Part 13 (1/2)

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 9, 2001

Wow, Mama. I wouldn't have wanted to be in your shoes. Still, that had to be some trip!

Now about the gift shop(s) at Graceland. Yes, there are several, and I got a bunch of stuff for a few people that I knew would trip out over some kitschy memorabilia. As I was paying, I noted that a CARRIE Graceland key chain was still on the counter, and I asked the lady if she had charged me for it. An older Filipino woman standing there next in line said, ”No, that's mine.” I took a beat and said, ”That's MY name.” And she said, ”MINE, TOO!” Naturally, we had to chat. She's from the Philippines, but lives on Oahu now. I told her a close friend of our family has land in Hana, Maui, but she said she doesn't like it there. ”No malls.” Hmmm.

Got in my car to head out. Now the funny thing is, they're doing tons of highway construction and on my way in here it took me several attempts going back and forth on the 55 to actually FIND Graceland. I thought, jeez, I've come this far, all the way to Memphis, and I can't find Graceland!?!? Finally, I did, but when I was leaving the same thing happened in reverse and I kept RE-finding Graceland! Now I couldn't get AWAY from it! I had to laugh out loud at each attempt.

Last night was interesting. I went on a ”blues hunt” down Beale Street, looking for catfish and some good music. I wound up at the Blues City Cafe where I had a catfish sandwich, which tasted great. Bottom feeder or no, I love catfish. Why, Mama, why am I ALWAYS HUNGRY?

Beale is kind of like this Universal City walk of blues and clubs and drunks, but the musicians.h.i.+p is VERY high. The first club I went to, I stood next to Walter, an older cat who lives close by. He was surprised when I introduced myself and asked his name, ”I haven't had a young lady introduce herself to me in about thirty-five years!” He was very funny and nice, and said, ”You know who you remind me of? Carol Burnett! In her younger years, y'know, but you got them Bette Davis eyes!” (I was pleased with the compliment, Mama, but I didn't let on.) Walter, whose nickname is ”Slim,” told me I could get into another club up the street called B.B.'s for free if I mentioned his name. So I did.

B.B.'s had the best sound system of all the clubs I went to. The band that night was a Prince cover band, and I hung out and talked with them for a while afterward. All really nice guys, pros who tour constantly. A couple of them, Dale and Paul, escorted me back to the hotel, which was nice. Even though it was late in a downtown area, I felt totally safe. Every man I met was a complete gentleman. It was a good night, if not necessarily the night of music I had hoped for. But I know that it's rare just to meander into town and happen upon something wonderful. But once again, the Southern hospitality was thick and much appreciated.

I cannot for the life of me understand why some people go through life being unfriendly or not taking the risk to smile when they walk into a room ... it makes the whole world open up to you.

I know the thing I have of most value to wear isn't an expensive dress but my smile, my humor, and the very real fact that I like people and feel joy on a daily basis.

Well, it's off to the third big stop on my road trip: Belleville, Arkansas, where Nanny and your mama were born.

Love, C

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 10, 2001

Subject: BELLEVILLE, ARKANSAS!!

Mama, today was absolutely the best day yet-so unbelievable that I don't think I can describe it accurately, but I'll give it the ol' college try. I left Memphis early this a.m. feeling happy and excited to get back on the road. The hotel employees were all so great, and I had a wonderful time there. Didn't get to say good-bye to the ducks since they were still chillin' in their penthouse when I checked out.

I hit the road, crossing the mighty Mississippi again and drove right into Arkansas. Once I started to get into the Ozarks, it got very beautiful. This amazing country has so much to offer us, especially if you go off the beaten path a bit. I turned off the 40 and down the 7 by a town called Russellville, then west on the smaller country Route 10.

There it was: Belleville. Population 371. A wink of a town with one cafe (the Memory Lane), one store that sold everything from overalls to groceries to 2x4's, one beauty parlor (Ruth's), and a railroad crossing (that's how a lot of the town got settled). The town is surrounded by trees and quaint, well-kept homes. As I drove in I spotted a bunch of old geezers hanging out at an equally old gas station (out of service), and one of them was fixing a tractor tire.

I parked, and asked the guy fixing the tire if he knew anywhere I could go in town to look up the birth records of a couple of people born in Belleville. ”Who you looking for?” he asked. When I said the Joneses and the Meltons, the oldest man in the bunch, who turned out to be Mr. Turnbull, said ”I knew them Meltons. When I was a kid I used to make fun of Henry for bein' so old. Now I'm older than he was!!”

And we were off and running... .

Belleville, Arkansas, Main Street

I remembered telling Carrie that according to family lore, Herman Melton, Henry's younger brother, was supposedly my mother's secret father, and therefore my real grandfather. I say ”supposedly” because my grandmother, Nanny (”Mae” in her younger days), may have lied on my mama Louise's birth certificate for reasons that still remain a family mystery. Seems Nanny had a checkered past.