More on the Mandala

Shortly after I posted this blog entry last week, I wrote my mother and her three brothers with an assignment.  First, I asked for someone to produce the picture that I believe appeared in the Greenwood Commonwealth (newspaper) when they set off on their journey down the Yazoo and Mississippi rivers.  Second, I asked each to share a memory from the journey.  This sparked a trip down memory lane for the siblings and a string of emails which were more enjoyable for me to read than any I can remember in recent memory.  So good, in fact, that I decided to preserve them on here. 

First, the picture. 

Pictured from left to right:  Tim/Timmy/Timothy/Mito, Agoo/Virginia/Mama, my mom/Helen/Grano, Peter/Perte, John/Beaux/Uncle Bo, and Paw Paw/John.  What a handsome group! 

There are so many things I love about this picture. 

1. I love the hats, which my mother says were produced for photo purposes only and were not worn on the journey.  If you know my mother, you can see the hidden embarrassment on her face that she was subjected to wearing said hat in a picture for the entire town to see! 
2. I love how the 2 Johns look so interested in the chart/map.  They are very serious about planning the journey.
3. I love the look of love that is evident in my grandmother's face while she looks at her husband. 
4. I love how she is sitting there in the perfect southern lady pose.   If Agoo was anything, she was a perfect lady.  Right up until the moment she left this earth.
5. Let's talk about Peter.  Looking right at the camera, knowing he was about to be stuck on a boat for days on end..... His eyes are pleading, "PLEASE!  Won't you save me from this torture???"  I also love that he has on no shoes. 
6. I love the Yazoo River in the background.  Looks basically the same to this day.  Lots of memories for this family revolve around that river.
7. My mother's glasses.  Enough said.
8. I love how Agoo has one arm around each child sitting by her.  That's the kind of mother I imagine she was while they were growing up.  Always expressing her love for her children.
9. And finally, little Timothy.  How precious is he?!?!?  So cute and so mischievious all at the same time!  Can you believe they used to call him Fat Slob????? 

Ok.  On to the emails.  Here are the memories, cut and pasted in the order received.

Helen/Helon/Mom:
I think, definitely, the most memorable event was Mother allowing us to swim in the Mississippi after tying up on the bank at the end of a long, long day.  We were all so thrilled to be swimming.  When we got out, we had horse hairs (or some other unknown animal) all over us.  There was apparently a dead animal sunk in the water somewhere.  Mother was horrified.  It’s a wonder we didn’t all get some horrible disease.  You have to know that the MS River was the dirtiest water around, other than the Yazoo.



John/Beaux:
My most detailed memory occurred in Vicksburg as the Mandala was tied up to the Sprague, a 300' retired steamboat that had been turned into a tourist attraction and museum. We were waiting until Paw could get the Mandala over to a crane in the boatyards to step the mast, which had ridden lashed to the deck from River Road to Vicksburg. This was so we could pass under the bridges over the Yazoo River along our route. 
To pass some time the siblings and I played hide and seek on the deck of the Sprague in the hot afternoon summer sun. I stuck my head in a large metal wind scoop protruding from the deck and was stung inside my right ear by wasp. I had a severe allergic reaction and the right side of my head and ear swoll grotesquely. i remember my ear was about an inch thick and was noticeably deformed.

There was an old time meldodrama called "Gold in them Hills" held on the Sprague that night and the whole family went. I remember being very self-conscious about my deformity..Members of the audience threw peanuts at the villain.

We headed south out onto the Mississippi River the next day and I remember being very sick and lying in a stupor in the sweltering cabin on a bunk. The wakes from the passing tugs and barges caused the Mandala to pitch and roll compounding my misery.  I was relieved to leave the boat with the family at the end of that leg and take the Greyhound bus back to Greenwood.
**Note:  There was a changing of the guard at Baton Rouge, where the family (minus Paw Paw) was replaced with new crew members.
 
 
 
Peter/Perte:
I agree - that was a peculiar, yet spectacular day. To expand on Helon's excellent recollection...


It was indeed a long day. If I remember correctly, it was 1 or 2 days after we left Vicksburg and the Sprague. The Mississippi, at its wider points, is a fairly boring place to be for an eight year old. In the middle of a 1 mile wide river, there is nothing much to see except the occasional tugboat-barge kicking up the big wake. Hanging over the bow for maximum wave effect, Tim and I each ate probably 8 lollipops from this enormous case of suckers that Peggy Montgomery thoughtfully placed on board for the voyage. Up until Mom gave us permission to go swimming, we (or at least I) had assumed we would not be going in to the river FOR ANY REASON, mostly because of the moccasin snakes we had seen earlier in the voyage on the Sunflower cut off between the Yazoo and the mighty Mississippi. I remember we anchored at the end of the day in fairly shallow water (maybe 6 feet - the Mandala drew 4 feet), on the west bank of the Mississippi, in a bend of the river that created a pond-like stillness and safety in which we could swim. It was close to sunset - one of those yellow-orange end-of-the-day funky mixings of nature that only happens in Mississippi during crop dusting time. I recall jumping in the water and sinking down feet first and grabbing two fist fulls of that cool, Mississippi River mud and surfacing with it. The question then became, what do you do with 2 fist fulls of Mississippi River mud? The answer was - throw it at Tim. Some of the mud hit Tim in the eye. He cried like a baby briefy, but got over it quickly when I suggested we throw some at Pot Britches (Helon), which we did. The desired effect of that was that Helon got pissed, and got out. There was a distinct fecund feel and smell to the water, but not really off-putting like dead animal. More like the fertile fields of the Delta times 100. Very Faulkner-esque. We swam until Mom made us get out, by way of a very awkward rope ladder Dad had fashioned, close to dark. I can't remember what we had for supper, but I think it was something unexpected - like maybe hamburgers (including home-made buns) that Mom had grilled in Greenwood and frozen before we left - does anyone remember? Also, I can't recollect how we bathed on that trip. There was a head, but no shower. Was there a bucket of fresh water and soap on the stern? I don't think Mom would have let us go to bed coated in animal hair. I know we brushed our teeth with Colgate. Tim and I bunked together in the bow. Can't remember where everyone else slept. Dad was very tired the next day, because he sat up most of the night in the cockpit watching the anchor. He let me steer a lot the next day - told me I was a good helmsman.
 
 
 
Tim/Timothy/Timmy/Fat Slob/Mito:
I am heartened by my brother's and sister's vivid recollection of the infamous maiden voyage of the Mandala. My recollections are less clear. Remember, I was five years old and had not yet written the letters "Mito." You could say that this was the pre-Mito era. This is what I think I remember - you know ideas can get put into your head from dinner table conversations over the years.


I hardly remember the launch but do remember the Mandala tied up there across from 709. Peter is correct - that rich smell of the river evokes much nostalgia and if you get too close to the Yazoo now a good wiff of it takes you back to those boat days and let's not forget those swings that the police kept shooting down.

On launch day, as I recall, Peggy Montgomery dropped a "gift" off of the hospital bridge as a farewell gesture. This gift was simply one freakin' mosquito net for your head and face (one, mind you - not six for the six campers/boaters) That net stayed around for years, though. The net missed the boat landing in the Yazoo and a perfect send-off was foiled. It was one thing turning the lunky Mandala downstream but quite another turning it upstream to retrieve the net. Nonetheless, the net was retrieved in the Yazoo current and I remember Captain John was not too happy as he did that rapid tongue movement thing on his upper lip with the knowledge that Peggy Montgomery had struck again.

I also remember the swims and Uncle Beaux's wasp-stung ear. It seems like in one of those river cove tie-ups that the propeller got tangled in a gill net and Uncle Beaux was chosen to dive and untangle the net from the propeller. He could hold his breath a really long time and I can well recall the fear that he would not come back up. I can't remember whether he had a safety cord tied to his waist or not - probably not. I think that our shift got off in Baton Rouge and was replaced by the Franklin crew and there are photos somewhere of Gene and Sidney and Pop and Daddy taking that shift. When Katrina struck, Dad and Wentris camped out here for awhile and I know that they had retrieved one small photo album which Leah re-made for them and I believe this is where the photos are. I'll ask Leah about this. Wentris has the album.

I also remember that the tootsie pops were something that were kept on the Mandala. Agoo never challenged this. Tootsie pops go well with boiled okra for breakfast.
 
 
 
Helen/Helon/Grano:
My brothers give a much more colorful account. Bravo. Of course, the "changing of the guard" in Baton Rouge is a story in itself, with Mother being left with 4 Mandala-weary children (remember how HUGE that hotel pool was?) and no means to pay for the hotel room! When she offered to write one of her Bank of Commerce checks, the manager opened a drawer and showed her all the bad checks. She then offered for him to call the President of the Bank.


"Little lady, how do I know you are giving me the true President?"

Now, this will take you back. "Just call the operator and ask her to give you the President."

WHICH HE DID! The operator gave him the name of the VICE PRESIDENT. "Call him," was Mother's plea.Vice President told the manager, "That young lady is on the river somewhere and you give her anything she needs."
 
 
 
I then asked the group a few questions, and my mother sent the responses below:
1.  Did the whole town show up for your send-off?  Kind of like a Carnival Cruise? 
RESPONSE:  I remember "hundreds" of folks standing on the levee, and then on the Hospital Bridge as we went under (see Tim's account of the mosquito net).
 
2.  Did mom and Agoo wear their sailor's hats the entire trip?
RESPONSE:  No, that was Agoo's "take a picture" moment.....i remember hating having to wear that hat.
 
3.  What did you eat?
RESPONSE:  Lots of oatmeal, as I recall and those darn suckers. I remember the ice box had a 50# block of ice in it, and we would have to get a replacement periodically and were always running out of milk.
 
4.  What on earth did you do on that boat all day long?
RESPONSE:  I was the "keeper of the log," and wrote down every dad gum name of the tugs that went by....and there were about a hundred.  I wish I still had that log.  I think it went the way of lots of pawpaw treasures with Katrina.  Other that that, we took turns at the helm, rode on the bow alot, tried to avoid each other as much as possible.  I think we had some games, like dominoes.
 
5.  How many times was "liarliardevildevilstinkerstinker" uttered on this trip?
RESPONSE:  Only when pawpaw wasn't around.
 
Peter says that they aren't through recollecting yet, so maybe there will be more stories to add in another post.  But for now, many thanks to all the Alford siblings for a job well done!  And three cheers for Paw Paw and his legendary Mandala!