The Rock That Holds Mississippi Together

The idea of snow seems foreign to us now that we have both made the big move down south. The local news stations are broadcasting snow advisories, and telling people how to drive on black ice. We both cannot help but laugh out loud! The snow does not stop us Northerners from going about our daily lives. We’ve both driven in blizzards to get ourselves that cup of jo, or even to buy that new cardigan that’s on sale at Gap. Snow is just one of those things that we have always overlooked, until now.

Winter weather advisories were out the night we made plans to attend a blues concert at a local venue on historic Fairish Street. We had stumbled upon this fun-filled evening because of a late night craving for music. We just had to go listen to Mississippi’s legendary soul music. The weather was not going to stop us. We decided to take our chances and endure the “dangerous” weather.

Our first impression of the Frank Jones Corner House was intimidating. It was the only building on the block that wasn’t tattered and run down. Oddly enough, it was the only business open on North Fairish Street. It took a little encouragement to get each other out of the car, but we both managed to walk into the deserted building.

Inside, we could not believe how cozy they could make such a cold neighborhood feel. We sat down at the bar, and were instantly greeted by a middle-aged man. He got us both something to drink, and began to ask us questions. Before long, we were indulging in historical conversations revolving around Jackson with the entire staff of this cozy venue.

They were quite impressed with our curiosity of Mississippi culture. Once they warmed up to us, they brought out historical archives pertaining to a variety of things; Confederate soldier’s graves, Tupelo, The King Edward’s Hotel, and Greenwood Cemetery. They told us how they wanted to “revitalize Jackson’s historical downtown one beer at a time,” which just so happen to be their bar motto.

The middle-aged man, who was the owner of the bar, told us he was proud of his state unlike most Mississippians. He said that while growing up, everyone he encountered associated him with negative attributes, because he was from Mississippi. In response to those sorts of comments, he said his father told him to tell those people that Mississippi did something great; they were number one in mule production. “Now that is something to be proud of,” he commented.

The music started at midnight, and the venue began to draw a small crowd of locals. The band that was set to perform called themselves the Amazin’ Lazy Boi. When they first began to play, we weren’t too impressed. The music sounded just like the garage bands we heard back home. Our minds quickly changed when a small man was called up to the stage. He was called “The Rock.” He was short, skinny, and had only one arm, but could that man sing! We both stopped talking and began tapping our feet to the rhythm.

He sang covers of Ray Charles and Sam Cooke, which got the audience very hyped up. People began to steadily walk up to the stage, putting dollar bills in the tip jar. The mood of the venue had significantly changed now that “The Rock” had the microphone.

With the morning soon approaching, we decided we had to get going. The entire drive back to the dorms, we couldn’t stop talking about the music we heard. We finally got to experience the blues. The evening started with disappointment, but it ended with a life-changing experience. This evening was why we came down to Mississippi. We talked with locals who love their city, and only want what’s best for their fellow Jacksonians.

We highly recommend all of our peers to leave the gates of Millsaps and explore these hidden gems just down the street. Jackson has so much to offer, and after an evening full of blues and great conversation, we are only more motivated and excited for our next adventure.