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Wednesday, March 30, 2005
We began our day by going through the interpretive center at Reelfoot Lake State Park. They had a couple bald eagles and some other predatory birds in cages for up-close viewing. The bald eagle certainly is a beautiful bird. After saying good morning to the eagles, we walked on the boardwalk through the cypresses. We were mystified by the cypress knees. After seeing a beaver-cut tree stump, Gus theorized that they were the stumps of cypresses that had been felled by beavers. We then went through the museum on the site, where we learned that no one is really sure why there are cypress knees. After we realized we were thus far souvenirless, Gus got a deck of cards and Zoe got a stuffed raccoon that she named Rocky. Daddy told her the Beatles had a song called "Rocky Raccoon." She was unimpressed.
After leaving Reelfoot Lake State Park, we drove through the far western tip of Kentucky, which is detached from the rest of the state by a loop of the Mississippi. Here is a link to a map of the area, although you'll have to change the map size to "large" and the map scale to "1:250,000" to really see the area. It's one of those areas that Nick has wanted to see since he was about Gus's age. There was nothing much there. We drove to the end of the road and up onto the levee, which we drove on for a mile or two before heading back down to the flatland. We never did see the Mississippi on this little jaunt--there's a bit of bottomland between the levee and the river, and that bottomland is full of trees. Nick was hoping to catch a glimpse of New Madrid, Missouri, which is just across the river from this area. On the trip back north, we stopped in New Madrid and looked at this area from across the river.
From there, it was back into Tennessee for a bit, then across the Mississippi (Gus and Zoe were probably tired by this time of hearing Nick say, "Remember how small it was when we crossed at La Crosse?!" every time we crossed the river) to Missouri, then down I-55 through Arkansas to Memphis. Just west of West Memphis, Arkansas, we stopped at a McDonalds for lunch. When we came out of the bathrooms after washing our hands, a guy struck up a conversation with us. He said he was out of work and needed money to get food for his kids, who were at home just up the road. He described how he was going to go to the store and get some things, including a chicken. His description of how he was going to cook the chicken included the word "boil." Nick figured he might have been telling the truth and gave him $10.
After lunch, we got back on the road and into Memphis. We crossed the Mississippi again (Gus and Zoe were now starting to reply a little sarcastically to Nick's admonishment to see how wide the river was here), and Nick pointed out the Pyramid. We never did figure out what the Pyramid is, exactly. It makes sense that Memphis would have a pyramid, of course; Memphis was the capital of ancient Egypt, after all. After the trip, we checked on the internet and found that the Pyramid is an arena.
What trip to Memphis could be complete without a trip to Graceland?! The Guidelines had actually only allowed for a drive-by of the mansion on the way to Helena, Arkansas, but Gus and Zoe saw a billboard advertising the Graceland Days Inn, which has a guitar-shaped pool and 24-hour Elvis movies. Well, who could resist that?!
After checking in, we headed for Graceland. Nick called to see if they allowed video cameras, and they don't, so we went next door to a souvenir shop and picked up a disposable camera. Flash photography is not allowed inside Graceland, and the camera we got didn't have fast-enough film, so only five photos of the 27 we took turned out reasonably decent, with another half dozen or so actually visible. They didn't even bother developing 14 of the pictures because they were so dark. Cindy said we should have got a camera with at least 1000 speed film.
The Graceland Days Inn is less than a block from Graceland, so we walked over, got our tickets, and toured the mansion. Actually, mansion is a bit of an exaggeration. Although it's a rather large house, describing it as a mansion is just going too far. We were equipped with headphones hooked up to a device with a keypad that played certain narration when certain numbers on the keypad were pressed. Zoe was quite meticulous about making sure she was listening to the right narration and is now a budding Elvis fan. She was full of questions like, "How old would Elvis be now if he hadn't died?" Gus, on the other hand, was a bit bored with the tour. For Nick, the most interesting things were in the "trophy room," where Elvis's gold records, army uniforms, and other assorted things are displayed. Nick took a picture of Gus and Zoe standing beside the gold lame suit display; of course, that one didn't turn out. The tour ended at the gravesite, where Elvis, his parents, and his grandmother are buried. It's kind of ironic that grandma outlived the rest of the family!
After the tour, we spent an hour picking out souveniers. Gus got an Elvis shot glass. Zoe wanted a teddy bear. There was one in a gold lame suit for $9.95, but she didn't want that one--she wanted his $40 denim-clad brother! In the end, she got a pillow with "Girls! Girls! Girls!" on it and a pocket on the back with a diary in it. From that moment on, she kept a record of our trip in that diary.
Back at the motel, the kids went swimming. It was a beautiful day--the thermometer in the car had read 72 degrees--but the water in the pool was about 42 degrees. This did not deter Gus or Zoe. For supper, Nick decided we'd run on down to Beale Street and try a restaurant there. You hear so much about Beale Street that it would be a shame to stay in Memphis and not go there, right?
A quick glance at the map tells you that, to get downtown from Graceland, you go north on Elvis Presley Boulevard and turn left when you see the tall buildings to your left. As far as that goes, that's correct. But Elvis Presley Boulevard turns into another road and plunges through the deepest ghetto. On one side of the street was boarded up building after boarded up building, while on the other side of the street were alternating liquor stores and check cashing places. Everything looked ghetto, and it was just getting dark. Nick began to think that heading down to Beale Street wasn't such a good idea. Then a car overtook us from behind and passed us on the left. The passenger's side of the windshield was all spider-webbed like it had been hit with a brick. The passenger was a young black man holding a handgun. Nick backed way off on the accelerator and let the car go on by. When we caught up with them and had to pass them at the next stoplight, Nick glanced out of the corner of his eye but didn't see the gun. It's possible he imagined it, but he'd swear on a stack of Bibles that he did see it. In the back seat, Gus and Zoe saw that they were in the ghetto and were talking trash and flashing various hand signals at each other; Nick was sure the wrong person would see the wrong hand signal and open fire on the car.
Nick was now convinced that picking up some drive-through fast food to take back to the motel was the course of action to pursue. Of course, implementing this plan was problematic, as the first rule of driving through the 'hood is to stay on the main roads. If you go around the block in order to go back the way you came, you're all alone in the jungle, and anything could happen. So Nick kept going north, knowing that, sooner or later, he'd come to an expressway and he could escape. Before that could happen, though, we came to an intersection with a street whose name he recognized from his look at the map in the motel and that would take us downtown. He hung a left, and pretty soon, we were in downtown Memphis.
It was actually quite easy to find Beale Street, but after the trip through the ghetto, Nick wasn't sure he wanted to stop downtown. On a first pass across Beale Street on a side street, it looked like a smaller version of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. It was brightly lit, and there were people all over the place. In fact, there must have been some kind of Harley Davidson event, as the street was barricaded to all but motorcycles. A second trip across the street revealed numerous security people and police, and a third crossing of the street revealed several families with kids. That made Nick decide it would be okay to take the kids downtown, and we pulled into a parking garage.
We were three or four blocks off Beale Street, so there was a bit of walking to do. We passed a man who asked for a buck; assured us he was only going to get grape juice with it, not wine; and said it wasn't a hand-out because he was going to give us a string of beads for the dollar. We politely declined. When we got to Beale Street, we walked down the sidewalk looking for what might be a good place to eat. We decided on the King's Palace Cafe. It was pretty full, even on a Wednesday night, and we sat at a table underneath the stairs to the second floor. We didn't know it until we got back home, but those stairs led up to where one of the two known pictures of Robert Johnson was taken. Gus and Zoe had chicken strips, and Nick had a catfish sandwich. Good stuff! Outside in the side alley, there was a band playing blues, and we could hear it every time the restaurant's side door opened. Inside, there was a guy playing an electric keyboard and singing the blues.
After we ate, we went outside and turned to go back to the car. Zoe tugged on Nick's arm, wanting to walk farther down the street. Gus thought it would be good idea to go back to the motel. Zoe won, of course, as Nick wanted to explore, too. Ironically, Gus got the lion's share of the souvenirs at the three or four places we went into.
When we got back to the car, we had a bit of a problem exiting the parking garage. There was no attendant to pay, and a sign said to pay the automated bill taker. Parking cost $5, and the machine said it took $1, $5, and $10 bills. All Nick had was a $10 bill, but the machine wouldn't accept it. It kept kicking it back out. Had there simply been a gate, Nick may have bumped it to break it and escaped, but there was an iron grille over the exit. Finally, a guy who worked for the hotel the ramp must be associated with came in, and he had two $5 bills for Nick's $10 bill. We escaped and took an alternate route that avoided the 'hood back to the motel.
Grateful to be safe and sound back at the Graceland Days Inn, we watched Elvis in "GI Blues" until we went to sleep.
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