To mark my 20th year of being a cartoonist in Mississippi, I thought I’d dig out 20 tales from the past two decades. Some are funny. Some are serious. All tell the story of how I came to fall in love with this sometimes frustrating but always fascinating state we live in.
When I lived in Conroe, Texas, my editor Dan Turner always used to go on about how he was going to be buried under the racetrack of this fair he always went to in the summer in Mississippi. I thought, “OK, Dan.” I never thought I’d ever go to Mississippi and I especially never thought I’d go to the Neshoba County Fair.
Three years later, I was standing on that very racetrack with a sketch pad in hand and a Pig Pen-worthy red dust cloud behind me.
I’ve covered the Neshoba County Fair every summer ever since. The politician speaking there is one of the last places in the country where candidates get up and actually give live speeches. There is no polish. No makeup. It’s lots of hot air (and not just from the weather.) It’s a healthy dose of sawdust, red dust and bullsh*t.
Over the years, I’ve developed friendships at the Fair (Billy and Martha at the Underwood cabin for example) and developed an addiction to Mrs. Denley’s banana pudding. While the speeches are OK (not as good as they used to be, to be honest), the gossip around the Pavilion is the equivalent to a Masters in Mississippi Political Science. For many years, you could talk to Gale Denley and learn a textbook. When he died in 2008, it was the equivalent of a library burning down. But you can still sit on Sid Salter’s front porch (the Salter/Denley cabin) and talk to all the politicians who come up to visit Sid.
In the 20 years I’ve been covering the speeches, I’ve watched children grow up into adults, adults act like children and seen Mississippi history take place. I’ve nearly caused Trent Lott to chop his hand off (covered in an earlier story), I’ve heard Kirk Fordice curse the world and the “liberal” Sid Salter. Speaking of Sid one of the great moments was when perineal candidate Shawn O’Hara said he was going to turn corn into gas. Sid and I, who had just eaten, looked at each other and said, “We’re doing that right now.”
The cabins are colorful and the campaign signs cover poles all around the Fairground. Horses race, bands play and red dust covers everything. It’s either hot and dusty or hot and muddy. Since I’ve been going, air conditioning, satellite dishes and cell phones have invaded the fairgrounds. But front porch visiting is still the rule of the land. If you don’t eat at least six lunches, you’re doing something wrong.
I’ve drawn hundreds of Fair cartoons in the past two decades. Most are quick sketches that I draw at night sitting on a front porch while the kids party. I’ll hear the late night sing and then finish up while the last stragglers head back to their cabins. Then I get ready for the next day’s speeches and do it all over again.
I look forward to next year’s Fair and seeing what I can find new to draw about. And Mrs. Denley’s banana pudding. A man has to have his fix.
I would very much like to see that collection of NCF cartoons.