Sarepta

Catalpa blossoms, my first impression of Sarepta

Last summer, on my road trip cross country I took Interstate 10 through Louisiana. West of New Orleans, the highway crosses through bayou country for a long stretch. It is a beautiful journey and at the time I decided I would go back there and do some exploring. Serendipitously, when I started planning my move to Palm Springs, I made contact with Eddie McMurray who lives in Sarepta, Louisiana, about 40 miles from Shreveport. Eddie and I corresponded, talked on the phone and he invited me to stop through Sarepta on my way to California. So, after a short visit with family in Alabama, I drove Interstate 20 across Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana and arrived at Sarepta for what was an unexpected adventure that also included some bayou exploration.

St. Peter Mission Baptist Church where Eddie
was interim Minister

As a congenital Southerner (my mother, father, and brother were all born in Alabama) I have always had deep, mixed feelings about my heritage. As a boy I summered in various parts of Alabama. I have already written about how much I love Lake Martin. My memories of staying with aunts and uncles, of food fresh from the garden, of fish fries, barbecue, cornbread, and fried chicken from chickens that were running loose in the back yard earlier in the day they appeared on the dinner table are golden. I relish he time I spent exploring woods and fields, swimming in lakes, creeks, and the Gulf of Mexico. I grew up reading Faulkner, Styron, Harper Lee, Eudora Welty, Joel Chandler Harris. I owe a good deal of my college education to as tory I wrote about my grandmother's funeral that earned me a William Faulkner Scholarship at the University of Virginia. I felt a special connection to Thomas Jefferson. My ancestors included, Sephardic Jews, and French Huguenots who settled in the deep south. I am descended from Creek Indians who were chased from their lands in Alabama during the trail of tears.

The old town has been replaced by strip malls
and fast food restaurants on the main highway

I cringe at the current politics, but then I cringe at the state of politics everywhere. I respect the beliefs of many in my family even if I don't share them. I wonder what became of the great literary tradition. And I miss the home cooking.

The first thing that struck me about the area is how much it like where I had just come from in Alabama. Indeed, the three states have much in common in terms of land and civilization. We may be one nation under God, but we are not one nation demographically. Even in what we call "the south" there are fundamental differences. Alamissiana is not Texas, is not Florida. But I digress.

Me and Eddie at the marker where bank robbers Bonnie Parker
and Clyde Barrow were ambushed an killed.

Sarepta is in northwest Louisiana. It was once the site of one of the largest paper mills in the US. Today most of the people who live here work in local service businesses and restaurants or commute to Shreveport or other nearby towns. Sarepta is home to C&W singer and actor Trace Atkins. My host Eddie grew up in Sarepta. He had a successful career as a concert pianist and lived away from Sarepta for many years. He moved back here to help care for his centenarian mother. Today, he teaches piano  and Bible studies. He has also served as interim minister at one of the many local Baptist churches. He lives with three other men who he has known for years. He is also an unofficial counselor helping many people with their personal problems.

Eddie's father was principal at this Rosenwald School
that is now in ruins.

Eddie is a marvelous host. He took me touring to several of the local bayous and nearby towns. He took me to the Bonnie an Clyde Authentic Ambush Museum where I met L.J. "Boots" Hinton, Museum spokesman and son of Deputy Sheriff Ted Hinton, participant in the actual ambush. According to L.J. and the exhibits in the museum, the movie that was such a formative influence in my developing aesthetic when I was at university, was about 5% true. At least once percent is their sense of style. They were young, and very stylish, and good looking. No wonder they were such popular figures in the depth of the depression.

And as much as I enjoyed seeing the bayous, what I really enjoyed was getting a look into the lives of the people I met. I'd like to thank Eddie, Vila, John, Steve, Vinnie, Michael, Rod, and all the other people who helped me reconnect with my southerness in a positive way. At the risk of sweeping over simplification, I found that one on one southern hospitality is still intact. That one on one people connect with the heart first. If matters of the head – race, or religion, or politics, or social issues – get involved, all bets are off. 

Cypress trees

Non sequitur

The power went off for over two hours while I was working on this blog entry. Two hours of media and technology deprivation  No Internet or no TV news. No electricity. It was a small reminder of how fragile our connection is to the 21st century and how unprepared we are were we to have to do without it for an extended period.

Berm at Bayou Dorcheat

Bayou Bodcau

Bayou Bodcau

Bayou Bodcau