Mission Post #27 - Getting the Lay of the Land

Today, while Sr. Darlene was taking care of other matters, we were directed to orient ourselves to Pemiscott County and just drive around.  She especially told me that I was to leave my camera at home.  She has figured out very quickly that my camera is like a third arm and she felt it was important for me to learn to live and see "in the moment".  This was a painful assignment but I was up for the task. Then she told me that I was to not turn on my cell phone either.  No electronics.  She knows my weakness. She is a very discerning woman and a quick study of human behavior.

So off we went and the first leg of our trip was really strange, mainly due to the crazy county map we were following.  It was practically a hand drawn relic.  Yes, we are in a different world.

The first hour of our drive, we followed county roads to a place called Kinfolk Ridge where we saw an old Baptist church, a place called Martha's Stitching Post, and 3 golden dogs who looked to all be from the same litter and all a bit under weight.  From there we aimed south to Cottonwood Point and an old cemetery which we never actually spotted.  We ended  up in a community called Brasher.  There is an old but well-preserved Sinclair Gas sign there that I would like to go back and photograph it.

We continued to slowly and carefully drive the gravel covered road that hug the levy, ever aware of the Mighty Mississippi flowing just over on the other side.  I have to admit that the levy area we drove through was a bit unsettling.  It had very much the feeling of a Tobacco Road environment and I was very much pushing the boundaries of what I am familiar with.

For many miles, we followed the gravel levy road passing poor homes, sagging barns, old farm equipment and fallow fields.  We saw absolutely no one.  The drive felt eerily empty.  When we finally found ourselves back on paved road, we were both very relieved but for very different reasons: Don was glad to be off the gravel and I was feeling like I had arrived back in a familiar world.

We found ourselves back in Caruthersville so we stopped for lunch at the Round House. This building is exactly as it sounds and has been a C'ville institution for over 75 years.  We poured over the map to try to make some sense out of it.  We picked a new destination and headed out one of the main county roads.  This time I did much better on my navigating.  North, south, east, and west were starting to make sense.

We found ourselves in the tiny hamlets of Braggadocia and Deering.  These communities grew up on the farmland of the area and each has their own zip code and tiny post office.  One other thing that I noticed was that there was one church for each town.  The first was one of the various Baptists church of which there are many in the area and the other was Methodist.  This lead me to wonder if the small communities of farmers that grew up around the churches were Methodists or Baptists to begin with OR were they Christian people without a church to anchor their communities and whoever arrived there first was the one to pitch their tent (so to speak).  No matter; it's good to see that there is a church serving the communities.  People need a gathering place.

After our excursion, we returned to meet up with Sister and drove to a little town south of us to deliver clothes to Open Hand Ministries.  We spent about an hour and a half sorting and hanging everything from baby clothes to men's jeans.   The local pound was right behind us and the dogs frequently set up a great chorus of howls.

After our work there, we drove by the park where Sister holds her summer Bible Camp.  She has been doing this for several years and has come to know many of the kids very well.  As she drove us through the neighborhood, my heart broke.  Even if a child's particular house isn't degraded, the neighborhood, as a whole, is.

Condemned and crumbling buildings
Existing home that were never quite right even when they were new
Debris
Trash
Dead foliage
Befouled streams

This is what they see everyday.  It is little wonder that children grow up without a sense of hope or aspirations for something better.  This is why Sister's summer work here is so important.  They remember her.  They come looking for her.  In a hopeless world, she is planting seeds of hope.  Some of them will catch a seed and blossom.