I left New Orleans with a good feeling. My good friend Pat and I established a few solid connections that weren’t present before. I look forward to seeing her again either in Louisiana or Maine.
My trip back to Ridgeland was necessary to pick up clothing that was forgotten there and to meet Linda’s daughter Courtney. We had a very nice time in the short space of 18 hours or so. I like this family. Nice, comfortable, loving. I retrieved the clothes I’d forgotten the week before and headed over to Lufkin, Texas via Vicksburg, Mississippi and Shreveport, Louisiana.
Vicksburg felt better this time around. I didn’t feel the crush of injustice and anger and fear as I did a week earlier on my way to New Orleans. I had time to analyze my feelings about the earlier Vicksburg visit. My reflections brought up my hatred of violence and my fight or flight responses. As I examined the photo of the two soldiers earlier my feelings raced from fear to anger about having the fear. That was what I was feeling looking at the illustration/photo of the two soldiers. I was imagining being in the battles with them and the feelings that must have been raging during the lead up to and during the battles. I could feel the fear and then the anger at being afraid. Anger at self and anger as those that put me in the position to feel fear. Then I felt the anger shifting toward the other side’s soldiers and the vicious responses coming out of me toward them. The whirlwind of emotions that rage during those fear filled moments caused me to rage in the moment of viewing the exhibits at the Vicksburg National Park.
I left the National Park in good shape and wandered along the highways into Louisiana to Shreveport. I was hoping to get a flavor of that city but the population growth and expansion of the city proper has rendered the place unrecognizable from the years I was interested in seeing. I got lost trying to find a piece of Shreveport left to gaze at so I continued on through and out of the city without experiencing any of what I was looking for.
I arrived Lufkin, Texas in the evening and met Kelsie and my cousin Evy. We had dinner out and spent the next day sharing information about family. It was good to see Evy. She looks well and we had a wonderful and loving visit. Kelsie took our photo and I was pleased to notice how much alike we look. You can tell we are related.
I left Lufkin early in the day and took a planned trip along secondary roads through East Texas to San Antonio. I passed through pretty country; some parts were flat, some wooded and hilly. I stopped in Huntsville to have lunch at a well known burger joint, Mr. Hamburger. This is the town where the Texas death row inmates are executed. It is also the town where Sam Houston is buried. I visited his grave site. I was on a submarine named for him.
I arrived in San Antonio at my sister’s house on March 7th the same day I left Lufkin. I stayed in San Antonio until Monday morning, the 10th of March.
The drive to Albuquerque from San Antonio was brutal only because I had planned to get a night’s sleep before leaving SA. It was not to be. I left 12 hours earlier in the middle of the night; around 10:30 P.M. and drove nearly straight through for about 18 hours. I was exhausted from the ordeal and I was miserable for a whole day until I caught up on sleep.
On the drive to Albuquerque I stopped to see Billy the Kid’s grave in Ft. Sumner, New Mexico. The day is sunny and the road is pleasant. I take my time because I am groggy but able to focus on driving. The day ends with me in Albuquerque and in my pal Ben Adams new home town.
Playing Fair and Being Kind 