Tuesday November 23 I was headed up through Hattiesburg,
Mississippi, surprised to find myself driving through pine forests and not the cotton fields that the entire south is supposed to be covered with. I stopped for gas and a breather in Meridian, once and possibly still home to relatives on my Mother’s side. My history is vague and hazy as to which great aunts lived where and for just how long. Galveston was home to the Akerholm family for most of their later years. My Great grandparents had immigrated separately to the US from Sweden, arriving at Port Arthur, and then settling in McComb Mississippi. There they started their family and after a few kids headed nort
h to Chicago, where they lived and worked for the next ten years or so, increasing their brood - my grandmother Nana among them. She was born the year of the great Chicago World’s fair of 1893 – where the White City was constructed – quite possibly the family attended the fair , maybe my great grandfather who was a carpenter, worked on its construction. Meridian, Mississippi was where my grandmother’s older sister, Nida, lived at the end and my mother visited there over the years when Nana was lonesome for family. My grandmother settled far away like I had and I understood her longings for home and childhood. Every adventurous mile she had put between herself and her family was tinged with a hint of regret, the distance between now scattered with graves. I follow the path back along a series of steppingstones composed of sketchy dates, occasional letters and snatches of conversations. I should have visited McComb, Mississippi, where more of the family had lived and died -but this trip wasn’t that kind of pilgrimage. Were I doing the journey now, I would not have skirted Galveston and Port Arthur, in 1971 I was too filled with life and youthfulness 
to linger over now empty homes of people I had never met. Grown older, I think about the past a lot – then I was all about the present and the yet to be. It was ancient history - I’d find out about it some other time, ask questions later - I had places to go and my own life to chart. I didn’t dawdle there, but refilled my tank, smiling and waving off the young kid who pumped my gas and begged me - ‘can I go?’ I was headed on to Alabama and the college where I hoped to spend the next night.
Mississippi, surprised to find myself driving through pine forests and not the cotton fields that the entire south is supposed to be covered with. I stopped for gas and a breather in Meridian, once and possibly still home to relatives on my Mother’s side. My history is vague and hazy as to which great aunts lived where and for just how long. Galveston was home to the Akerholm family for most of their later years. My Great grandparents had immigrated separately to the US from Sweden, arriving at Port Arthur, and then settling in McComb Mississippi. There they started their family and after a few kids headed nort
h to Chicago, where they lived and worked for the next ten years or so, increasing their brood - my grandmother Nana among them. She was born the year of the great Chicago World’s fair of 1893 – where the White City was constructed – quite possibly the family attended the fair , maybe my great grandfather who was a carpenter, worked on its construction. Meridian, Mississippi was where my grandmother’s older sister, Nida, lived at the end and my mother visited there over the years when Nana was lonesome for family. My grandmother settled far away like I had and I understood her longings for home and childhood. Every adventurous mile she had put between herself and her family was tinged with a hint of regret, the distance between now scattered with graves. I follow the path back along a series of steppingstones composed of sketchy dates, occasional letters and snatches of conversations. I should have visited McComb, Mississippi, where more of the family had lived and died -but this trip wasn’t that kind of pilgrimage. Were I doing the journey now, I would not have skirted Galveston and Port Arthur, in 1971 I was too filled with life and youthfulness 
to linger over now empty homes of people I had never met. Grown older, I think about the past a lot – then I was all about the present and the yet to be. It was ancient history - I’d find out about it some other time, ask questions later - I had places to go and my own life to chart. I didn’t dawdle there, but refilled my tank, smiling and waving off the young kid who pumped my gas and begged me - ‘can I go?’ I was headed on to Alabama and the college where I hoped to spend the next night. The University of Alabama was arranged with a fraternity and sorority area of matching houses of red brick and white trim and finding my call letters I knocked on the door 
and was met with friendly faces. They had a sensible arrangement for sleeping and living, 3-4 girls shared a large bedroom which was used for study, socializing, dressing, etc. - while down the hall was a large ‘sleeping’ room filled with bunks, kept dark 24hours - so the weary could find rest at any time of day or night while their roommates chatted. The girls were in a festive mood since Thanksgiving vacation was imminent and everyone was ready for that nice family break before finals and papers crowded out the last few weeks of the semester. I joined in by quizzing one for a test, proofing another’s paper, hemming a skirt, in return I got to do my laundry and eat in their cafeteria, call my Tennessee relatives and the next day was on my way north.
and was met with friendly faces. They had a sensible arrangement for sleeping and living, 3-4 girls shared a large bedroom which was used for study, socializing, dressing, etc. - while down the hall was a large ‘sleeping’ room filled with bunks, kept dark 24hours - so the weary could find rest at any time of day or night while their roommates chatted. The girls were in a festive mood since Thanksgiving vacation was imminent and everyone was ready for that nice family break before finals and papers crowded out the last few weeks of the semester. I joined in by quizzing one for a test, proofing another’s paper, hemming a skirt, in return I got to do my laundry and eat in their cafeteria, call my Tennessee relatives and the next day was on my way north.
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