Mississippi madness

I have driven on I20 through Louisianna into Mississippi. The air stinks & I wonder if it's left over from the hurricane or if it's normal. It especially smells by the rivers - I don't know what river I am crossing but my eyes are smarting it stinks so much.

I stop in Jackson Mississippi, pull into the parking lot & park my truck so my "imprison bush" side is most visible. Driving through Louisianna and Mississippi, I'm getting lots of yeahs! Half the folks on the road are African American, the other half appear to be white.

I don't see many obvious signs of the hurricane but I the land seems dull and there's a air of general bewilderment. Inside the coffee shop, I'm enthusiastically greeted by two young women & a gay white man - he has seen me drive in & is standing with a huge welcoming grin on his face. The young woman, Elisha, whose face the sunrise shown, asks me how I'm feeling this morning - my in for saying "as well as can be expected given who's in the white house". That got me lots of honeys & you know that's right from the women as well as the white guy.

One of the women behind the counter, Elisha, told me she was working at a ritzy hotel when the hurricane struck. She said FEMA had called & reserved ALL their rooms for a year. I'm nodding, impressed, thinking FEMA was providing emergency housing for folks. No, she tells me, they were holding rooms for FEMA - so they had to turn folks who were homeless away - at least the first day or so. FEMA didn't show up - Elisah leans toward me and confesses she let folks stay in their rooms. Hell, she says, we let 'em sleep in the halls, on the sofas in the reception room, wherever they could.

She went on to tell me how the hotel staff served breakfast every morning - even tho FEMA wasn't there yet, breakfast was part of the package! She thought they fed about 150 people every morning. When FEMA did arrive - all three of the workers chimed in then with disgust - they came in spanking new vehicles with top of the line individual lap tops & phones and all this hi-tech stuff - not to mention their clothes. The contrast between FEMA honchos and the folks was pathetic.

The other woman, who hadn't seen my truck pull in, has gone out to view it. She comes back, leans across the counter, grabs my hands & pulls me into her. "Those are the words are from my heart" she says firmly as she hugs me & our tears flow, "I love you because you have written what I believe, what is in my heart! Thank you so much."

I give the women flyers & urge them to start CodePINK in Jackson Mississippi - I hope I can come back to visit when I return, altho I do not like this southern route so much.