Willie Mae

Have a seat, this is a meandering post. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.

So, yesterday, Frenchie sent me a link to Joe York's documentary short, When We Were Extras, a twenty-one-minute short about the making of Intruder in the Dust in Mississippi. The movie premiered at the old Lyric theatre in Oxford, and York made the doc to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the premiere. Plus, there was a big to-do in Oxford for the anniversary in the now-renovated Lyric.

But that's not why Frenchie sent me the link or what this post is about. The reason Frenchie sent me the link is too complicated to explain, so I am not ever going to bother. And this post is about Willie Mae's Scotch House, not Intruder in the Dust or anything else William Faulkner. Although, when I watched When We Were Extras, I enjoyed the description of Faulkner's attitude about attending the premier, and how his (great?) aunt guilted him into attending the premiere by telling him she had waited a long time to be proud of him. From what little I know of Faulkner and his attitude towards Oxford and Oxford's attitude toward him... this seemed about right.

Anyway, I've seen a few other things Joe York has done (although I have avoided Whole Hog, I just can't handle that), but I never got around to seeing Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House. Willie Mae's is a local restaurant in New Orleans, and like lots of New Orleans, it was damaged almost past repair during Hurricane Katrina. York's Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House is about just that--the saving of Willie Mae's. I'm not going to go into details about the whole thing and what happened, because you really should watch the documentary.

Saving Willie Mae's was shown at the Oxford Film Festival (2007, I think). I missed it. I remember walking into the theatre after the film had started. The theatre was overflowing with people. People were standing in the entry and sitting on the floor--it was pretty much a big fire hazard. I turned around and walked out. It was just too many people for me. Plus.... I was friends with the co-director--I figured I could see the Saving Willie Mae's later. But, still, I never got around to it.

I finally watched it tonight, and I'm sorry I waited so long. About thirty seconds into the film, I started to cry. And I never really stopped. It's touching. Really, really touching. Seeing people come together. Seeing people work for nothing more than to help someone.

I lived in Mississippi when Katrina came through. I lived in the part of the state that wasn't affected by anything more than some minor inconveniences. During Katrina, I lost my power and it was out for about 24-hours. The combination of wind and water shorted out half my kitchen (long story) for several days (I had friends in town who had more problems than me). All phone reception was spotty for weeks after the storm. And, really, our town was affected more by the influx of evacuees than the storm itself. For several weeks after Katrina, it took fifteen minutes to drive less than a mile, there were so many people in town. It was like a football Saturday every day. But, anything we had to deal with was minuscule compared to those south of us.

I, along with everyone else in town, knew people who lost something due to Katrina. I went to the Mississippi Coast a few months after the storm to help a local children's museum clean up and rebuild. We spent one day picking up debris and fixing a few things (I helped clean up; I wanted to use some sort of power tool, but I'm so clumsy I would've done more damage than good.) We also spent a couple of hours wandering around the neighborhood, looking at cement slabs that used to be businesses, apartment houses, day care centers, and homes. It's hard to see that up close and not take it to heart and to not be touched by every single person who had to rebuild.

Foundations of what used to be businesses

What used to be townhouses. This whole row of townhouses was picked up by the storm surge and moved off its foundation.

A close-up of the townhouses

What is left of a preschool in Gulfport, MS (All of these photos are from Gulfport)

So, sitting here, 2600 miles from Mississippi, five years after Hurricane Katrina and a few months after the beginning of BP's fuck uppery in the Gulf of Mexico, watching Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House reminded me how far the Gulf Coast and New Orleans have come--and how far they have to go.

Sometimes I have wondered if leaving Mississippi was a mistake. Two years after I left I know that it wasn't. After a lot of ups and downs I am happy where I am. But, Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House reminded me of what makes Mississippi, and the deep south in general, special.

Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House from Joe York on Vimeo.

On an unrelated note: I am happy to say that I understood everything everybody said in Saving Willie Mae's. Six-and-a-half years ago when I moved to Mississippi, I was such a Yankee, I would have struggled to understand about half of what was said. To say I had problems understanding Southern accents is an understatement.