Where I come from, ‘the river‘ means only one thing – The Mighty Mississippi. Only a few miles away from my home, he is the life source for the entire delta region, the reason our little towns even exist. These towns that are so important to us. Old Man River connects us to the gulf, to the rest of the world. Our grand highway to export soybeans and rice and corn. Our livelihood.
Our soul.
America’s mightiest river.
Have you seen how low the river is lately?
NO ONE asks, which river?
When mentioned in passing, no one confuses him with the White River or the St. Francis River or the Buffalo River, although all amazing waterways.
Like Elvis, no one asks which Elvis?
Which Madonna?
Which Cher?
Which Jesus?
Which Madonna?
Which Cher?
Which Jesus?
For those of us born on his riverbanks, his water courses through our veins. A source of inspiration and energy, a vigilant Father. Part of us.
As kids we often drove behind the levees to make sure the river was still there, like visiting an old relative. Often taken for granted, yet always needed. Driving into Memphis, we held our breath on the bridge spanning the river. A game we played in route to the Zoo or Goldsmith’s or the Mid-South Fair. It was a l-o-n-g way over. My lungs were never strong enough.
We weren’t allowed to swim in the river. But I waded in to my knees once. In high school. The only time in my life I was afraid of water, the undertow wicked.
He commands respect, capable of bestowing great wealth or catastrophic misfortune. Doing as he pleases, meandering where he will, like a stubborn cotton farmer. Misunderstood, quiet, strong. Sometimes appearing calm but always churning, roiling underneath the surface. Muddy and brown then golden and light, flowing. Seeking the ocean. Controlled by no one.
Providing for all of us.
Generations have witnessed his greatness, forever looking the same but never the same water. And the amazing things he has witnessed… abundant undisturbed wilderness, slavery and bloodshed, milk and honey, gambling and thieving, pirates and voodoo, jazz and blues, sacrifice and dreams.
He mus’ know sumpin’, but don’t say nuthin’, he jes’ keeps rollin’, he keeps on rollin’ along…
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| 2011 The River from Memphis Bridge |
Last year the river water levels were at an all time high, threatening crops and animals, people and history. Today a record low, tired from drought and dry with sediment.
Still mighty and majestic. Our soul.
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| Port of Osceola August 2012 |
talya
Musical Pairings:
River in the Rain – Roger Miller
“The poetry of the earth is never dead.”
― John Keats
So beautiful Talya. So very beautiful!
Interesting, informative, outstanding and beautiful!
Awesome description of Ol’ Man River, Talya! You’ve sure got me missing Mississippi County!=) But yeah, the Ol’ Man is a beautiful and majestic river with lots of history, and Mark Twain made his living writing stories about it. It is also a river to be respected, as you mentioned, with its powerful undertow. And I don’t blame you for being afraid that one time you swam in it. Though many people have swam in these dangerous and temperamental waters, there are some who didn’t make it out with their lives. I still remember when Dewey Brister drowned while swimming in it. I wasn’t there to witness this traumatic and highly emotional scene, but from the stories I’ve heard, it was truly heartbreaking, and no one could do anything to save him as the massive current swept him out to the middle of the river where he was eventually swallowed underneath the waves and drowned. I won’t go into the emotional details that were told to me and others, but it is truly heart-wrenching, and I still feel a tug at my heart when I picture the mental images I have stored in my mind from the first-hand accounts of the witnesses of this tragic moment in our lives. He was a great kid, and he is truly missed. I have to admit, I always wanted to go swimming in the Mississippi, at least one time, but after hearing about Dewey’s drowning, I lost all interest. I just like to sit on the shore or drive across a very long bridge (I couldn’t hold a bridge-length-breath, either=)) and observe its beauty and strength as a spectator, only; kind of like looking at a lion in a lion’s cage. Once again, your beautiful and eloquent style of writing has brought back many memories; such as life is, both good and bad. Please keep on keeping on! Your stories are Awesome!
Yes I remember when Dewey drowned. So terrible. That undertow is stronger than any I’ve seen in the ocean. Keep reading and I’ll keep writing…:))
Are you coming to the reunion this year? T.
Okay, it’s a deal!!! So, get ready to do a lot of writing because I’m definitely going to keep reading!=) As far as the reunion goes, I’m not sure. I’d really, really like to be there, but I’m not sure about the things I’ve got going around here, yet! I’m still in the adjustment phase!!! I’m looking at starting my classes at the ground campus in Nashville, and they will start at the first of October, so I’m still a little lost in translation, as they say!=) Anyhow, I’d love to see you and all of our old frie…(excuse me)…old young friends!=) I sure do miss everyone!
Elegiac, haunting, beautiful.