After checking into our hotel, Tauni and I walked the few blocks to Beale Street, which, famous as it still is, seems as though it must have had better days. Live music poured out of a number of clubs along the street, and there were even a couple of bands playing on the sidewalk. I checked out the members of one of the sidewalk bands, most looking as though, whatever their ages, they had accumulated a lot of miles. To appreciate Beale Street I would have to visit with my friend Art Richards, who has spent his adult life studying the history of the blues and rock and roll. Without Art's guidance, we made short work of it.
We met Wil promptly at 8pm at a restaurant called McEwen's. We were joined by a two women from New York - one, Charlotte Seeley (I think), was described as the foremost feminist literary agent in the country. The other, whose name I never caught, is a producer for Sesame Street. We also were joined by publisher from Memphis, whose current project is a book about Chattanooga, Tennessee, describing its environmental revival, and Mark Hurley, currently of Chicago, who explained that he was nine months into a two year sabbatical from JP Morgan.
Charlotte turned out to be the connection between all these people. She and Wil met when Wil was 17 and living alone in New York while attending Brandeis High School, whose students were virtually all black and Hispanic. By this time Wil had already been arrested 3 times for his participation in civil rights marches. Charlotte and two other white women were running a draft counseling center. Wil walked in and explained to Charlotte that there was no way she and her two colleagues could connect with the young blacks and Hispanics in the neighborhood. So Wil took over the counseling center. That lead to a lifelong friendship. Mark met Wil through Charlotte, who introduced Wil to him as someone with a remarkable life story. The publisher was Mark's first employer, and the producer a good friend of Charlotte's.
Wil told us that, back then, he hated white people and either sympathized with or was a member of the Black Panthers. Things have changed, as evidenced by the fact that Wil sponsored my friend Jim Parkinson as the first white member of the 100 Black Men of Columbus, Mississippi.
Toward the end of the evening Wil made some comment about Tauni and I being Mormons. He allowed as how he didn't believe in the religion but she he was a cultural Mormon in that he fully embraced the moral teachings of the church. Charlotte then announced that she is an atheist, looking at me in a way that seemed to require some response. I told her I had no problem with that, to which she said that I must be very tolerant. I said that if she could put up with me I certainly could put up with her. I am not sure that she smiled, thought she seemed to accept our differences.
That dinner, in a microcosm, exemplified what I would observe over and over throughout the weekend -- that Wil has been passionately and effectively involved in a variety of causes throughout his life and had accumulated a wide variety of accomplished friends. He announced at dinner that he is a social liberal and an economic libertarian, which he said means he has no political home (with which Mark agreed). That probably explains why Wil has close friends at both ends of the political spectrum, though he still claims to be a Republican. He also seems to have a number of people who consider him their best friend, and whose children he describes as members of his own family.
The next morning we got up early and took a cab to the train station where we were to board the City of New Orleans for a trip to New Orleans. The train was over an hour late in arriving, so we had breakfast at a diner across the street from the station. We shared an order of sweet potato pancakes, which were amazing. There was a lot of memorabilia in the diner, indicating it has long been a popular spot in Memphis and a frequent movie location.
I thought the trip to New Orleans might take five hours; it took over nine. The sights included a number of run down towns, lots of flat grassy fields, and a few cotton fields. Jackson was an exception to the third world appearance of the countryside.
There was a wide variety of Wil's friends and family on the train. Most slept till be reached Jackson. After that the excitement built and things got livelier the closer we came to New Orleans. In Jackson a group of girls from Tupalo boarded and went straight to the dining car, where Tauni and I happened to be. They all had long, straight bleached hair and wore sleeveless dresses. They were whooping, dancing and drinking to the point that we thought they might pass out before they made it to New Orleans. I returned to our car and told Wil about them, whereupon he took off for the dining car.
As we drew near Wil's young friend Simeon started playing "When the Saints Go Marching In" on the sax and we all sang along. The Gulf of Mexico came into view and I was relieved to see no sign of oil, nor any sign of oil in the bayous, the first I had ever seen. We arrived two hours late in New Orleans and went straight to our hotel. Tauni and I walked several blocks from the hotel, which was in the Warehouse District, to the French Quarter and Bourbon Street. After three blocks she had seen enough. She saw a line of people wating at the Acme Oyster House, which she took as a good sign, so we decided to have dinner there. After a wait of about a half hour we were seated at the bar, where we were treated to tradition New Orleans food - gumbo, jambalaya, red beans, sausage, crawfish tails. We returned to the hotel after dinner, where we noticed an Italian clothing store still open. I tried on a few suits, which I thought were beautiful and inexpensive. I had been planning to wait until I finished the program to buy a new suit, but these were so nice that I thought I would make an exception. Too tired to make a decision, we went to bed. But I came back the next day and bought three. A bit excessive, but the price was less than I had planned to pay for one suit.
Saturday morning we got up early and walked to Jackson Square, where after making a couple laps around the French Quarter we eventually returned for breakfast. I had Creole eggs, which consisted of poached eggs in Creole sauce, and they were marvelous. We spent much of the remainder of the day walking. Tauni commented more than once that she would never want to live in New Orleans or raise a family there. It is rather a moot point, since we never will, but I cannot but appreciate how much the city has revived from the Katrina disaster. New Orleans is a blend of cultures - particularly African American, Cajun/French and Spanish, the likes of which is found nowhere else in the world. The city offers sex, alcohol, food and music in abundance. It seems a monument to the pleasures of the moment.
Saturday evening we finally celebrated Wil's January birthday first with dinner and then at a roast, where his twin sons and daughter took the lead. His beautiful and lively daughter Niani (who reminded me of Nina with her every ready smile and vigilant attention to her two children) began by placing a crown on Wil's head. His son Scott then lead the roast talking about how they always knew Wil grew up poor but that as time went on his childhood became more and more impoverished. Sadly, I can't recall all the examples of Wil's poverty (e.g., his dad rented him out to a sharecropper, he walked 3 miles every day to and from school ... in the snow ... in Mississippi) but Scott had the audience, including Wil and Tauni, nearly doubled over with laughter. He then talked about Wil's political beliefs ("lower taxes"), and his thriftiness, particularly in buying clothes. Andrew continued, followed by Wil's brother Roland, who made a show of weeping over their childhood poverty. Other friends joined in until a couple friends spoke of Wil more seriously. One, a young black lawyer from Atlanta, talked of Wil's integrity. Finally Charlotte, who Wil has known longer than anyone else there present, told the story of the young man alone in New York who took over the draft counseling center. There was also mention of George, an old law professor at Ole Miss, whose daughter Wil treated as his own.
Wil was warm and high-spirited throughout the weekend. The love of his family and friends was obvious. I am not sure how exactly to process it all. Except to say it is obvious Wil has lived with passion and integrity, and made a difference in the lives of many people.
As for Tauni and me, it was good to be together. We spent a lot of time walking, and I think she enjoyed the sights and the company. Unfortunately, I came down with a severe cold that got worse as the weekend wore on. By the time we got home I sick enough that Tauni suggested I stay home rather than join Nina and Kyle and the boys at the cabin. That was undoubtedly a good decision for Nina's family and good for me, as I managed to sleep nearly ten hours and feel much better this morning. I even managed a workout on an exercise bike and elliptical. My back was very sore this morning but felt a lot better after working out. Odd that through this process my knee feels better and better but my back has been the limiting factor. I don't know what that tells me but it does cause me to regulate what I do.
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