Gulfport/Hattiesburg, Mississippi

My first trip. 8/10-11, 2006

Day One:
I arrived at the airport plenty early, my neat, new wheeled, carry on bag in tow behind me and the gigantic, employer provided laptop bag pretty much crushing my shoulder. Note: get a new laptop bag.

Being the geek I am, I scoped out the airline's equipment on the web page beforehand, and knew that it was a small plane, but a relatively luxurious small plane--the Embraer 170--it has a wider, four across interior and more head and leg room than most small jets. It's Brazilian made and has an excellent safety record.

I caught a 2:40 flight out of Atlanta bound for Gulfport. The captain warned us ahead of time that the weather could be rough. There was the usual amount of bumping and grinding you'd expect in the summer time...until we came out of the sky around Gulfport.

On this day, a heavy summer storm covered most of the gulf coast. As we descended through the clouds into the city, bits and sparks of lightning snapped over and across the wing of the plane. From the air, deadly lightning is exquisitely pale, pearl orange with a hint of electric blue--and you can see an Earth-bound streak of it from cloud top to its explosive strike point.

The pilot carefully navigated around the heart of the storm and over the city. I anticipated landing with pale knuckles and damp hands. the sharp thunk of the landing gear opening tunneled through the plane and offered hope that we'd be on the ground safely soon.

...Or not. The pilot announced that due to a navigation equipment failure in the tower, our landing was waived off at the last minute. So another trip or two around the city as the storm seemed to grow closer and stronger....harder to avoid.

Finally we hit the ground on our second try. Everyone knows the feeling of being in a city's airport for the first time--seeking signage, direction for the directionless. I hovered quietly for a moment, out of the way of the experienced, and got my bearings.

Down the stairs to the rental car area. Where are the rental car counters?
Why are there two feet of water on the floor between baggage claim and the ticket counter? I waded down and out of the airport, and into the long, leaky series of "covers" leading to the parking lot and the rental car...trailers?

The storm still raged. I stood fast with a few military guys, chatting, waiting for the weather to pass. Finally, a little lull and I sprint toward the Thrifty hut.

There I find a very kind staff of two, and I'm being nicer than I should be. They are dilligently mopping up their trailer, and I'm dripping everywhere--soaked to the bone, wet socks, wet jeans up to my knees--they invite me to come on into the little building and I do.

"You're a librarian? I love to go to the library, so does my daughter."
"Oh honey, I ain't been to a library in ten years."

I'm off and driving a nice upgrade--a Dodge Stratus when I'm expecting a Neon. The storm rages on, I have an hour of driving ahead, Gulfport to Hattiesburg on Hwy. 49. The rain lets up for a few minutes and lets me find my way out of Gulfport. No sooner than I'm in more clean sailing though, it starts up strong again.

After a couple of wrong turns (If you're driving from Gulfport to Hattiesburg, JUST stay on hwy 49, it'll take you straight in..stupid mapquest) I make it to Hattiesburg, check into my hotel--which is falling apart, but being repaired--and make plans for dinner at the nearest chain restaurant, a Lone Star steak house within walking distance.

I can see I'm going to like eating at the bar at these places, soaking up a beer or two and some local color/culture. I sit down and this Irish gentleman is talking with this African American man. It sounds like the start of a good joke. I eavesdrop as the barkeep gets my beer and food. They talk of American air superiority and automatic weapons and baseball. Bravo.

The bar is tended by two college students--a frat boy and a normal sort of college aged woman who the old guys at the bar like. She enjoys the attention.

After dinner, I settle in, talk with Dawn for awhile, review my notes, and by 7 PM, I'm out--apparently, I was exhausted.

Day Two:

I'm up super early, but not without a good night's sleep. The room was dirtish, moldy, and not very well kept, but the sheets were clean and the air cool and comfortable. I try to iron my shirt, but the hotel iron is junk. I call and ask for another--and I'm rudely told that I can "come down and GET one if I WANT one."

Ready and out the door in plenty of time. I find University of Southern Mississippi with no problems, park, and head into the library. The campus is nice, clean, well manicured with nice flowers all over. Green. The area that encountered so much destruction still shows it, but the beauty seeps through the ruins, both in the pride taken to rebuild, and in the attitude of the people you meet.

I have a great class with a good group of people, and at the end, get a good restaurant suggestion from the staff at the University of Southern Mississippi Gulfport campus.

I drive back to Gulfport. I have to stay over because I can't get back in time for the last flight of the day. The drive back is very enjoyable. A clear, sunny day, minimal traffic, and I'm surrounded on all sides by the DeSoto National Forest. I find my hotel, kick off the hot, dressy teaching clothes and change. I discover the restaurant that was suggested for me is again within walking distance and I head out to the Blowfly Inn. On the way over, I discover my hotel is pushed flush up against a KrispyKreme doughnut shop. Later.

Yes, the Blowfly Inn.

I walk in and I'm greeted by the nicest hostess, who seats me. I can tell this is going to be a treat. The waitress is middle aged and kind, and of course--calls me honey and darlin'. Sorry darlin. She suggests the ribs, and I read through the menu and agree. They're served up nicely with a lovely, warm , thick, red bar b que sauce. These are the most amazing ribs--there's like a firm, juicy steak wedged between each bone.

I finish them up, along with a side of excellent seafood gumbo and a sweet tea. After, I relax for a bit and enjoy watching the locals/regulars pop in and out. A guy sat across from me, obviously a hard-working construction man in town for a clean up job. When asked by the waitress if he'd like something to drink he heartily groaned into a giggle..."A glass of tea about as big as you can find." She brought him a pitcher.

I walk back to the hotel and relax for a bit, then KrispyKreme, and then a few minutes of sleep.

I wake up way too early to find Coal Miner's Daughter on. If it's on, the rule is--you have to watch it. I didn't get much sleep this night, but that's ok--Loretta's adventures in Butcher Holl'er are far more fascinating than anything I can dream up.

I fall asleep again around 4:30, and then wake to a ringing phone at 5. Flight's canceled. Rebooked on the 9. That's ok, I can sleep later, and still get back to Atlanta around the same time.

I do, the flight is uneventful in spite of the nice surprise they got in London the night before. So much for a new carry on. Just check 'em all.

I take Marta back to the office, and leave early for home.

I enjoyed my first trip a good bit. I found the gulf coast of Mississippi agreeable and nice. The people were surprisingly lacking in cynicism and eager to please. I had people in my class who are still living in FEMA trailers, but they are able to have a sense of humor about it. I look forward to going back there.