Make Yourself at Home

Exploring the most Victorian town in Mississippi

by

“Get comfortable, make yourself totally at home, like you’re in your own house,” invited the woman standing behind the breakfast bar, as she cleaned out a coffee mug.

“She really means it,” another woman walking out the door called back at us, a pastry in hand.

It was about 7:45 in the morning at the Inn on Whitworth, in the heart of Brookhaven’s downtown district. My husband Julien and I had just emerged from our suite in the far corner of the building—a cozy oasis with a sitting area, false fireplace, high ceilings, and possibly the biggest bathtub I’d ever seen. Details like local artwork and candles (and a lighter), plus the full slate of streaming options, added to the aura of “escape”.

The boutique hotel, which officially took up residence inside the circa-1895 Cohn Brothers Mercantile Store in 2011, uses its history to its benefit: the heart pine floorboards, taken from the old ceiling beams, shine warmly; the skylight at the center of the lobby fills the space with sun, placing especial focus on a centipede-like, fibrous, hanging sculpture by local artist Ed Williford. Right outside our bedroom, we stop to examine the massive door of the store’s original walk-in vault. Against these tributes to its past, the hotel gleams with a polished modern style, accented by original artwork by another local artist—who is also responsible for the stunning interior design—local Brookhaven doctor, Kim Sessums.

We hadn’t originally intended to eat breakfast at the hotel, but started to rearrange those plans as early as our arrival the previous afternoon—when we’d stepped inside and found a glazed lemon pound cake and snickerdoodles awaiting on the bar, along with a fridge fully stocked with waters and sodas. “Let’s just check out the spread before we decide,” we’d agreed, our mouths full of rich, lemony fluff.

The woman, whose name we learned later is Sylvia, was now smiling behind a tableau of homemade quiche, fresh fruit, sausage, raisin toast, blueberry muffins, and yogurt with all of its tastiest accoutrements. A selection of teas and hot coffee called, as well as a pitcher of fresh orange juice.

As we tucked in, Sylvia told us that she grew up in the kind of house where people would just stop on by anytime, and that she’s been feeding “anyone and everyone who comes in” for as long as she can remember. This is her retirement gig, she beamed. She walks on over every morning from her apartment at the old Hotel Inez across the railroad, the first brick building built in Brookhaven, back in 1865. Once a popular stopover for railway travelers, that hotel has now been renovated into apartments—though the lobby is still styled in the old way of such fashionable places: tiny-tiled floors and antique furniture, huge gold framed artwork, and a glass office for the hotel manager. She whispered the doorcode to us, and suggested we poke our heads inside as we went about exploring the town.

We’d done a little exploring already, starting out at Magnolia Blues BBQ around the corner the previous evening. Just in time for happy hour, we’d settled in front of the empty stage—a rare occurrence, we learned from some of the locals. Usually, the place is characterized by its almost nightly slate of local and traveling live music performances. Rustic but spacious, with neon beer logos and an arrangement of vintage-style signs on the wall shouting messages the likes of “Free Beer! Tomorrow,” “I like pig butts and I cannot lie,” and “Sin … a little bit”—the place felt like Mississippi at its homiest, a group of locals laughing at the bar and some game or another on the big screens. Taking heed, we sipped on discounted Woodford Reserve and placed an order for the very first thing on the menu: BBQ Nachos. We still had about an hour and a half until our dinner reservation, anyway. When the massive plate came out, it was heavy with pulled pork debris perfectly embedded in caramelized onions, candied jalapeños, and drenched in a milky white queso. Welcome to Brookhaven.

Settled across the Homochitto National Forest from Natchez, and just south of Jackson on I-55 along the Bogue Chitto River, “Ole Brook” is only a two-and-a-half-hour drive from our home in Lafayette, but its rolling hills and dales, broken up by longleaf pine forests, offer an altogether different vision of the South.

Rustic but spacious, with neon beer logos and an arrangement of vintage-style signs on the wall shouting messages the likes of “Free Beer! Tomorrow,” “I like pig butts and I cannot lie,” and “Sin … a little bit”—the place felt like Mississippi at its homiest, a group of locals laughing at the bar and some game or another on the big screens

Originally occupied by the Choctaw Nation, the first Native tribe to be removed and sent West by the European settlers developing the new country of America, the Brookhaven territory became part of the United States in 1805 and was officially founded by Samuel Jayne in 1818 as a trading post and post office. Over the course of the 19th century, the city grew into a major railroad town, one of the stops along the Great Northern Railroad Company’s journey from New Orleans to Jackson, Tennessee. The railroad heralded the city’s evolution into a timber town, a cotton town, and a college town. Remnants of these industries remain today—family farms still operate on the outskirts, as do a handful of sawmills. And travelers making their way from New Orleans to Chicago, vice versa, or anywhere in between will likely pass right through Ole Brook.

Stepping onto the twilight-lit streets of the city’s downtown district—which has blossomed with various revitalization projects over the last decade—Julien and I kept our gaze upward, studying the fascinating collection of historic warehouses and office buildings, a continuous string of lights connecting one to the next. At the center of everything was the iconic electric Brookhaven sign, announcing the town’s slogan, “A HOME SEEKERS PARADISE”. The name, according to old newspaper articles, was the result of a contest held by local merchants back in 1915. For the prize-winning submission, Brookhaven resident Milton Cohen was awarded $5. The electric sign was created some months later, and officially illuminated on the very same night that the Liberty Bell made a visit to Brookhaven, passing on the train on its way back to Philadelphia after a stint at the San Fransisco World’s Fair. The community was all about the streets that night, admiring the new sign, then turning around to observe the Bell. The original “Home Seekers” sign would ultimately be repurposed for scrap metal during World War II, then reconstructed and assembled years later.

[Read another Mississippi road trip story from our April 2023 issue, about traversing the Delta, in this story by Charlotte Jones with poetry by Marshall Blevins.]

On this evening, almost everything was closed, but it was clear that most of the buildings were gainfully occupied by various retail businesses. We came across half a dozen barber shops alone. Sylvia would later tell us that most of the business owners actually live in apartments above their businesses, creating a close-knit merchants’ community in Brookhaven’s downtown district.

For dinner, we stepped into Betty’s Eat Shop, one of the few truly upscale eateries in a town simmering with delicious barbecue and innovative grab-and-go outlets. Open since 2016, Matt Fitzsimmon’s Italian-influenced Southern dining experience is sleek, with an open-kitchen concept centered by a wood-burning brick fireplace. Sitting deep in a booth, we placed drink orders—another whiskey for him, martini for me. Julien ordered the Shrimp Risotto, which offered a salty and mouth-watering combination of sausage, shrimp, mushrooms, and onions. Per our waitress’s recommendation, I passed on the spaghetti and went for the lemon pepper half chicken—and was not disappointed. With a tart lemony savoriness perfectly distributed into every bite, the chicken was expertly prepared and well-paired with creamy mashed potatoes. We boxed up our leftovers and headed out for a night cap at Georgia Blue just down the street, where Jackson singer/songwriter Aaron Coker sat on a stool and sang the blues.

The next day, after our hearty breakfast at the Inn, we set out to explore South Jackson Street—Brookhaven’s “Olde Towne” historic district. We’d peeked at it the day before, stopping before our check-in at the Inn to explore Brookhaven’s famed Butterfield Mansion a few streets over. The Greek Revival showstopper was once the largest private residence in town, built by lumber baron Charles Butterfield for his wife Vivienne in 1911. Thanks to a life-saving renovation by Jeff and Stacie Cross in 2017, the iconic building lives on as a wedding and events venue. Stepping inside, just beyond its epic columns, a staircase styled after an ocean liner draws the eye—inviting phantoms of parties-past to fill the empty entertaining space, with its inlaid mahogany floors and marble Italianate statues. After the Butterfields, Dr. Harry Hannon resided here for years—a man described as an “Indian Doctor” or “psychic surgeon” who would move his patients into the mansion with him for treatment. The next-to-last owner was David Lovell, a Brookhaven designer and artist who oversaw considerable renovations and hosted many of the town’s weddings and parties during his fifty years at the mansion, which he then called Edgewood.

Setting out down the sidewalk on South Jackson Street, coffee in hand, we entered the Brookhaven stretch known colloquially as the “Most Victorian Street in Mississippi”. Populated by one majestic historic home after another—mostly built between the years 1861 and 1934—the Olde Towne neighborhood was purportedly designed to imitate New Orleans’s Garden District. The houses all have names, usually serving as architectural memorials to their original owners—the John B. Perkins House, the Mills House, the Nalty-Rushing House. Four of these homes were built by Brookhaven lumber baron Captain A. E. Moreton—documented as the area’s “first industrialist”—for himself and his children. At the end of the street is the famed Hardy House on Natchez Avenue; a standout even in this neighborhood, the 1877 mansion was built by Captain Jack C. Hardy, who was once one of Mississippi’s wealthiest men. We leisurely made our way back to the car, admiring the grandeur and artistry of homes articulating Victorian style, Queen Anne Style, Adams Style, Italianate Style—their beauty enhanced by the flush height of azalea season.

Our next stop was just outside of the town proper, in the rural area occupied mostly by sloping cattle fields, big skies, and dozens of Baptist churches. Tucked discreetly in between all of this is something revolutionary, a barely discernible disruption in the pattern: a couple dozen acres of tea plants, visible from East Lincoln Road. Timmy Gibson, who founded the Great Mississippi Tea Company with his partner Jason McDonald back in 2011, met us near the nursery, and told us his story.

Set to inherit McDonald’s family’s timber farm, but with little interest in timber or the regional alternative—cattle—the couple set out to find another way to use the property. On a trip to South Carolina, by chance they visited the Charleston Tea Plantation, and learned that the tea plant is actually in the same family as the camellia—a plant that loves Mississippi as much as Missisippi loves it. They got home, ordered a couple tea plants, and put them in the ground. Then, they waited. “Our thought was that if any of them survived, then maybe we had something here.”

[Read Jordan LaHaye Fontenot's story about her 24-hour trip to Abita Springs here.]

A little over a decade later, after conquering a steep learning curve with intentionality and plenty of trial and error, the Great Mississippi Tea Company today produces hundreds of pounds of black, green, oolong, and even yellow tea per year. They are the only tea farm in Mississippi and one of the pioneers in the emerging tea industry in North America. During our tour, Gibson thoughtfully walked us through the process of seeding, planting, and harvesting—explaining with an educator’s skill how the different varieties of tea actually all come from this same plant, but are harvested in different combinations of the shrub’s topmost leaves and buds: two leaves and a bud makes green tea, three leaves and a bud for black tea, and for oolong you harvest as many as six leaves and a bud. Such particularities required hand harvesting in the beginning, though now the Great Mississippi Tea Company has partnered with Williames Tea Company in Australia to field test a revolutionary Selective Tea Harvester.

Gibson then directed us to drive across the street to the processing plant, or “The Tea Shack”—a tiny, brightly-painted building across from his and McDonald’s home that is one of the only USDA-certified tea processing plants in the country. This is where the tea leaves are dried, spinned, rolled, oxidized, steamed, and set to undergo various other intricate processes—conducted using a combination of specialized tea-making equipment from China and mock-ups fashioned by McDonald and Gibson.

Our tour ended in a backroom in the couple’s home, accompanied by two of their half-dozen rescue dogs, where we got the chance to peruse the Great Mississippi Tea Company’s extensive line of products. These include everything from their version of Earl Grey (“Colonel Grey”) and chai (“Clairee’s Chai” named after one of the pups) to things like Cold Grilled Southern Peach Tea and Mississippi Mud Tea. There were the culinary teas, accompanied by a cookbook. There were tea soaps, tea t-shirts, and tea candles—as well as a selection of honey products from the pollinators farmed onsite. We left with a Delta 8-infused Sleepy oolong and a package of Mississippi Sunshine Yellow Tea—one of the rarest teas in the world, which Gibson explained tastes totally different for each person who sips it, the subtly sweet flavors informed by each individual’s particular histories and memories.

Upon our return downtown, we headed straight to a destination at the top of most Brookhaven itineraries: Janie’s Pastry Shop. The charming vintage-style bakery has been a staple in Ole Brook since 1939. Inside, visitors are intoxicated by the sugary perfume wafting throughout the tiny space, decked out in 1950s-style Coca-Cola branded tables and stools, the walls chock full of posters and memorabilia, including a display of dozens of Clabber Girl Baking Powder cans that look older than me. The display case shone with luscious cream-stuffed and sugar-sprinkled donuts, eclairs, and cake; a rainbow of macarons; and a whole case of cookies cheaper than the glass bottles of Coca-Cola in their fridge. We bought a dozen, plus each a cream-cheese drizzled pastry, before making our way to the recently-opened Wild Fox Coffee Shop down the street, which is housed in a charming renovated historic home that doubles as the Dog Ear Bookstore. We took a load off in the large sunroom, which was sparsely but tastefully outfitted in mid-century modern seating and centered by a crystal chandelier. On one wall was a clock built entirely of books, and on the others various “fox”-themed artwork. The menu offered a selection of artisan coffees from Mississippi-based coffee company Thunderhead. I opted for “The Fantastic Fox”—an iced maple, brown sugar, and cinnamon concoction, while Julien sipped on the electric pink “Red Fox”—a Lotus Energy Drink made special with notes of strawberry, pomegranate, and red raspberry.

The charming vintage-style bakery has been a staple in Ole Brook since 1939. Inside, visitors are intoxicated by the sugary perfume wafting throughout the tiny space, decked out in 1950s-style Coca-Cola branded tables and stools, the walls chock full of posters and memorabilia, including a display of dozens of Clabber Girl Baking Powder cans that look older than me.

We then set out to explore the daytime downtown landscape—which includes some thirty-plus locally-owned retail shops. We popped our heads into The Well-Dressed Man—with its line of specialty menswear; then Castles, a massive floorspace with a vast range of high-end women’s brands I’d never heard of before; and into J. Allan’s Furniture—where we ogled the leather sectional at the store’s center. My biggest find, though, came from St. Andrew’s Thrift Store, just down the sidewalk from the Inez, where I scored a set of green depression glass canisters for under $10.

Before heading to lunch, we embarked on a stroll through the Mississippi School of the Arts (MSA) campus, which serves creatively-inclined high school students through advanced programs in visual arts, music, theatre, and literature. Before MSA occupied the campus in 2003, the property was previously home to an evening school for World War II veterans, a Civil War Confederate hospital, and—in 1858—Whitworth College, a four-year Methodist school for women. Many of the college’s original historic buildings still populate the campus, designating it as a Mississippi Landmark and on the National Register of Historic Places. There’s the 1883 Johnson Institute, which once housed the college’s library, the 1913 Elizabeth Cottage where Whitworth President Dr. Inman William Cooper resided; and the old dormitories, built in 1920 and called Enochs Hall—which is now used by MSA for classrooms, workshops, a black box theater, and an exhibition/gathering space.

We concluded our time in Brookhaven by stepping outside the sparkle of downtown to further investigate some of the mom-and-pop-looking restaurants we’d seen driving around the day before. We landed on soul food at Mama Ruby’s, whose owners Jeff and Veletta Newton opened up just days before the COVID-19 shutdown in 2020. Two years later, they’re still going strong—serving up a bounty of home-style indulgence at their lunch buffet. I eyed the pan labeled “junk pot,” overflowing with giant shrimp and sausage. The man in front of me in line ordered a weighty plate of gumbo, jambalaya, and bread pudding to boot. I opted for the fried catfish special, and Julien went the way of the hamburger advertised on their front window. Served in a Styrofoam box, this is no frills, dang good food, a fitting farewell to this special little town—a “Home Seeker’s Paradise”.

visitbrookhavenms.com

Disclaimer: This trip was hosted in part by the Inn on Whitworth and Visit Brookhaven, though the opinions of the writer are entirely her own.