The road trip through what was the Southwest until the Louisiana Purchase is now taking me home. A lasting memory will be of personal freedom, the kind common to an early summer morning, the day stretched out ahead free of boundaries. So many days of this month-long trip felt like that. The U.S. inter-state highway system with its bridges and causeways took us everywhere we wanted to go. Scenic byways for birders, country music fans, etc. did the rest safely and, except for the New York State Thruway, without tolls. That was part of it.
Freedom to explore in whatever direction, with whatever choices I make was another part of it. It felt like the road that leads to nothing but blue sky.
I’m left no longer merely curious about the southern region of my country, but really interested in it. The lens of someone from the Northeast I use to see the world opened up a bit. The literary works of Eudora Welty and a guided visit of her home in Jackson, Mississippi, piqued my interest. A stop yesterday at the Eastern Tennessee Flea Market
with a string band jamming some country tunes put that feeling to music.
A big part of the story of The American South, the one of African-Americans, I didn’t learn much about directly. Maybe I appreciate their sacrifice and survival more. Standing on the ground where much of this story evolved makes me think that our fellow human beings in the social-political trap that is now Afghanistan will gain their human rights one day too.
dirtroaddocs 
I was in Mississippi during revival week and their prayers and songs and foot stomping were for the people of Afghanistan… eleven years ago. It made the world feel a whole lot smaller. And I also learned about Eudora Welty that visit So glad you had a good trip.
I need to learn about revival week, Kara. I’d also like to learn about the opportunity to be part of a work team week in Mississippi.
My students at Borough of Manhattan Community College still feel deeply, and often bitterly, that racism is alive and well in this country.
I myself, having lived through the 1950s and early 60s in Alabama, will always be an optimist: that society can change for the better.
And yes, what amazing freedom in all senses of the word the financially-able in this country have. Blacks too – though with more hitches and humiliations, probably.