Mindi Kelly hands Lamont a blessing bag filled with socks, deodorant, toothpaste, wipes, chapstick, a fruit cup, and a chicken salad kit. He reads the words “God bless you. You are loved. We will get through this together,” which Mindi had written on the outside of his Ziploc bag.
The heart may truly love, but pieces of Mobile history could be forgotten if Mother Nature reclaims this land. From Civil Rights leaders to educators. From doctors and musicians to Mardi Gras Queens. From grandparents to grandchildren. Their bodies are buried, but their names and stories should live on.
Downtown Anchorage, the largest city in Alaska, is empty. Cruises are canceled, so no ships are docked in the harbor unloading tourists to eat and drink at the Glacier Brewhouse, to buy sweatshirts and flakes of gold at Trapper Jack's Trading Post, or to line up around the block to take the trolley tour. The windows of the Hard Rock Cafe are boarded with plywood and bike racks are empty. At the Dark Horse Cafe, masks are required because the cafe owners are fighting to stay open with the few customers they have.
You have to look beyond the front page to find kindness. To see we aren't always letting each other down. These would be the stories from my front page this week.
During the past few weeks, Emmett Till's name has been chanted in protests and marches across the country, including Fairhope and Mobile. We need to know his story, not just say his name.
She is more than a woman resting in a swing. She raised seven kids, but ran away with the youngest two, leaving her marriage to an abusive man. She went to seminary, married a pastor, and will soon be the pastor of her own small church.
Fairhope is a tale of two cities, with sunny sides and dark sides, restaurant owner Pete Blohme said. Blohme owns Panini Pete’s and Sunset Pointe in Fairhope, Ed’s Seafood Shed in Spanish Fort, and Squid Ink in Mobile.
“People struggle here just like anywhere else, but they are hidden away,” he said in an interview before the Coronavirus. “We also have businesses, churches, and organizations that care.”
This “fair hope of success” is the feel-good history of Fairhope, but the untold story is of the black people who go back for generations and who have never been anywhere else, according to the Rev. John Whitfield, founding pastor of New Zion Christian Church.
Ecumenical Ministries, a social services agency in Fairhope, has provided help to low-income families and individuals in Baldwin County for 50 years. Executive Director Sally Dean said affordable housing is the biggest issue for the working poor in Fairhope and everywhere else in the country, but there are no easy answers.
This is humankind’s response to disasters. Southern disasters rip off roofs. They toss church awnings and trailers into trees. They scatter family photos and children’s art around the yard. Sometimes our disasters leave us with little more than the clothes on our backs. But we help our neighbors recover, rebuild, and move on.
As two men walked past the church, one said, "Thank you very much brother. If I don't say it every day, you better remind me to say it."
I don't know what he was thankful for, but I found my own reasons to be thankful for today.
I was supposed to celebrate on the porch of Eudora Welty's house in Jackson, MS, reading her words and mapping out where she took pictures in the Mississippi Delta during the 1930s. The plan was to take pictures in those same locations and interview the oldest people in the smallest towns -- collecting life advice and preserving stories.
An outlined hand holding a sign that reads, "All Are Welcome," is part of the unfinished and uncolored mural on the wall at Central Presbyterian Church in Mobile. Artist Kathleen Kirk Stoves is waiting for the COVID-19 pandemic to pass to fill it in. The mural is a celebration of community and Kirk hopes the community will one day add the colors that bring it to life.
Hurricanes and tornadoes. We know the destruction of natural disasters and that the worst of times brings out the best in people. When hearts and hands are all we have left, generosity thrives. This COVID pandemic is different and we must stay away from each other to save each other. Those of us aching to help can only stay home. There are many things right now that hurt, but we are finding new ways to come together. We just need to keep John Prine.
