America is a beautiful thing…
Arthur Lee Brown was walking down the sidewalk on Canal Street in Natchez when I pulled up next to him on the bike and asked for directions to the Under the Hill Saloon, a bar of some notoriety.
He pointed and told me where it was and where to turn and I asked him how he was doing.
He’s from Natchez, lived there all his life, family in the area, relatives, kids, no wife. He’d been in a gang and he’s done with that. He did a 12-year stretch for a piece of bad luck; one guy had a gun, another guy died and somebody had to go to jail. Today he’s looking for a job. But unemployment is high in Natchez, among the highest in the state that has the highest unemployment rate in the country. And he’s a felon.
I asked him why he didn’t leave and he replied, “And go where?”
As he talked, I could see the rage in his hands. He had beautiful hands and I asked if I could take his picture.
I ordered a beer at the Under the Hill Saloon, four well-dressed white folks sitting at the bar and a young white girl behind it. I took a sip and got back on the Revival and rode out of town.
Tonight I’m at the Colonial Inn in Greenville, Mississippi, my second motel of the evening. My first had been the Relax Inn, where I had a forty dollar room. I took the luggage off the bike, put it on the bed and the cops showed up, a couple of squad cars across the parking lot followed by a bunch of banging on doors. As the banging was going on, Lenny from next door stopped by and told me what a nice bike I had, and did I want to ‘buy something, weed, anything you need.’
I’ve known guys like Lenny; 40-some years old, still working nickel-dime hustles, still trying to score. I said “no thanks” knowing that he’d be back, knowing that he’d try to sell me something and that I’d refuse, knowing that it would escalate, knowing that I had an expensive and fragile motorcycle parked in front of my room. He went back to his room and I loaded the bike and rode down the road to the Colonial Inn and got a fifty dollar room. Cops haven’t been here yet.
I had breakfast at the Little Easy Cafe, cheesy grits, collard greens and a veggie omelet. The chef is a guy named Jay who’s spent his career in the restaurant business, and what he wants to do is write.