Natchez, where nothing happened

Last year we saw Vicksburg with its impressive Civil War battlefield and tons of history so this year we went downriver to Natchez, Mississippi where absolutely nothing happened.

Largely it's a town built on the banks of the Mississippi across the river from Louisiana. A town that has restored its in-town mansions and lavish country plantation homes that were built and maintained by thousands of slaves in the antebellum days of King Cotton. "Antebellum", by the way, means "before the war". Teabaggers,  look it up in something called a "dictionary".

That's the mighty Mississipp with a historic riverboat. Whoa. Hold that. Not a riverboat at all, but a...

...casino. Of course.  The riverboat casinos seem to be the centerpiece of Natchez and you'll see as many signs pointing you in their direction as you will any other attractions in this town. And in the casinos you will largely find people who can barely pay their rent if they even have a place to live.  They are spending much if not all of their income sitting at the slots and smoking cigarettes.

When the economy in the U.S. was better, casinos were a fun place to go for a couple of hours of entertainment and people-watching. Now they seem like place of desperation. Lord knows we've dropped more than small change in a few of them from Atlantic City to Vegas so we're not putting down people's need for diversion and in our state, Arizona, there are as many smoke-filled casinos as there are WalMarts. Actually, there are probably more casinos. People aren't in there for a good time. They're in there hoping to win big. And they rarely, if ever, do.

That reminds me. I have to check my Powerball tickets.

Here's one of them in-town mansions, built by slaves and now part of the city's driving tour as you slowly make your way down to the casino.

Natchez, however, was the western terminus of the Natchez Trace, a well-defined and well-traveled trail that was used by migratory animals, Indians, and by pioneers heading west. Settlers would hit the river then be taken over to Louisiana by flatboat. After they hit the casino.

At the edge of the so-called historic district is what else? The historic city cemetery. Supposedly several people of note are buried here but we couldn't find a damn piece of information that would show us where.

The most interesting part of the cemetery is where the Civil War confederate unknowns are buried. A simple headstone and Confederate flag mark each of the graves. In short, while we are glad we visited Natchez (wasn't exactly on our bucket list), if you have a choice between Vicksburg and Natchez, go to Vicksburg where a hell of lot did happen during the Civil War. Its historic sites far exceed the lure of the casinos.

Paul indulged my need, however, to visit one of the local plantation homes called "Longwood". He had seen it before on one of his TV assignments and thought it the best of the bunch in Natchez. He and Daisy stayed in the truck with the air-conditioner on and out of reach of the mosquitoes while I went on a guided tour of Longwood. Cost me twelve big ones but I thought it was worth it.

Longwood was designed to be the largest octagonal house in the United States, if not the world. It was the property of a physician/cotton baron named Hallor (sp) Nutt and his wife Julia. The doctor gave his wife the house as a gift.  A thirty-thousand square foot gift.

Something like eight stories with the top dome acting as an observatory.

The only story completed was the basement. The war came. Money ran out. President Lincoln emancipated them damn slaves and there went the construction crew.

You think you have problems with contractors who don't show up. Think about these folks. 

Longwood looks just like it did when all the work stopped in the 1860s. All sorts of wood and implements have been left where they were abandoned, like this metal thing seen above. Actually, it's a lady's wash basin/bathtub.

After emancipation, this box arrived, addressed to the lady of the house. It's never been opened and is simply referred to as "the mystery box". Do I smell a TV story here? Where's Geraldo? Unlike Al Capone's vaults, we know there's something in this box.

The tour rules stated that visitors could not take photos of the finished portion of the house, the basement, where the family once lived, so we clicked away at all the unfinished portions.

This is our tour guide, the skinnier one. What? A skinny person in Mississippi? This state, by the way, has the nation's highest rate of obesity. Does this woman know she is bucking the trend? (She was actually a great, funny guide. Well-informed, animated, an articulate speaker.)

And if you've been faithfully following our blog, you read about us riding out the storm that ravaged upper Mississippi, Arkansas, Tennessee and Alabama. Well, here's where we rode it out at an RV park in Natchez. The park came recommended in an RV forum but was one of the most misrepresented places we have stayed.

It was more a broken-down trailer park than a welcoming RV park. It was right on a noisy highway.

The sign had fallen down so you couldn't even see where the hell the park was. We finally found it. Got set up. Turned on the water and the pipe burst. Then the electric sparked. Blew a fuse in the trailer. Moved to a different site. Survived the night. Toured Natchez the next day and then moved on. 

Empty pool next to rundown bathhouse.

Here's our advice for RVers headed for Natchez. Take the bridge just across the river and on the Louisiana side you'll find River View RV Park. In great shape with large, clean pull-through spaces. So that's enough of that. Don't suppose the Natchez Chamber of Commerce will invite us back for the annual thank you luncheon.

From Natchez, we move on to another of America's garden spots, Beaumont, Texas.