Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday Mississippi. Happy birthday to you.
Two-hundred years old? You don’t look a day over 100. But wow, two centuries is a long time. And you definitely haven’t had a dull life.
I’ve only been here for a little over a tenth of it. So yes, I am a newcomer. Some even say a Yankee, although I grew up in the Atlanta area. I’m a Mississippian by choice. My kids, however, are Mississippians by birth. They’re why I always want the best for you. I want them to see opportunity within your borders. It would break their mama’s heart if she had grandkids who lived far, far way.
You’ve seen moments of great pain and moments of incredible triumph. Humans being held as slaves is about as painful as it gets. A great civil war burned across you, leaving scars we still feel today. Poverty has gripped you, too. It took the Civil Rights movement to get us to live up to the promise of Thomas Jefferson’s words — all men are created equal. And natural disasters? Among the worst that have ever hit this land. Floods, tornadoes and hurricanes have not only shaped your landscape, but your culture. The river that gives us your name rose in 1927. The level broke and brought pain — and an exodus. When the Devil met Robert Johnson at the Crossroads, it wasn’t his first trip to your land.
But the grit of sand in your oyster created amazing pearls. The incredible pain of slavery and the Jim Crow era gave us the beauty of the Blues. Your natural disasters shook us into doing the right thing at the right moment. As I have said before, when things get bad, we get good. We saw it after Katrina along the Mississippi Gulf Coast and inland. We see it every time there is a tornado. Before you can crawl out the wreckage and say “chainsaws and casseroles,” there will be a church van in your front yard full of people who will feed you and cut the trees off your house.
That’s who your people are.
From the hills of Northeast Mississippi, to the flatness of the Delta, to the Pinebelt on to the sea, you are a complex state full of complex people. There is no true black or white in Mississippi — and I don’t mean race. I mean good and evil. There are many shades of gray. You are a land that tests every fiber of our being. Like a forge, you make us stronger. And you challenge everything we stand for. Well, some of us.
My great great grandfather spent a little time here during the Civil War. I have his memoirs and have read what he had to say about you. He liked you so well that he stuck around and became a Methodist Circuit rider in Northeast Mississippi. A teacher by trade, he founded the late Wood Junior college in Mathiston, Mississippi. I think he was run out of the state eventually — a fate that I’m sure will happen to me, too. But he loved it here. I think it appropriate his great great grandson ended up here, too. I, too, love it here.
Your history is rich, textured and runs as deep as the great river on your western border. From cannonballs to cotton balls, you have a heck of a story to tell. For many years, others told your story. It wasn’t always flattering. Sometimes it was harsh and undeserving. Sometimes it WAS deserving. I applaud that you now have two grand museums to tell your story to generations to come. As our musicians and authors prove, this is a land of great storytellers and stories. I’m glad you have the courage to tell them.
Congratulations on the museums and 200 years. We have overcome so much. And we have a way to go. It’s a not always an easy journey. But it’s one worth taking.
Thanks for allowing me to come along for the ride. Your birthday card is in the mail.