Marshall Ramsey

In a dark room filled with empty aluminum cans, a man sat staring at a glowing television.  A scruffy beard covered a face marred by doubt and hopelessness. Bloodshot eyes looked over at boxes of office contents and broken dreams.  It wasn’t fair. Anger boiled and overflowed inside of him. Life’s injustices held him prisoner in that room. The wrongs committed against him were the handcuffs that strapped him to his recliner.  But the key to his freedom lay in plain sight inside of him.

The key.

The epiphany.

The moment of clarity.

The second change took root.

The decision to make a better life.

The time when he decided to fight back.

The hour to make a difference in others’ lives.

The instant when he vowed to get out of his comfort zone.

Life had punched him in the stomach. But at that moment, he decided to start moving forward again, inch by inch. Foot by foot.  Once the spark of passion had been lit, a fire began to burn inside of him. A fire that consumed the fear that had held him back for so, so long.

Like a farmer burning a field in preparation for a new crop, his life was now ready for greatness.

It’s not what happened to him. It’s how he reacts to it.

Nothing or no one would ever hold him back again.

Once he started moving again.

Once he turned the key.

The Mississippi State Capitol is the third capitol building built in the city of Jackson (and was recently a made a cameo in the movie The Help). Built in 1903 with railroad back taxes (and remodeled from 1979-1983), this elegant building was designed in the Beaux-Arts architectural style and placed on the site of the former state penitentiary.  The irony has existed ever since.

Photo by Marshall Ramsey

All branches of Mississippi Government were once housed under the 8-foot-tall, gold-plated eagle on top of the building’s dome. Today, it’s the home of the State Legislature which meets every January and normally is in session for 90 days. This year, being the year after an election year, the session lasts around 120 days.  The extra month is needed to be able to establish committees, prepare legislation, locate the free coffee and find the restrooms.

The building is permeated with old tobacco smoke, history and more than its fair share of crazy legislation.  Smoking was banned a few years ago (after cigar-loving Rep. Charlie Capps’ retirement) but there is no ban on history or crazy legislation.  That takes place daily.

Outside on the grounds, there are trees, statues, guns and a replica of the Liberty Bell which watch over demonstrations, inaugurations and rallies. Inside, the sausage of Mississippi state government is made.

The new legislators walked through the halls of the glorious building, admiring the Italian, Belgian and New York marble, art and old wood. Each room reveals its own secrets. The main dome features 750 lights which illuminate “Blind Justice” and has four painted scenes: A Spanish explorer, two Indians and a Confederate general.  An image of Theresa Whitecloud, former Choctaw princess, looks down on the Senate Chamber from six wooden panels on the dome above. The former Supreme Court Chamber is now a committee room. One room on the first floor houses the Governor Theodore Bilbo statue — which is life-sized and short. The first floor hallway also is an art gallery of sorts.   There a lost freshman legislator looking for free coffee will find The Hall of Governors. Portraits of Mississippi’s governors since the formation of the Mississippi Territory in 1798 are on display.

But what the lost legislator doesn’t know was that when the sun goes down and the Capitol is empty, the building comes alive. The former governors and legislators speak, play cards, joke and talk about the very history they made here and in the Old Capitol building a few blocks away.  Slavery. The Civil War. Reconstruction. The 1890 Constitution. 1927 Flood, Segregation. The Civil Rights Era. Camille, Modern Mississippi. It’s a history buff’s dream.  Former Governor Fordice’s portrait cusses Former Governor Ray Mabus’.   Governor Waller’s portrait gives a stump speech fit for the Neshoba County Fair.  Governor Winter’s portrait talks about the incredible change he has seen in his state in his lifetime.  Governor Dennis Murphree tells the story of the Great Flood of 1927. Governor Adelbert Ames, appointed by Congress after the war, shrugs off taunts he’s a carpetbagger and reminds people he’s the last general of the Civil War to have died when he passed away in 1933. Governor Cliff Flinch and Governor Paul Johnson talk about the their terms in office.  And at 4 a.m., there is a winner-take-all card game for all former legislators (with plenty of free coffee.)  Senator Jack Gordon and Rep. Charlie Capps laugh and talk about budget challenges of years past.  House Speaker C.B. “Buddie” Newman holds court.  Several former legislators party just like during their time staying at the nearby former Sun N’ Sand Hotel. Speaker Tim Ford talks about his rise to power. Governor Musgrove wonders aloud where Governor Barbour’s portrait will be placed.

But when dawn rises, the halls of the Capital fall quiet once again, awaiting the legislators to pour in after a long night of events and lobbyist-fueled dinners. But even as the vapors burn off in the morning sun, the history permeates anyone who spends time in the magnificent building.

Like a dog chasing a car, the truck’s wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain on the windshield.  It was the hardest rainstorm Bobby Ray had ever seen in his 25 years — the sky was green and nickel-sized hail beat down on his already beat-down truck.  If his truck’s radio had worked, he would know exactly how serious this storm had become.  But he was clueless. He slowly eased his truck up to the traffic light at First and Main Street and stopped.

The pickup stalled, setting off a symphony of car horns behind it.

Bobby Ray looked at his dashboard light up like a Christmas display. He sighed — it had been one of those days.  He looked over at his cell phone — which was dead — and he just wanted to beat his head against the steering wheel until he was unconscious.  Like most things important to him, the phone wasn’t there when push came to shove. And he was about to have push and shove his truck.

“#$%#$% FATE! WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!?” he screamed in the cab. No one heard him.

Bobby Ray would be fired for being late to work at the Jiffy Pump & Save gas station. He just knew it.

He unclicked his seatbelt and checked his mirror. Three cars had already hurried passed him. There was no sense of him getting run over (although considering where the day was going, he wouldn’t be surprised.)  He unlocked the door and tugged the handle. It broke off in his hand.

“#$%#$!” he shouted in his truck.  Once again, no one heard him or cared.

“What a way to start off a New Year.” he grumbled. Late to work. His beater of a truck had died. His phone conked out and now he was stuck in this piece of #$%# truck. He crawled across the seat and tried to get the passenger side door open.  It was stuck, too.  Another car horn blared behind him. He motioned for the car to go around. The driver of the car shot him a bird.  “Lovely,” he thought as he wrestled with the door.

He sat there for fifteen minutes shaking his fist at the sky and cursing his dumb luck.  How fate had betrayed him. How it had slapped him in the face once again. And then, for no reason, he decided to try the engine again. The truck’s worn-out engine mysteriously cranked.  And then it purred like a milk-fed kitten.

The rain had let up and the windshield wipers finally began clearing the rain away. He pushed in the clutch and eased the truck forward when the light turned green.  The truck was running fine — why it had died was a complete mystery to him.  He rounded the curve and headed toward the gas station.

But the gas station wasn’t there.

Instead there were three firetrucks, five ambulances and a couple of police cars.  He looked over in the field and saw paramedics covering up a couple of bodies.  And then he looked to where the gas station used to be and saw nothing but a slab and twisted debris.  He grabbed the passenger-door handle and the door opened immediately.  Soaked and stunned, he ran over to his friend Stan who was a Sergeant for the local police.

“STAN! What happened?”

Stan looked at him like he was an idiot.  “Tornado, Bobby Ray. A big one. Roared out of the Southwest and completely erased your store from the face of the Earth.  Everyone was killed.  Looks like five fatalities in all.  You’re a lucky man you were late for work.”

Bobby Ray dropped to his knees. He then looked over at his beater truck and realized that it had saved his life.  As he sat there in the Jiffy Pump & Save Parking lot, the rain stopped and a rainbow appeared to the West.

And at that moment, Bobby Ray realized fate hadn’t cursed him after all. Fate’s kiss had saved his life.