Not Without My Father: One Woman's 444-Mile Walk of the Natchez Trace (23 page)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Books come to life because of the people who care about them.
Not Without My Father
is a tour de force of caring. I have a village of people to thank.

Michael T Maher, you are the most supportive husband on the planet. You believe in me when belief fails me. I couldn’t do anything without you.

Alice Guess, you signed up for this craziness early, and you never wavered. You got me through my first week of walking, and you messaged me every day when you left. I never would’ve made it to the end without you. Thanks to Gordon and Cayleigh for sharing you with me.

Lisa Kramer and Tori Nelson, you made two days on the Trace hilarious. Tori, thanks to you, Tom and Thomas for putting us up for four days at the end of my walk.

Kristen and Cooper Cronin, I love you both. Thank you for making memories with me.

Jessie Powell and Scott Merriman, thank you for making the trek to Tennessee to meet me.

Cindy Duryea and Katy Duryea, thank you for surprising me at the Nashville finish line with Kitty Windham (Cindy’s mom and Katy’s grandmother). We lost Kitty on November 1, 2014. She died peacefully, driving and doing and going until her last day. I’m even more grateful Cindy chose to make this memory.

Mary Howard and Stephen King of Tupelo, Mississippi, thank you for taking in a complete stranger for dinner. I loved spending an evening with you. And thanks to Stephen’s sister Angie King Keesee for making the connection.

Numerous women texted and emailed words of encouragement during my trek. Thanks to Mary Giese, Linda Washington, Nancy Teixeira, Lisa Kennedy, and especially Laurence King, whose messages often found me at my worst moments.

Randy Fought at Natchez Trace Travel, thank you for your patience with numerous questions and last-minute changes. I never could’ve planned accommodations on my own. You took care of everything. Whenever I need a place to stay on the Natchez Trace, I won’t look anywhere else.

Trace innkeepers were my salvation. You washed clothes, accommodated Dad’s food requests, ran errands and saw to our every need. Here’s to a stellar group of people: Ethel Banta at Hope Farm in Natchez, Mississippi; Bobbye and Phil Pinnix at Isabella Bed and Breakfast in Port Gibson, Mississippi; Brenda and Charles Davis at Mamie’s Cottage in Raymond, Mississippi; Larry Routt at Maple Terrace Inn in Kosciusko, Mississippi; Summer Poche at French Camp Bed and Breakfast in French Camp, Mississippi; Carol Koutroulis at Bridges Hall Manor in Houston, Mississippi; Pat and Ron Deaton at Belmont Hotel in Belmont, Mississippi; Linda and David Rochelle at Coast to Coast Store in Collinwood, Tennessee; Donna Branch at Buffalo River Farm Bed and Breakfast in Summertown, Tennessee; and Misty Montgomery at Creekview Farm Bed and Breakfast in Fly, Tennessee. If any reader would like to replicate our journey, our rooms are listed in the appendix.

Culinary surprises were among the biggest delights of my walk. Because I couldn’t mention them all in the book, I share them here. I ended my first day at The Malt Shop in Natchez, Mississippi with the best chocolate malt I’ve ever had. Mister D at Old Country Store in Lorman, Mississippi, you really do make heavenly fried chicken, and you sing like a dream. Mary Bell and the crew at Gibbes Old Country Store in Learned, Mississippi, I still drool when I think of your steaks, and your Comeback sauce was the best of the trip. After Dad grumbled about eating at the Mayflower Cafe in Jackson, Mississippi, I couldn’t drag him out. The folks at the Council House Cafe in French Camp, Mississippi fed me several sandwiches, and their Mississippi Mud Pie was heaven. Costa Oaxaquena in Belmont, Mississippi, your shrimp quesadillas were addictive pillows of goodness. Red Bay, Alabama’s Cardinal Drive-in supplied my birthday milkshake. For three days, we ate every meal at Chad’s Family Restaurant in Collinwood, Tennessee. I was willing to make the drive to Mt Pleasant Grille in Mt Pleasant, Tennessee again and again. Finally, thanks to Nashville’s City House for introducing us to Paul, our server with Lewis and Clark tattoos, a gift that made our celebration meal surreal.

Thanks to everyone who gave me song ideas, especially Dina Honour (Walkin’ After Midnight), Beth Kennedy (Learning to Fly), Kate Pitt (Holiday Road), Lou Mello (Walk On By), Lisa Kramer (I’m Gonna Be and A Million Miles Away), Rob Ross (Personal Jesus), Andrea Boccucci (Walk), Robert S Johnson (Cross Road Blues and Road to Nowhere), Kirsten Piccini (Love Walks In), Linda Washington (I Walk the Line), Penny O’Neill (Hit the Road Jack), Kenneth Andrews (Go Walking Down There), Alice Guess (Walking to You), Nancy Teixeira (These Boots Were Made for Walkin’), Debbie Hennessy (Walking on Broken Glass), Cheryl Smithem (Roam), Debra Fetterly (Walk on the Wild Side), Helena Hann-Basquiat (Walk Like an Egyptian) and Lisa Spiral Besnett (Walking on Sunshine).

To the women and men who work for the National Park Service and the National Forest Service, you are unsung heroes. Thank you for everything you do to protect our assets, often with very limited means. Your sacrifices are not celebrated enough.

Thanks to the people at the
Kosciusko Star-Herald
, Nashville’s News Channel 4,
The Tennessean
and
The Post and Courier
for covering parts of my walk.

Amber Deutsch, you continue to make my books better by reading them first. Your tireless commentary and quirky insights are priceless, as is your friendship.

Rowe Copeland, your edits made
Not Without My Father
readable. Thank you.

Two authors deserve thanks for inspiring my walk of the Natchez Trace. Keel Hunt’s book
Coup: The Day the Democrats Ousted Their Governor, Put Republican Lamar Alexander in Office Early, and Stopped a Pardon Scandal
gave me the idea to walk the Trace. James Crutchfield’s
Natchez Trace: A Pictorial History
was a valuable planning tool.

Tamie and Sam Herin, thank you for loaning me your house in Montreat, North Carolina. Every version of this book was written on Mississippi Road, an irony that isn’t lost on me. Be Still is a place of perfect peace.

Ed Smith, thank you for giving us a place to sleep on yet another Trace visit.

Ruth Sykora and Stephen Khouri, you massaged and adjusted my middle-aged body into a machine. Thank you for your touch.

Joyce Maher, you know what you did. Thank you for being the world’s best mother-in-law.

Thanks to the team at Nashville’s Parnassus Books for hosting a nobody-writer’s first book signing and end-of-walk party. You are a gem of an independent bookstore.

Jeffrey Nelson, thank you for having your daughter Tori. I wish I could’ve met you.

My mother, Linda Watkins, gave me three weeks of her life and probably felt like she was minding a four-year-old again. Thanks, Mom, for everything you did to feed, clothe, bathe, and generally comfort your crazy daughter. I love you.

Without my father, Roy Lee Watkins Junior, this book wouldn’t be possible. Dad, you pushed yourself through whatever the Trace gave you, and you spread your unique brand of joy over three states. Thank you for saying yes to an adventure with me. Thank you for everything you did to make it memorable. Thank you for being the best book salesman of all time. But mostly, thank you for being my father. You are a gift to me. Every day. I love you.

To readers everywhere, thank you for choosing this book. If you’ve read this far, you’re a diehard. We writers cannot create without people like you. In a world bursting with options, thank you for honoring me with your time.

SUPPORT THE TRACE

Want to know the best way to support the Natchez Trace Parkway?

Visit!

Plan a Trace vacation and explore a tunnel through Time. More visitors mean more voices. You can force our legislators to provide more money to maintain the Parkway.

Randy Fought at Natchez Trace Travel can plan a trip to suit any interest. Contact him at natcheztracetravel.com/

Want to sleep where we did? Here’s a cheat sheet of the rooms we occupied along the Trace.

• Hope Farm in Natchez, MS - Plantation Room
  
• Isabella Bed and Breakfast in Port Gibson, MS - Lucille’s Room in the main house (the room I wanted, not the one Dad picked elsewhere)
  
• Mamie’s Cottage Bed and Breakfast at the Dupree House in Raymond, MS - Pattie Dupree Suite
  
• Maple Terrace Inn in Kosciusko, MS - Silkwood and Mahogany Rooms
  
• French Camp Bed and Breakfast in French Camp, MS - B&B Junior Cabin
  
• Bridges Hall Manor in Houston, MS - Room 4
  
• Belmont Hotel in Belmont, MS - Rooms 7 and 9
  
• Coast to Coast Store in Collinwood, TN - Room 2
  
• Buffalo River Farm and Studio Bed and Breakfast in Summertown, TN - Robert E Lee and Abraham Lincoln Rooms
  
• Creekview Farm Retreat Bed and Breakfast in Fly, TN - both upstairs bedrooms
  

Because of continued cuts in government funding, the Natchez Trace Parkway increasingly relies upon donations to fund its dwindling budget. You can help preserve a 10,000-year-old treasure. Your contributions could provide much-needed restroom facilities, refurbished parking areas, increased staffing for road maintenance and trash removal, more ranger patrols, and replacement signage, not to mention better facilities for the thousands of people who bicycle the Trace each year.

Help the Trace retain its magic. To support the Natchez Trace Parkway, go to: http://www.nps.gov/natr/supportyourpark/donate.htm

I have.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andra Watkins lives in Charleston, South Carolina with her husband, Michael T Maher. A non-practicing CPA, she has a degree in accounting from Francis Marion University. She’s still mad at her mother for refusing to let her major in musical theater, because her mom was convinced she’d end up starring in porn films. Her acclaimed first novel To Live Forever: An Afterlife Journey of Meriwether Lewis was published by Word Hermit Press on March 1, 2014. Read more about Andra at andrawatkins.com.

Andra’s upcoming novels include
Hard To Die
, to be published in Spring 2015;
Your True Love Lives
, to be published in Summer 2015; and
I Am Number 13
, to be published in Fall 2015.

Natchez Trace: Tracks in Time
is a book of photographs taken by Andra on her 444-mile walk. It is a companion volume to
Not Without My Father,
and is available in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and everywhere books are sold.

TO LIVE FOREVER:

AN AFTERLIFE JOURNEY OF MERIWETHER LEWIS

(The novel that launched a 444-Mile Hike)

EMMALINE

A
New Orleans Courtroom

Thursday

March 24, 1977

A drop of sweat hung from the end of my nose. I watched it build, cross-eyed, before I shook my head and made it fall. It left wet circles on the front of my dress.

“Emmaline. Be still, Child.” Aunt Bertie fanned her face and neck with a paper fan, the one with the popsicle stick handle.

A popsicle would be so good.

The waiting room of the court in New Orleans was full. People were everywhere I looked.

Reporters in stripey suits talked with some of Daddy’s musician friends. I loved to watch their fingers play imaginary guitars or pound out chords on their legs. Once or twice, Daddy’s band members came over to squeeze my arm or pat my head. “In spite of what they’s saying in that courtroom, we all love your daddy, Kid.”

Everybody loved Daddy. Well, everybody except Mommy.

My nose burned when I breathed, because the whole room stank like sweaty feet. My face was steamy when I touched it, and my lace tights scratched when I kicked my legs to push along the wooden bench. I left a puddle when I moved.

I snuggled closer to the dark folds and softness of Aunt Bertie. She turned her black eyes down at me and sighed before pushing me away with her dimpled hand. “Too hot, Child. When this is done, I’ll hold you as long as you want.”

I slid back to my wet spot on the bench. The wood made a hard pillow when I leaned my head against it and closed my eyes. Wishes still worked for nine-year-old girls, didn’t they?

I thought and thought. If I wanted it enough, maybe I could shrink myself smaller. It was hard to be outside the courtroom, imagining what was going on inside. Behind the heavy doors, Mommy and Daddy probably shouted mean things at each other, like they used to at home. Both of them said they wanted me, if they had to fight until they were dead.

I watched Mommy’s lady friends go into the courtroom: Miss Roberta in her drapey dress with flowers, Miss Chantelle all in white against the black of her skin, and Miss Emilie in a red skirt and coat that tied at her waist in a pretty bow. They all went in and came out, and they always looked at me. Miss Roberta even left a red lipstick kiss on my cheek, but I don’t like her, so I rubbed it off.

Aunt Bertie took her turn inside the courtroom, leaving me to sit with a reporter. He watched me from behind thick black glasses, and he asked me all kinds of questions about Daddy and Mommy. I didn’t understand much. I knew Daddy was famous, at least in New Orleans, but I didn’t understand what the word “allegations” meant.