The Tennessee Delta V: Fayette County

On a Friday evening, after meeting a friend for dinner in Memphis, with nothing in particular to do, I headed out Poplar Avenue through Collierville and into Fayette County, which is the Tennessee county that most resembles the Mississippi Hill Country. Mississippi Fred McDowell was from Fayette County (Rossville to be exact), and if there is any fife and drum activity left in Tennessee (and there does not seem to be), it would likely be in that county. So I often venture out there to ride the backroads, take photographs, and see if I come upon any events, or flyers announcing events on the various stores along the roads. People in Fayette tend to be old-school and don’t use social media much to promote blues or gospel events. 

One of the reasons that this has taken on such urgency with me is that the western portion of Fayette County is undergoing a process of suburbanization, as people move away from Memphis into the country. The resulting growth and subdividing has the net effect of destroying historic locations and buildings, so I want to photograph what is still around while I can. 

Posters on the outside of stores in Rossville and Moscow announced a barbecue festival in Rossville and a car show in Somerville, as well as a Jubilee Hummingbirds concert at a church south of Moscow in Slayden, Mississippi. There was a also a poster announcing some kind of rap show at Saine’s, which is ordinarily a blues club. Signs along Highway 57 also announced that Terry Saine, the club’s owner, was running for the state legislature. 

Out on the Cowan Loop between Moscow and LaGrange, I came to an old and somewhat historic-looking church called Anderson Grove. The place, set far back off the road in a grove, looked almost abandoned, but the area was fairly peaceful. Further west along the same road was another church, obviously abandoned, with no sign to indicate what its name might have been. Not far away, back on Highway 57 was an abandoned grocery store that must have at one time been a bustling place indeed. But I found no evidence of juke joints, ball fields or picnic spots.

North of Moscow, along Highway 76, I came to Saine’s Blues Club, and stopped there, in the hopes of perhaps catching up with Terry Saine. Saine was a civil rights activist in the 1960’s, and in my belief likely old enough to have been aware of Black fife and drum bands in Fayette County during his youth, and perhaps also able to fill in some gaps about the Fayette County blues musician Lattie Murrell. But Saine was not there, perhaps out campaigning for office, so I headed on into Somerville. 

There, around the square, young people were setting up stages, booths and barricades, getting ready for the Cotton Festival, which was to be held the next day. Nothing was going on at the moment however, so I headed over to Betty’s After Dark blues club, but found it fairly quiet, although open. They were having a large T. K. Soul show the next night, after the Southern Heritage Classic game in Memphis. Nearby, however, was a restaurant with outdoor tables and colorful lights, that seemed to be packed with people. It  looked like something transported from Destin or Orange Beach to Somerville, and proved to be a new seafood restaurant called Big Fish that I realized will deserve a future visit. 

On out Highway 59, Fayette-Ware High School was clearly playing a football game at their stadium, but I wasn’t particularly interested in that, and I headed on to Brewer Road where I knew there was a club. But all I found was a group of young people at the end of the road on four-wheelers just hanging out, and if there was anything going on at the club, it was obviously a hip-hop event geared to youth.

Likewise at Mason, the Log Cabin and Blue Room had large crowds, but just DJ’s as best I could tell, and by now I was thoroughly tired. So I gave up looking for anything to get into and began driving back toward Bartlett on Highway 70, as lightning and rain began to develop. 

Friday Night in Tipton County: Erwin’s Great Steaks and Grand Opening of The Blue Room in Mason


It was a wonderfully-sunny afternoon, and I knew that a new juke joint called The Blue Room was having their grand opening in Mason, so I decided to roll up into Tipton County. After debating the different dinner possibilities in the area, I decided to head to Erwin’s Great Steaks, a restaurant I had not been to in many years. Located in an old general store in the Bride community, Erwin’s sits about seven miles west of Covington on a backroad, but it is definitely worth the journey. The smell of the wood-burning pit pervades the area, shrouding the historic building in a smokey haze, as people wait inside and out for tables. My ribeye steak was excellent, as were the sides, and the meal was also a great value.

Erwin’s Great Steaks
4464 Bride Rd
Covington, TN 38019
(901) 476-7888

After dinner, I headed through Covington and down Highway 59 to Mason, where Saul Whitley was celebrating the opening of his new juke joint called The Blue Room, in the former Rejuvenated Bar and Grill building on Front Street. Although there was not a live band, the small room was filled to the brim with partiers enjoying pool, free food and drink, and good southern soul music played by a DJ. I had an opportunity to meet Mr. Whitley, the owner, and he indicated that the Blue Room will be offering live music in the future.

The Blue Room
42 Front St
Mason, TN 38049

Great Catfish and Seafood at Braden Station


Braden, Tennessee is a small village in northwestern Fayette County, roughly halfway between Gallaway and Mason. Unlike those towns, Braden never really developed, basically consisting of some houses, a church, a cemetery an elementary school and the C. T. McGraw General Store. When that store closed in the early 2000’s, it soon became home to a catfish and seafood buffet restaurant called Braden Station, yet in all the years it had been open, I had never taken the opportunity to try it. So on a beautiful September evening, a Thursday, I decided to check it out before heading to Somerville for another installment of Music on the Square. Braden Station is a bright and cheerful space on the ground floor of the historic general store building, whose walls are covered with historic signs and photos, many of them related to the area. The old, wooden shelves on the northern wall that once held all kinds of general merchandise now hold old board games, toys, books, photos and other knickknacks. On a Thursday night, the restaurant was fairly busy, with most of the patrons enjoying the large all-you-can-eat seafood buffet, which costs $18.99. Not believing that I could eat enough to justify the price, I chose instead to order a catfish dinner with french fries and hushpuppies. This is a meal that I have ordered frequently from a number of restaurants over the last year, and Braden Station’s stacks up fairly well. With lots of catfish choices in the Mid-South, the field is fairly competitive, so restaurants that offer catfish have to put their best foot forward. Unfortunately, where Braden Station fails is in affordability. They are just very expensive. A three-piece catfish dinner is $14.99. The full buffet, as mentioned above, is four dollars more. Of course, seafood costs a little more, but the prices sadly make Braden Station more of a special occasion restaurant than a regular go-to. That being said, it is certainly a place that everyone should take the time to experience at least once. The friendly service, great food, and cheerful atmosphere are worth the splurge, at least every now and then.

Braden Station
189 Highway 59
Braden, TN 38049
(901) 594-5959

From Benton County to Fayette County on Labor Day


On Labor Day, after breakfast at Huddle House in Senatobia, I decided to head out into Benton County on a search for the possibility of more blues or fife-and-drum picnics. After driving to Holly Springs, I headed out Highway 7 until I came to the town of Lamar, Mississippi in Benton County. There wasn’t much at Lamar other than an abandoned store and a post office, but the next town up the road, Michigan City, was more interesting, to say the least.
I have never determined why a town in Mississippi was named Michigan City, but the years have not been kind to the place. The few business buildings on Main Street have been abandoned, as have the railroad tracks that once ran through the center of town. However, on the opposite side of the tracks are some historic homes and church buildings, most in good shape, but a few abandoned. The streets are narrow, and local residents traverse them with golf carts, as the whole community is fairly compact and easy to get around in. Unfortunately, like all of Benton County, Michigan City seems like a community that has been largely abandoned. Yet, with available historic homes and buildings, it seems as if it could be redeveloped by people committed to a vision for the community.
I soon crossed into the town of Grand Junction, Tennessee, in Hardeman County, a place where the blues musician Little Joe Ayers recalled fife-and-drum picnics in 1969 or 1970. But there was no sign of any festive activities in the small town, and the downtown area had lost some buildings just in the year or so since I had been there last.
I had driven extensively in parts of Fayette County in the fall of 2015, so I decided to focus on the southwestern quadrant of the county, an area I had not spent much time in back then. Starting at LaGrange, I drove the LaGrange Road into Somerville, and then Jernigan Drive back out to the southwest and ultimately into Hardeman County. Although I didn’t find any picnics or fife-and-drum bands, I did find some old abandoned stores, juke joints and schools along the route, and I stopped to photograph them all before ultimately ending up in Whiteville.
I recalled that Whiteville had been the site of a very important and early high school for African-Americans in West Tennessee, the Hardeman County Training School, which had eventually become Allen-White High School. In the earliest years, the high school had been something like a college, with dormitories, because Bolivar, the county seat, had no schools for Black children, and high school education for Blacks in West Tennessee was severely limited. Some children traveled far from their homes and stayed in dormitories on campuses like Allen-White in Bolivar, Gailor in Mason, or Shelby County Training School at Woodstock, and others arranged to stay with families who resided near the schools. So Allen-White, which had been built with funds donated by Julius Rosenwald, the CEO of Sears & Roebuck, was extremely important as an opportunity for secondary education for Black students. Indeed, its long-time principal, J. H. White, went on to be the first president of Mississippi Vocational College at Itta Bena, now Mississippi Valley State University.
Given the school’s historical importance, I was curious what I would find when I arrived at the location of the old campus, but nothing prepared me for what I found. Although an old “Allen-White High School, Class of 1951” sign remained at the front of the campus, the buildings were largely ruins, having been burnt in an arson fire in 2012. The portions of the campus that were not burnt in the fire were abandoned and overgrown with high grass, weeds and bushes. I was thoroughly depressed with what I found, and all the more so when I read online that the community had been hoping to use the building for community purposes prior to the arson. The extent to which Black school campuses are abandoned in Southern towns is an annoyance to me, perhaps an unintended consequence of school integration. Given the thousands of dollars invested in these campuses by the taxpayers, it’s hard for me to understand why the local governments could not find a suitable public use for these campuses before simply abandoning them to ruin. Arguably, had the Allen-White campus not been vacant and abandoned, there might have been no arson.
From Whiteville, I ended up riding across the northwest corner of Fayette County, then through Dancyville and across to Stanton and Mason before I decided to head back to the house. While I had documented a lot of historic sites in the area, I found no trace of the fife-and-drum music culture I had hoped to find in or around Fayette County. I have come to the sad conclusion that it probably no longer exists.

Around the Tennessee Delta on Labor Day Weekend


After Bradley Hanson of the Tennessee State Archives sent me a link to recordings made of a fife and drum band in rural Fayette County in 1980, I spent several weeks trying to determine if any fife and drum activity remains in West Tennessee today. Ultimately, I was disappointed, in that I found no evidence of any, but there is still something of a live blues culture in the area around Mason and Stanton, Tennessee. Stores in Mason and Stanton often display flyers for the latest blues or rap events at area clubs or parks. Since Labor Day is arguably the biggest weekend for fife-and-drum picnics, I decided to roll the backroads around the area on Sunday, September 4, in the hopes that I might stumble onto something. Near Stanton, Tennessee, in Haywood County, is a small community across the line in Fayette called Fredonia, that was once a site of much fife- and-drum activity. That doesn’t seem to go on there anymore, but the Gilliam family still holds a large picnic there on Labor Day weekend each year featuring a live blues band, usually Big Don Valentine and Booker Brown. This year there were already a lot of cars around the spot and a large crowd was gathered, but because R. L. Boyce was playing in Clarksdale, Mississippi later, I decided not to stop at the Gilliam picnic. Not far away, on Wagon Wheel Drive, I came to what had once been the Bonner Grocery. Now called Mike’s Grocery, it was otherwise largely unchanged from its historic past, even featuring a wood-burning stove in the center of the building. Such stores are common on Fayette County backroads, but while I found the place interesting, it didn’t get me any closer to any fife and drum activity. Ultimately, I headed out to Mississippi for the show in Clarksdale.

The Tennessee Delta III

001 Gainsville002 Gainsville003 Gainsville004 Gainsville005 Gainsville006 Gainsville007 Gus's Fried Chicken008 Gus's Fried Chicken009 Gus's Fried Chicken010 Gus's Fried Chicken011 Beech Chapel CME012 Beech Chapel CME013 Beech Chapel CME014 Trinity In The Fields015 Trinity In The Fields016 Trinity In The Fields017 Trinity In The Fields018 Trinity In The Fields019 Cotton Fields020 Stanton Masonic Lodge021 Stanton Baptist Church022 Stanton Masonic Lodge & School023 Stanton024 Stanton025 Suga's Diner026 Suga's Diner027 Suga's Diner028 Stanton029 Stanton030 Stanton031 Stanton032 Stanton033 Stanton034 Stanton035 Stanton036 Stanton037 Stanton038 Stanton039 Zodiac Park040 Zodiac Park041 Zodiac Park042 Zodiac Park043 Zodiac Park044 Zodiac Park045 Zodiac Park046 Zodiac Park047 Zodiac Park048 Zodiac Park049 Zodiac Park050 Zodiac Park051 Zodiac Park052 Zodiac Park053 Zodiac Park054 Zodiac Park055 Zodiac Park056 Zodiac Park057 Zodiac Park058 Zodiac Park
For my third photographic journey documenting the blues country of West Tennessee, I stayed mostly in Tipton and Haywood Counties, photographing the historic store in Gainsville, old churches out on the Mason-Charleston Road, and historic buildings in the Haywood County community of Stanton. Perhaps my best find though was a large private ball field out north of Mason, where a Black community baseball team called the Zodiacs once played. Such community ball parks used to be common in Black communities across the South, and were occasionally the sites of Fourth-of-July picnics where fife-and-drum bands or blues musicians played. One such ballfield used to be on Germantown Road near Ellis Road in the Oak Grove community outside of Bartlett when I was a teenager. It has now sadly been torn down.
The Zodiacs Park is in poor condition, and almost looks abandoned, but teenagers from Mason use its basketball courts on warm afternoons, and the fact that some new equipment can be seen on the premises, such as a gas barbecue grill, suggests that the complex is at least still occasionally used. Still, with the park completely empty on a late fall afternoon, it seemed a sad and lonely place indeed.

The Tennessee Delta I

001 Gallaway002 Gallaway003 Gallaway004 Gallaway005 Gallaway006 Gallaway007 Gallaway008 Gallaway009 Gallaway010 Gallaway011 Gallaway012 Gallaway013 Gallaway014 Gallaway015 Gallaway016 Gallaway017 Gallaway018 Gallaway019 Gallaway020 Gallaway021 Murrell's Cafe022 Anderson General Merchandise023 Abandoned Store024 Braden Station025 Braden Station026 Braden Station027 Braden Station028 Abandoned School029 Abandoned School030 Abandoned School031 Abandoned School032 Abandoned School033 Abandoned School034 Douglas Community035 Dancyville036 Dancyville037 Dancyville038 Dancyville039 Dancyville040 Dancyville041 Dancyville042 Dancyville043 Dancyville044 Dancyville045 Dancyville046 Abandoned Store, Fayette Corners047 Abandoned Store, Fayette Corners048 Laconia049 Laconia050 Laconia051 Laconia052 Laconia053 Laconia054 Laconia055 Laconia
We speak often of the Mississippi Delta, and to some extent of the Arkansas Delta and the Louisiana Delta. But we don’t usually speak of a Tennessee delta. Yet if we were to use the term, it would largely be the counties of Fayette, Haywood and Tipton, with perhaps some portions of Lauderdale, Shelby and Hardeman Counties as well. The towns of Gallaway, Braden, Mason and Stanton lie right in the center of this region, and given the importance of juke-joint-like cafes in Mason, and the proximity of Fayette County to Marshall County, Mississippi, which produced a lot of famous blues musicians, I set about to see if there was any sort of blues culture in the region, and to document what remains before creeping progress destroys it.
I started in the Fayette County town of Gallaway, a railroad town that incorporated and industrialized during the 1960’s. Time has not been kind to Gallaway, but some historic buildings still remain along Main Street and the railroad tracks. From Gallaway, Feathers Chapel Road runs toward Somerville, but in the rural outside Oakland, I came upon the ruins of a cafe called Murrell’s Cafe, although I was unable to determine whether it had been a restaurant, or, like the cafes in Mason, was a juke joint. At a nearby crossroads was a general merchandise store, still open and operating. Nearby Braden is also an incorporated town, but it never developed as much as Gallaway. Its one two-story building was always the C. T. McGraw General Store, which has in recent years become a seafood restaurant that I have been meaning to try called Braden Station. Passing through Mason, which I had photographed extensively in the past, I headed on to Stanton, which in my youth had had a historic downtown that resembled Mason’s. Unfortunately, fires have devastated most of downtown Stanton, and not much remains. So I headed further out into the rural Douglass Community to the northeast, and took some pictures there, then headed on to Dancyville.
Dancyville is in Haywood County, and has a handful of historic houses and churches, as well as a few small businesses. From there, I headed southeast along the Fayette Corners Road, stopping to photograph some abandoned rural stores, and ending up at another former railroad town called Laconia, where a single light burned on the porch of the local general store and post office. The railroad that ran through Laconia toward Jackson, Tennessee is long abandoned, but there is a small pavilion or bandbox, an antique store, a former gas station in the back of the post office building, and a large colony of cats that walk to and fro around the village. While I didn’t discover any unexpected blues venues or learn of any special events, it was a good first day of photography on the backroads of the Tennessee Delta.

Booker Brown and Big Don Valentine Deliver The Blues at September In Fredonia

092 Big Don Valentine093 Big Don Valentine094 Big Don Valentine095 Big Don Valentine096 Big Don Valentine097 Big Don Valentine098 September in Fredonia099 Big Don Valentine100 Big Don Valentine101 Big Don Valentine102 Big Don Valentine103 Big Don Valentine104 September in Fredonia105 September in Fredonia107 Big Don Valentine109 Big Don Valentine112 Booker Brown113 Booker Brown114 Booker Brown115 Booker Brown116 Booker Brown117 Booker Brown118 Booker Brown119 September in Fredonia120 September In Fredonia121 September In Fredonia122 Booker Brown124 Booker Brown125 September In Fredonia126 Booker Brown127 Booker Brown128 Jookin129 Booker Brown130 Big Don ValentineJPG131 A Singer From The Crowd132 Big Don Valentine Band133 Guest Singer135 Big Don Valentine Band136 Big Don Valentine137 Big Don Valentine Band138 Festivalgoers139 September In Fredonia140 September In Fredonia141 September In Fredonia142 September In Fredonia143 September In Fredonia144 Big Don Valentine145 Big Don Valentine147 September In Fredonia Sponsors.149 Big Don Valentine150 Big Don Aleio151 Booker Brown1862 Big Don Valentine
Since nobody seemed to know where in Mason Big Don Valentine would be performing, I sent him a text on Facebook to ask about the location. and he responded back with an address. I had assumed that the show was a public event since he had sent me the information, but when I arrived at the location, it was actually the backyard of a private house in a Fayette County community known as Fredonia. My coming to the event, called “September in Fredonia”, was rather awkward, to say the least, but I was taken to meet the woman who was putting on the event and she graciously allowed me to come and enjoy the performance. I sat at the table with Big Don Valentine and his band members, and he told me that the woman had been sponsoring these events for many years, and that she usually hired him and his band to perform. I looked around and saw that probably a couple of hundred people were present, seated at any number of tables. There was a gigantic spread of food as well, but of course I had eaten at Bozo’s only a short time before. The weather was cool, but not chilly, and when Big Don got on stage with his band to perform, the crowd got into it immediately. After a few songs, blues singer Booker Brown also came on stage, and it didn’t take long for a small crowd of dancers to appear. The party-goers were even more exuberant during the band’s second set, and a few people from the crowd, relatives of the woman who gave the party, came on stage to perform with the band. Several of them were actually decent singers, and of course were greatly encouraged by people in the audience. The group of people dancing in the grass near the field grew, and the general atmosphere was like a Tennessee version of the Mississippi Hill Country Picnic. Despite my initial embarrassment and discomfort at crashing someone’s private party, I ended up having a great time.

Keep up with Big Don Valentine and the All-Stars:
https://www.facebook.com/Big-Don-Valentine-the-All-Stars-332436523604892/





Celebrating Unity And An Effort To Save A Dying Town

002 Gus's Fried Chicken003 Gus's Fried Chicken004 Unity Festival005 The Lo End006 Family Ties Arcade007 Unity Festival008 Unity Festival009 The Lower End010 Unity Festival011 Unity Festival012 Unity Festival013 Unity Festival014 Hittin The Quan015 Unity Festival016 Unity Festival017 Unity Festival018 Unity Festival019 Unity Festival020 Unity Festival021 Unity Festival022 No Dope Smoking023 Unity Festival024 The Log Cabin025 Unity Festival026 The Old Black Hut027 Unity Festival028 Unity Festival029 Unity Festival030 Unity Festival031 Unity Festival032 Unity Festival033 Unity Festival034 Unity Festival035 The Log Cabin036 Unity Festival037 The Green Apple038 Unity Festival039 Unity Festival040 Unity Festival042 Unity Festival043 Unity Festival044 Unity Festival045 Unity Festival046 Unity Festival047 Unity Festival048 The Mayor of Mason049 The Mayor's Speech050 Unity Festival051 Unity Festival052 Unity Festival053 The Lower End054 A Gospel Group055 Unity Festival056 Hoopin'057 Festivalgoers058 The Lower End059 Hoopin'060 The Lower End061 The Lower End062 The Lower End063 Unity Festival064 The Log Cabin065 Hoopin'066 Unity Festival067 The Green Apple068 The Log Cabin069 Unity Festival070 Unity Festival071 Unity Festival072 Unity Festival073 Unity Festival074 A Church Choir075 Another Church Choir076 Unity Festival077 Where Sportsman's Lounge Was078 The Lower End079 The Lower End080 Unity Festival081 The Lo End082 The Lower End083 The Green Apple084 The Log Cabin085 The Lower End086 Unity Festival087 Unity Festival088 Unity Festival089 Festivalgoers090 Unity Festival091 Bozo's Hot Pit Bar-B-Q1852 Unity Festival1854 Unity Festival1856 The Lower End1859 The Wobble1861 The Lower End
On a weekday afternoon, I had driven up to Mason, Tennessee after work to eat at Bozo’s Bar-B-Que, and had noticed signs around the little town announcing a “Unity Fall Fest” on September 19.
I remembered years ago in the early 1990’s driving out to Mason with a couple of friends and having a lot of fun at a large festival in the town’s square along the railroad tracks and Front Street, a neighborhood of cafes traditionally called “The Lower End.” That day, there were several hundred people out, live bands, singers and rap artists, and we had had a ball. But the times had not been kind to Mason. Although Mason was somewhat famous for Bozo’s Bar-B-Que and Gus’s World-Famous Fried Chicken, it was more famous for its rural version of Beale Street along Front Street. Tipton County was technically a dry county, so the clubs along the street were euphemistically called “cafes”, but they ran wide open day and night. Although the town was still in those days controlled by whites, they allowed the Black night life to operate without limits. Prior to the 1970’s, it was probably seen as a social safety valve, preventing the kind of racial schism that had wracked Fayette County, only a few miles to the south. And it was also lucrative. Most towns either didn’t allow such clubs at all, or had closing hours, so Black people came to Mason from Covington, Jackson, Memphis, Brownsville, Somerville, Dyersburg, sometimes even as far away as Cairo, Illinois. One true “club” (as opposed to a cafe) was across the tracks on Main Street, named for a famous Chicago blues club, the Tay-May. It booked acts of national importance, such as Al Green, Little Milton and Johnnie Taylor, and local folklore had it that Rufus Thomas first demonstrated the funky chicken there. But by the 1990’s, the music in the cafes had switched from soul and blues to rap and hip-hop, and the level of crime and discomfort to local residents from the Lower End had grown significantly. The city decided to change their ordinances to require the cafes to close at 2 AM, as clubs did in almost every other city and town in America. The results were immediate, and devastating to Mason. Tay-May burned in a spectacular fire and was never rebuilt. One by one, as cafes closed, the city condemned the buildings and had them demolished. Soon only three or so remained. A hoped-for Federal prison provided some jobs, but was not the salvation that Mason residents had hoped for. Soon, many of their retail stores were closing as well. Mason was dying.
The decision to call the new festival a “Unity” festival was also interesting to me. Despite its unusual culture and folklore for such a small town, Mason hadn’t been all that unified through my teenage years. Spiritually more attuned to adjacent Fayette County than Tipton, where it was located, Mason was an overwhelmingly Black community ruled by whites, and while it had not had the protracted discord that Fayette County had, things were still not great. Mason had never had a high school for white children, but it had had a Black high school, Gailor, which closed in 1965. In 1970 or so, the Black Fields Elementary School and white Mason Elementary School had been merged at the Mason campus. Fields was abandoned. In 1979, the principal of the school, Nevill Seay, allegedly kicked a Black parent. When WHBQ’s news crew came out from Memphis to the campus, he kicked a reporter with the cameras rolling. Dr. Isaac Richmond of the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) appeared in Mason, and soon the elementary school was being boycotted. A few weeks later, so were many businesses in Mason, including the mayor’s grocery store, although strangely, many of the targeted businesses soon bought ads in Richmond’s newspaper, the Clarksville Voice. Dr. Richmond considered himself an educator, and soon announced the formation of a Black private school, the Mason Community School. Meeting in a former funeral home near Club Tay-May, it attempted to educate the students who were boycotting the elementary school, and it did so while flying the red, black and green flag of Black liberation. The school lasted a couple of years, and then it closed, as did Mason Elementary School, and the Tipton County Schools started busing everyone to Covington schools instead. In addition, old-time residents could speak of other divisive legacies. Although laws said differently, most Black people would not go into Bozo’s to order food or sit down, as they remembered when they were required to order food to go and not permitted to eat inside. And the old-timers shuddered as they crossed a bridge on the Gainesville Road west of town, where they knew a mob had lynched a man back in 1937. By some accounts, the members of the mob had been the leading men of the town of Mason. Perhaps the lack of unity was part of the reason Mason was dying.
September 19 proved to be a bright, blue, sunny and warm day, perfect for an outdoor festival, and so I drove up to Mason and started my day with lunch at the original Gus’s Fried Chicken. Then heading down Front Street, I saw where the downtown area had been roped off, and some tents, tables and children’s bounce houses had been set up. But sadly, the attendance was rather sparse, compared to what I recalled of the festival in the 90’s, and a check of the tents and vendors revealed that the majority of them were sponsored by churches, and only a handful by businesses, and of the ones that were sponsored by businesses, most were from towns other than Mason, where there were now few businesses. One tent, for example, was run by Suga’s Diner, a restaurant about eight miles or so up Highway 70 in the Haywood County town of Stanton. Although music was supposed to be part of the Mason festival, there was mainly just a DJ,and a few local church choirs. No bands or musicians appeared at all. The newly-elected Mayor of Mason was a woman, and she spoke briefly, speaking of the town’s challenges, and reminding her hearers that “with God nothing is impossible.” Kids were doing dances called the “whip and Nae-Nae” and “hitting the quad” out in the square, while the younger kids were bouncing in the bounce house, and their elders were going in and out of the two remaining cafes, the Log Cabin and the Green Apple. I had thought that the festival might provide me with an opportunity to finally see the inside of the cafes, but this proved to be disappointing. I did briefly walk into the Log Cabin, but it was easy to see that I had interrupted the everyday routine of the place. The privacy felt palpable there, and I certainly would not violate it by taking pictures. After that, I chose not to enter the Green Apple. Yet outside, a few people asked me to take their picture. Some of them seemed to think I was working for the Covington Leader and thought my pictures would be in the paper. I had to explain to them that I was a blogger, not a reporter, but they wanted their picture taken anyway. Toward the early evening, kids began competing in a basketball shooting contest, and gospel choirs began singing a cappella on the one microphone near the DJ’s tent. The blues musician Big Don Valentine had posted on Facebook that he would be performing in Mason on Saturday and I had naively assumed that he meant at the Fall Festival. But people were now taking down the tents and the festival was winding down. Wherever Valentine was going on stage at 7 PM, it wasn’t at the Festival. So I left and headed over to Bozo’s Bar-B-Que for a dinner. While the Festival was rather sparsely attended, it had brought a lot of people together, both white and Black. And there had been no fighting or arguing to mar the day. Even the police were cordial. So in that sense, the Fall Unity Fest in Mason had been a success.

Lost Towns: In Search of Fulton and Ashport, Tennessee

1742 Mississippi River at Fort Pillow009 Pop's Place, Ashport008 Pop's Place, Ashport007 Pop's Place, Ashport006 Pop's Place, Ashport005 Pop's Place, Ashport004 Pop's Place, Ashport003 Pop's Place, Ashport002 Pop's Place, Ashport001 Pop's Place, Ashport
In the early days, when Tennessee was just becoming a state, Memphis had two rivals for dominance of the trade on the Mississippi River. Randolph, on a bluff some 30 miles north of Memphis, was the county seat of Tipton County, and about 30 miles north of Randolph was Fulton, in Lauderdale County. Since I had never been to Fulton, nor to Fort Pillow State Park, I decided to head out there one afternoon after a day of substitute teaching at Arlington Elementary. So I grabbed a late lunch at Bozo’s Bar-B-Q in Mason and then headed out through Covington to Henning, and from there out to where Google Maps told me Fulton should be. Unfortunately, I was quite disappointed, as there is really no trace of the town of Fulton. There is a Baptist church, although the building looks fairly recent, and a few houses, all of which also look fairly recent. If there was a business district once, there is no trace of it now. But I did enter Fort Pillow State Park, and got a beautiful view of the Mississippi River from a bluff inside the park. From there, I headed north through the Wildlife Management Area until I got to the beginning of Highway 19, and a community called Ashport. While Ashport is never mentioned as a rival river port to Memphis, it must have had some significance, as it was on the river, and there was an Old Ashport Road that clearly ran from Jackson, Tennessee to the area. But there was little trace of Ashport, just as there was little trace of Fulton, with one exception- an amazing, monstrous ruin of a building on Highway 19. Covered with soft drink and beer signs, it appears that the building was most recently called Pop’s Place, and must have been either a beer joint or a grocery store, or perhaps some sort of combination of both. But the old brick two-story building with a wide set of steps in the center was clearly built to be something else, perhaps a school, although a check of the internet yielded little information, and it is hard to imagine the need for a school that big in the sparsely-populated flatlands near the river. Just beyond the ruin, the road climbed a fairly steep cliff on its way toward Ripley, and the view back toward the river in the sunset was beautiful. Unfortunately, there was no good place to pull over and try to grab a photograph of what I was seeing, and no guarantee that my camera could capture it either. So I headed on into Ripley, grabbed a blizzard from the Dairy Queen, and hit the road back to Memphis.