We discussed several things we might do. One was to drive to Crenshaw, MS. That is the last town my great-grandfather lived in, and I have never been there. She also mention going to Louisville. My cousin's wife has a shop there she enjoys frequenting. Three guesses what we did.
I didn't mind because there are a number of reasons I like going to Louisville. I still have family in the area, and visiting aged kin is becoming more important to me the older I grow. It also gives me another reconnaissance trip to scout out things for the Great Noxapater Journey Run. On my first attempt, I was pretty much flying by the seat of my pants. Not this time. Another reason I like to make that trip is I recently found out where George Henry Quinton is buried in Louisville, and I have been wanting to visit his grave ever since. George, if you remember, is the great-grandfather who died in Crenshaw and whose tragic life inspires the long desired journey run I feel compelled to make.
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| Picnic at Choctaw Lake |
I slept until 9:00 am Friday morning, and I believe that is the latest I have lounged in bed for maybe twenty-five years or more. Wow. We finally dragged out of the house sometime around 10:00 and began our journey east. When we got to Carrollton, we exited Highway 82 and went through the old town and out Winona Road the scene of so much suffering in December of 2013 when I hobbled along with a stress fracture. On this drive, I measured the distance from Four K store, where I will sup on the first evening of the journey run, to Seldom Seen, where I will sleep on the first evening of that run. Only two miles. Nice. I can walk that on a full stomach provided my bones remain unbroken.
After we drove to McCarley, the scene of my surrender in 2013, we left the pavement and began to wind our way through a maze of gravel paths seeking a route to Winona that will give me the freedom to stay off Highway 82. We found one. Yee hah!
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| Choctaw Lake, the scene of my paternal grandfather's death |
We then made our way through Winona, on to and through French Camp, and then to Ackerman. Just outside Ackerman, we turned off Highway 15 and into the Choctaw Lake Recreation Area where we looked around and enjoyed our noon meal.
We stopped at a nondescript picnic table and dined on bologna sandwiches, bottle water, and Snickers bars. The weather was mild and just being there was relaxing as we gazed out over the graceful waters while sitting under a canopy of oaks and hickory trees that housed hungry squirrels. This lake was where my dad's dad died while in a boat trying to catch fish. A fitting finish for a Hodge: died trying to catch a fish. All Hodges are fishermen. I no longer catch fish myself, but I think about fishing often and I swim frequently with my aquatic cousins.
After our meal, we headed on to Louisville and there we found the cemetery by the library. That's how it was described to me: "the cemetery by the library." Since Louisville is not that large, we found it with relative ease, but once there finding the grave so not so easy. I was sure I had looked at every tombstone there. Some were buried in the mid-1800s. There were two rows of "Unknown Solder CSA."
After our failure to find, I walked over to a nearby funeral home to seek some intel. The elderly lady there told me to try city hall. I did. At city hall, they found George's grave on a plot map, and made me a copy of the map. Penny and I went back and found the tombstones marking George's and Lou Ella's (my Great-great grandmother) graves. It was a moving moment for me. On the journey run, I plan to return to that spot with more leisure and the freedom of solitude so my emotions can be unhindered.
We left the cemetery and drove to Noxapater where I dropped Penny at Lisa's shop, and I went to Mary Darby's and visited with my favorite aunt. I shared with her the plans for the next attempt. Then I went to Uncle Paul's place, a sort of a store where he sometimes sells stuff and often times works on broken down clothes dryers. He and his partner were working on one while I was there. We visited until Penny finished her business next door and joined us.
Before we left town, we went by the boys' (Paul and John) place of business and chatted a few minutes. Then we went back to Louisville and found a little place called Market Cafe where we stopped and had our date night meal. It was nice. I had blackened catfish over a pile of grits. Penny had some sort of chicken dish. While there, Forrest texted his mom that it was raining in Greenwood. I was incredulous. When we drove home, we found he had told the truth. Life is good.
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