelenadreamrevisited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGT5ZAwDgT7TH90XHrluPBmijzpxVqcyT-jbZwxb9sIL-w_7T6FQfpjYEammq55j3hY2Fy4ZOaDJCTxxi-ZGFZbhESA3ziGyORiXRzZDznwSAM9Dj-CygbynqpISdJEb1X8GBNoeDwhzZ2/s320/monthelenadreamrevisited.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mont Helena goes dark during "A Dream Revisited"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When you live somewhere, you support local events. As luck would have it, a new friend of mine had an extra ticket to<span style="color: lime;"> </span><a href="http://www.monthelena.com/A_Dream_Revisited.html" style="color: lime;">"Mont Helena: A Dream Revisited"</a> and asked me to go with her, her husband and her mother. It was a wonderful, very professional performance in the very house where the main characters had lived, loved and died. There is no better way to bring a house to life than to know the family that made it a home. An added benefit of attending was meeting so many people! My hostess graciously introduced me to literally everyone and they were all so welcoming. I hope they will forgive me if I don't remember all their names!<br />
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When you live somewhere, you become involved. I already feel myself being drawn into the community. It started with a joke (well, at least I think it was a joke since it was followed by LOL) about volunteering at "A Dream Revisited" next year. I started to think about it and decided to take the offer up and suggest that perhaps there was a way to get involved at the fall festival. That's all it took, someone invited me and I said yes, and the opportunities are flowing in, including one to meet the hospital administrator in town to explore how I may be supportive.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSdBKbU7Syf-V5AN8QfUlEuVEPJ7qs_ZKnc9CduJf7zgzT4lEh83aVV0sXfhL00iBa-falOadiSFxCPcFUE1f0o54Qz9GDREsrOpeIplG4ZEmwAxBoGvd_RCQGyyULeyBf5dQgdc2sc4d/s1600/JDU1861Stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSdBKbU7Syf-V5AN8QfUlEuVEPJ7qs_ZKnc9CduJf7zgzT4lEh83aVV0sXfhL00iBa-falOadiSFxCPcFUE1f0o54Qz9GDREsrOpeIplG4ZEmwAxBoGvd_RCQGyyULeyBf5dQgdc2sc4d/s320/JDU1861Stone.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Great-Grandfather, the first of 5 Jefferson Davis Upshaws</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When you live somewhere, you take the time to explore. I found myself half-way to Yazoo City one day so decided, what the heck, just go all the way there. I had not been to see Daddy since January and thought a trip to Glenwood Cemetery on a sky blue day would be a nice outing. Once there I did my usual thing, but because I had time, I noticed things I had never paid attention to before. I noticed that my great-grandfather, the first Jefferson Davis Upshaw, was born in May, 1861. That was just one month after the beginning of The Civil War (or The War, as we call it around here). I cannot even imagine what his parents were feeling with his birth -- the joy of new life and the fear of war and death.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg09wgfByBNdDv8z46AEBoTNW-pPAFrmMhfZ_2FqIRcT7Q2qPvsFOdYxBWvVQVJ-YTGq3jmzfM6z5OT8wTDC-k2obDajYz5V1lEWg35wbyf0Pa1WLTQ5pyqIyDZXSP9RdPA9xnDh_An82O/s1600/Confederate+soldiers+4-14-2011+12-18-47+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg09wgfByBNdDv8z46AEBoTNW-pPAFrmMhfZ_2FqIRcT7Q2qPvsFOdYxBWvVQVJ-YTGq3jmzfM6z5OT8wTDC-k2obDajYz5V1lEWg35wbyf0Pa1WLTQ5pyqIyDZXSP9RdPA9xnDh_An82O/s320/Confederate+soldiers+4-14-2011+12-18-47+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mass grave of 700-800 Confederate soldiers in Glenwood Cemetery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I also noticed a small American flag planted in the ground near a group of graves. I strolled to the spot and was surprised to find a mass grave of 700-800 unknown Confederate soldiers who fought to protect Yazoo City at the Battle of Benton Road. What a loss it was for them, their families, their community. Every life is precious and losing so many at one time reminds us how bloody that war was for our country. As we recognize the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War this very month, we should remember that nothing has compared to it since in U.S. history.<br />
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When you live somewhere, you take what comes. Finally, I rode out my first tornado weather on this last trip to the Delta. Thank God I had so many enjoyable experiences on this trip because I needed them to make up for the rain, wind, hail and tornadoes! It was definitely un-nerving and perhaps scary, but my little cottage and I made it through unscathed. So, I have my first weather battle scar. I hope it is the only one I get, but I doubt that will be true.<br />
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I am so glad I took the time to get to know some of the people and places of the Delta. It is, I realize now, a journey I will be on all year. But the more time I take, the deeper into the fabric of the area I will go, and I think that is what having a place there was all about any way.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-86311419562682780742011-04-03T19:17:00.009-05:002011-05-31T21:34:58.744-05:00Figuring It OutI've never had a second home. Many of my friends have lake houses; some have beach houses or condos; a few have hunting camps; one has a house in east Memphis and a condo in downtown Memphis.<br />
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These are the traditional second homes --- well, maybe not the condo in downtown Memphis. I have had to explain many times why I have a second home in the Delta. It's not traditional; it's not usual. My home is not on a lake filled with canoes, boats, skiers, sun worshipers. It is not a hunting lodge where you end a long day of solitude, cold, and wet with a hearty meal shared with fellow hunters. It is not a cool refuge offering a cold drink after a hot day on the beach,. So what is it?<br />
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Given this is my first weekend, I don't know yet. I am still trying to figure it out.<br />
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There are some things that are easy:<br />
<ul><li>Now I know that the grocery stores are closed on Sundays. Note to self, be sure you have everything for Sunday supper by Saturday night!</li>
<li>I learned last night (Saturday) that the Delta stays up really late! And, they love to party! It seems that Friday was pay day and with money in their pockets, they rocked until the wee hours of the morning.</li>
<li>I was reminded this weekend, that everyone pretty much knows where you are and what you are doing in the Delta. No hiding. No sneaking through town on a back road hoping no one will know you were there. Having a red car doesn't help me in that regard either!</li>
</ul>But I am beginning to figure out some of the other stuff too:<br />
<ul><li>I learned that although small, the congregation at Louise Methodist Church is dedicated and steadfast -- with a prayer list that is 5 times the number that attend regularly and loving volunteers that keep the church and its grounds spotless and beautiful. No paid staff here!</li>
<li> I experienced a church service where there was a real conversation between the preacher and congregation and the congregation with each other. There were announcements and celebrations of victorious baseball tournaments: people were added to or taken off the prayer list. It was a congregation that knew each other and used worship time to be there for each other. I sat in my Pa's place on the second pew on the left..I could almost feel his presence.</li>
<li>I figured out that there is a great divide between HWY 61 and HWY 49. In my summers in Louise, on HWY 49, we never oriented west toward 61..we always went east to Yazoo City and south to Jackson. I know that my family is disappointed that I am not in Louise, I am disappointed too. But the opportunity was here in Rolling Fork and I took it. So, now I get to explore and appreciate HWY 61. But it will never be HWY 49! That will always be home to me.</li>
</ul><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbcm6N5gqZWsGKUdjT5y8fUAEiej2FDs0JDa6ZwaFama4Jx3iB7iZBG4zChbIW_2whGA3uC3G-kXDon1aQzGUmMyM5OUNL1VciaTpC7zxxXFG98W-li5VxVOR49GfhaHTYTrpzV5wOvdQ/s1600/5mileegret-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbcm6N5gqZWsGKUdjT5y8fUAEiej2FDs0JDa6ZwaFama4Jx3iB7iZBG4zChbIW_2whGA3uC3G-kXDon1aQzGUmMyM5OUNL1VciaTpC7zxxXFG98W-li5VxVOR49GfhaHTYTrpzV5wOvdQ/s640/5mileegret-2.jpg" width="508" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delta egret near my 5-Mile Farm, Louise, MS</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Finally, I am beginning to explore the cypress swamps and creeks of my own backyard and they are just as beautiful as the ones I have already found in other parts of the Delta. I continue to be amazed that the Delta is filled with beautiful land and beautiful people. But, I knew that already. I didn't have to figure that out!Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-88229980147893839922011-03-25T23:00:00.004-05:002011-05-31T21:24:15.520-05:00Waking UpI love the idea of "working" in the Delta. Now that I have my place in Rolling Fork, I can imagine going down on a Friday morning or even a Thursday evening and working from the cottage on the internet (yes, even in Rolling Fork we have internet) and cell phone (yes, even in Rolling Fork, we have AT&T coverage). After all, a lot of what I do is talk to people, either on the phone or on email, Facebook, or Twitter! Or I am researching on the internet or creating documents on my computer. I can do that down in the Delta as easily as from Memphis!<br />
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But today, I had a real reason to work in the Delta. I had an appointment in Clarksdale, MS, so I headed south from Memphis after a morning meeting, having already plotted my path...Memphis to Tunica..have a late breakfast at the Blue & White on Highway 61...stop by to see if the eagles were still nesting and if "my" cypress swamp had changed with the seasons...take Old Highway 61 through Lula to Clarksdale...and find my way to my meeting.<br />
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What I didn't expect was how busy the Delta would be today. Just two weeks ago, there was no action in the fields. All was quiet and peaceful..no action for miles. But today, the Delta was a buzz.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTZOaCld3zsp4u4LrOFzJcyrk09Sd22GID2bVE1OoaYYwkr6tkRZ5jkiIXri4gwW-6wLF41RXa3hq9bBqKOtd2i1Ed-KhnSTE5IRtgc-gmze-GOPe4K-oWP6kMAAzr_4PN3AUrGQjxhpK/s1600/newdirt-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTZOaCld3zsp4u4LrOFzJcyrk09Sd22GID2bVE1OoaYYwkr6tkRZ5jkiIXri4gwW-6wLF41RXa3hq9bBqKOtd2i1Ed-KhnSTE5IRtgc-gmze-GOPe4K-oWP6kMAAzr_4PN3AUrGQjxhpK/s400/newdirt-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I could smell the fresh, turned up dirt in the fields. I could see the dust thrown up by the trucks, tractors, and other farm equipment making their way down dirt rows or tilling new rows to ready them for planting. Even the yellow crop dusters were flying about. Every now and then, some piece of farm equipment blocked the road and slowed me down. But for some reason, I didn't mind...it just meant I could spend a little more time enjoying the moment.<br />
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I made several bat turns to go back to take a picture of a tractor tilling the land. I am sure the guys driving those tractors wondered why a middle-aged woman in a red Toyota Camry Hybrid was so interested in their work??? I mean, if you live in the Delta all the time, this is just normal activity. No big deal.<br />
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There is a cycle to farming. You till; you plant; you water; you harvest; you store; you sell; and then you start all over again. But for a city girl, there is just something about the dirt, the dust, the physical labor of it all. Something that just yells, "I am really working". This is not whimpy work; not virtual work through email, conference calls, Facebook or Twitter. This is get your hands dirty work! <br />
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My grandfather, Pa, knew this type of work. He, with the help of others, literally cleared his Delta land by hand. I have been told he used the "deadening" method of girdling the trees (cutting a band around the trunk), which, over about two years, killed the tree, making it easier to cut down. The tree limbs and, sometimes stumps, were burned, and hauled off. We still call the first field he farmed "The Deadnin" after this process used to clear the land. At the end of the Civil War, 90% of the Delta bottomland was still undeveloped and covered by ancient forests and swamps. Thousands of people came to the Delta where they traded their labor to clear the land to purchase it for themselves.The Delta is what it is today, because these people cleared it and farmed it. I cannot even imagine how much work it required to change so much land!<br />
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There is part of me that longs to have this type of work. After all, you can see the fruits of your labor. You see the seedlings turn into productive plants that you then harvest, store and sell. You see the land turn over anew each year with the promise (or hope) that new life will grow in the old fields. You physically feel the work yourself: you sweat and ache from your efforts.<br />
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I bet my Delta friends and family are laughing at me for saying all of this. For, in reality, working in the Delta is not always this romantic.<br />
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I can remember watching Delta farmers trying to salvage their rice crops after the winds of Katrina ravaged their fields...toiling to harvest whatever they could after all the rice had "laid" down with the counterveiling winds. I know that for many Thanksgivings, soy beans were left in the fields to rot because the fall rains came early and it just wasn't possible to get the beans out in time. And the years that disease attacked acres and acres of corn fields, leaving nothing for all the expense and effort it took to make the crop.<br />
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And, many Delta farmers have just given up. They weren't able to pay off prior year loans with the next crop and then had no collateral to offer up for the next year,,, so, out of business after a lifetime, and sometimes generations, of farming. Many had to either sell or lease their land to those few farmers that had the capital to farm. Or, as you can clearly see driving through much of the Delta, many farmers just let their land go to seed.. or waste.<br />
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So, I know that really working in the Delta is not quite the picture I paint in my mind. But I do love to see the Delta come alive this time of year. It is a time of renewal; a time of hope; a time of activity. After a long winter, it is good to see the Delta waking up.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-2303610096581280572011-03-21T19:38:00.001-05:002011-03-22T14:57:38.416-05:00Proper GrammarBefore any of you try to correct my grammar in my blog's name, know that the name is really a quote from Miranda Lambert's song "The House That Built Me" which has become my theme song for how I feel about the Delta.<br />
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Not because it was my home, because it wasn't. Not because it built me, because it didn't. But in many ways because I am reconnecting with who I am, which is what the song is really about.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/DQYNM6SjD_o/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DQYNM6SjD_o&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DQYNM6SjD_o&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div>Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-7754433432089215972011-03-20T22:21:00.003-05:002011-05-31T21:24:37.822-05:00Butter KnivesAfter Daddy died, Jeff and I got together to divide the "stuff". Walker couldn't be there, which was really dangerous for him, but we promised him we would be fair!<br />
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About a year before, I had taken the silver from Daddy's condo and inventoried it, sending a list to both Jeff & Walker to "protect" myself for sure. So when Jeff and I got together it was really just about seeing what was there and dividing it into thirds.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZwChWMcUk02_D1VG6CWl0BZLlXkddynlL7fllKXz7k_9P33shmr2dJB_FV5Du8Q-JP_J3N2S8xbyu3PbdmpUv7r3hqsC2TmITe1y98mDijydxJHaZxtK3Iv1plH0iXFTrB_znqvvYTld/s1600/coffeeurnleftsepia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZwChWMcUk02_D1VG6CWl0BZLlXkddynlL7fllKXz7k_9P33shmr2dJB_FV5Du8Q-JP_J3N2S8xbyu3PbdmpUv7r3hqsC2TmITe1y98mDijydxJHaZxtK3Iv1plH0iXFTrB_znqvvYTld/s400/coffeeurnleftsepia.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Chris' coffee urn was very contemporary</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My Delta grandmother loved sliver. She used it every day, as if it was nothing special. Although, she knew it was special and we knew it was special too. But she didn't keep it hidden away only for special occasions; she used it all the time. So, it was well worn by the time it got to me and my brothers. But, that was and is part of its charm.<br />
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It's funny how mores change. When I went to her home in the Delta, dinner was the meal in the middle of the day and she had all her finery in full show. Sterling silver place settings and serve ware. Crystal water glasses as well as ice tea glasses. Ice tea spoons that also served as "straws" (a real gem I wish we still had). Dessert forks, salad forks, salad knives and meat knives. They were all there and all monogrammed with a "U" labeling them as ours.<br />
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But the most special pieces were the individual butter plates and butter knives.I know fine hotels had place settings like these, but no one I knew ate like this at home. Only at my grandparents, both in Memphis and Louise, did we have such luxuries. I especially loved the butter knives. They were petite, sturdy, and beautiful! <br />
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When we looked at Daddy's silver, we saw there was a set of 12 butter knives. In today's world very few of us have 12 people for a formal dinner and when we do, we never have an individual butter plate for each person. What is the need for 12 butter knives any more? <br />
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So, we divided the 12 into thirds with each of us got four knives, and, I am sure, thinking, "when and how will we ever use these?".<br />
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My sweet niece Jennifer got married in December. I bought her the usual stuff a bride is excited to get...a mandolin, a stainless steel microplane grater, paring knives, and some type of pancake batter thing-a-ma-jig. But I also decided to give her a butter knife. A monogrammed butter knife from her great-grandmother from the Delta. They never knew each other.. but I hope that by having her great-grandmother's butter knife, she will, in some small way, carry the memory of the Delta into her life.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4882632551710075880.post-14248957626858921222011-03-20T21:45:00.003-05:002011-05-31T21:25:00.834-05:00A Saved ChocolateFunny how you just do some things and think back later and wonder why you did them.<br />
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I saved a chocolate from my stay at the Alluvian Hotel a little over a week ago. Why did I do that?<br />
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Well, probably because I love chocolate and just can't think of not taking a "free" piece with me when I leave a hotel. But, this piece, for some reason, was more important to save.<br />
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I think I was trying, in some small way, to save the memories of that Friday night.<br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"></div>Lee and I left Memphis for our first trip alone together to "THE DELTA". He was so sweet to agree to come with me to Rolling Fork to see my new place. But, we couldn't check in until Saturday. There was no way I was only going to have one night in the Delta, so we made reservations at the Alluvian in Greenwood for Friday night and ventured south from Memphis on a Friday afternoon.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht0DNykaF9QsbE0Q4wfVuyUlxiVAokpVw66h6A5bVWs_IZAp-wIDLbrsBq6iHS5NtFSeDfejVJ5m6YcRXWBgwKEeBo3D8UXnv85IUh_ChU7V1nF4o5yibRVfPRQSagX5BmyJVMfHTatold/s1600/b%2526Wgardenias-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht0DNykaF9QsbE0Q4wfVuyUlxiVAokpVw66h6A5bVWs_IZAp-wIDLbrsBq6iHS5NtFSeDfejVJ5m6YcRXWBgwKEeBo3D8UXnv85IUh_ChU7V1nF4o5yibRVfPRQSagX5BmyJVMfHTatold/s400/b%2526Wgardenias-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diners have their own private booths at the Alluvian's Giardinas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We arrived around 5:00 and had dinner reservations at a near-by restaurant at 6:00. With not much time to waste, we headed straight for the Alluvian bar! We started out at a table, but when a place at the bar opened up, we were johnny on the spot. I told Lee that it is always more fun to be at the bar and talk to the folks sitting there than to be at a table by yourself. Good advice for a 21 year old just beginning to understand bars!<br />
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Well, we were not disappointed. I recognized a regular right away. In fact, he was sitting in the same seat back last September when Pat and I had ventured into the Delta for a music festival. He was holding court with an old guard Leflore County couple. He is from Tallahatchie County, which always makes me think about that tragic story captured in song about someone jumping off the Tallahatchie bridge!<br />
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As we got settled in, an older gentleman worked his way to the bar with help from one of the waiters. He had been sitting at a table too, just waiting for a spot to open up, just like us! He moved slowly due to recent surgery. He told us later he was in Greenwood for physical therapy.<br />
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What a great visit we had. We talked with him about college, film and media (Lee's major at Birmingham-Southern), Louise (yes he knew where it was), my new place in Rolling Fork, and his life in Sumner, about 30 minutes from Greenwood. He knew the bar tenders by name (as did the guy sitting in the corner) and they treated him and us with such grace and deference.<br />
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The Alluvian bar is a great place to really get to understand the Delta. People come there to meet others and to engage others. It is not a stuffy bar at all. It is about saying hello, and "where you from", and "do you know so and so", and "where are you going for dinner?" As you can tell, they have their own set of regulars. We even met a couple from Collierville, TN sitting at a nearby table. We were close friends by the end of the evening.<br />
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The art of conversation is definitely appreciated in the Alluvian bar.<br />
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The Alluvian bar is not the exception at all. It is the rule. People in the Delta are waiting for an excuse to talk with you! All you have to do is pause a little and they are pulling you in and out of your shell.<br />
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They say that the lobby bar at The Peabody Hotel in Memphis is the beginning of the Delta. If so, the Alluvian bar is in the heart of the Delta You never met a stranger at the Alluvian bar. You are "everyman" and you are talking to everyone at the bar..all connected by being there and in the Delta at the same time.Cristie Upshaw Travishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03419443357129821433noreply@blogger.com0