What Would Welty Do?

In the Preface of The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty, the renowned Mississippi author writes of her stories: “They were part of living [in Jackson], of my long familiarity with the thoughts and feelings of those around me, in their many shadings and variations and contradictions.” 

It was only fitting that my first act upon arriving in Welty’s hometown was to purchase her collection at her old favorite bookstore, Lemuria Books. Her words, a constant companion on my trip, served as a guide to the city, urging me to listen for the stories around me with the eavesdropping talent that colored Welty’s masterpieces. 

Lemuria Books

Lemuria itself, celebrating fifty years in 2025, is a fitting place to begin a tour of Jackson. The bookstore is a legend in the South, a literary home for many of the region’s most esteemed writers, from Barry Hannah to John Grisham, Greg Iles, and Jesmyn Ward. And, of course, Jackson’s own Welty.  

To get to Lemuria, you must first walk through its neighbor on the first floor of Banner Hall, Broad Street Baking Company & Café (a pause for a scratch-made pastry and coffee is encouraged). Walking through, I also noticed an empty space filled with boxes—which I’d later learn to be the future Levure Bottle Shop, a natural wine project from the folks at Elvie’s Restaurant. 

[Read our article about Elvie's Restaurant from the October 2023 isue.] 

Elvie’s reputation had preceded my visit. Opened in pre-pandemic 2020, Jackson-native Chef Hunter Evans’ French-inspired, sustainability-focused café named after his grandmother was quick to gain national attention and upped the ante for Jackson’s restaurant scene, which has since exploded with a truly exciting collective of award-winning, chef-forward concepts across the capital city. I’d be visiting Elvie’s later on, but was even more curious about the new restaurants that have emerged from the wave of creative culinary momentum post-2020. And here was Levure, with Evans’ literal fingerprints on the bottles.  

Back to Lemuria, up the stairs at Banner Hall—well, you can’t miss it. The entryway is iconic, a Hallmark-level charming red façade, through which the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves are already visible. Atop the front door is a custom sculpture of a hand holding up an open book—a sign of resistance from owner John Evans when he opened this location at the peak of the e-book craze. Inside, golden light plays upon wooden floors and absorbs into dark green leather couches, all snuggled in between overlapping walls of books, books, books—arranged to create corners and crannies, rooms within themselves. An illusion of chaos, actually carefully curated by subject matter. Mystery, music, Mississippi—an entire corner for it. Legacy is everywhere, with portraits of authors and an entire room dedicated to first editions. It’s a reader’s wonder, and I only wished I could have stayed longer. I left with my Welty, two signed editions for a loved one, and plans to return. lemuriabooks.com. 

Fairview Inn 

I was to spend my nights in Jackson at the Fairview Inn, a boutique hotel occupying a circa-1908 Colonial mansion built for a lumber baron and designed by Robert Closson Spencer, Jr.—an associate of Frank Lloyd Wright (though mid-century modern aesthetics are nowhere to be found at Fairview). There was a sense of stepping back in time, walking past the Corinthian columns to the front door. On the wide, ground-level front porch were sets of rocking chairs, where guests could contemplate Fairview Street before them. Around each corner of the house, obscured by the branches of some of the largest magnolias I’ve ever seen, I could see nooks of tables and chairs arranged for plein air dining or evening drinking amongst the grandeur and the greenery. I’d read that the Fairview was not only a popular overnight stay for visitors to Jackson but, with its restaurant and bar, a community hub. 

Inside, the lobby gives way to dining rooms and sitting rooms outfitted in crown moldings, giant chandeliers, and the magic of well-placed windows in the late afternoon. The front desk worker pointed me to my room, the Magnolia Room, on the second floor. The massive, dark-carpeted staircase effused somewhat stuffy old-world luxury, but when I entered my room at the end of the hallway, I was instantly dumbstruck by the airiness, the elegant comfort of the generous space—with its king-size wooden antique-looking bed, gorgeous wood floors that creaked just a little as I walked, and heavy curtains pulled back to reveal a bird’s-eye view of Fairview Street. There were not one, but two fireplaces—one in the bedroom, and one in a separate sitting room, where there was a writing desk in the corner I could as easily imagine Welty sitting at as Hemingway. The suite even included an entire second bedroom, with two queen-size beds, which I didn’t need but noted for future family/friend excursions.

Though I was tempted to revel in this fairytale space I’d call my own for the next few days, I was also curious about the rest of the property. Walking through the back gardens, I noted a fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs, gesturing toward late nights with new friends. Most magical, though, was the waist-high formal French-style maze garden, with all paths leading to a Greek statue of a woman at the center. fairviewinn.com.

Fondren Arts District 

Considered Jackson’s arts district, Fondren was once known as ‘Sylum Heights, a legacy leftover from the Mississippi Lunatic Asylum that operated here for years. Today, a combination of local investment through the circa-1980s Fondren Renaissance Foundation, Mississippi’s first urban Main Street program; the endurance of deeply beloved businesses that have survived the test of time; and a face lift from the 2011 filming of The Help have resulted in a nostalgic thread energizing the district with vintage cool. Almost every building boasts a stylish façade of architectural significance, and inside of them are eclectic family-owned businesses that serve a diverse and creatively-inclined community. 

At the center of it all is Campbell’s Bakery, pastel pink, where I popped in to indulge in a lemon bar. The circa-1962 bakery has held its own as a landmark in the modern age and was named one of the South’s top twenty best bakeries by Southern Living in 2022. Next door, The End of All Music provides the necessary access to vintage records that the stepping-back-in-time sensation of Fondren induces. From Chappell Roan vinyls, to Fleetwood Mac, to a bin labeled “Awesome Tapes from Africa”—the selection is diverse and extensive, packed into an intimate space crowded with music ephemera and art. 

Campbell’s and The End of All Music are both part of a collection of storefronts, built in 1939, along the neighborhood’s central artery, called Fondren Strip. In famed Mississippi photographer James Patterson’s former studio, which also holds histories as a drugstore and a Radio Shack, is now a tiki bar called The Pearl. Next door, in the location of the very last Jitney Jungle, is now a high-end bowling alley. Right past it is the circa-1962 modernist movie theater—now renovated as The Capri. And at the very end of the strip is The Station, a restored gas station now operating as a trendy wood fired pizza joint, and Pig & Pint—voted “Best Barbecue” every year since they opened in 2014. Later, I’d come back to try the legendary ‘cue and gorge on pork belly corndogs and tacos filled with fried green tomatoes, brisket, and smoked chicken.  

Turn the corner, and there's The Beacon—an arts and crafts shop of curiosities, where you can find anything from a totally restored 1950s bicycle to bookbinding kits, collectible comics, and working typewriters. Owned by local artists Jason and Nicole Wyatt Jenkins, the interior is celestially-inspired, the floor painted to resemble the moon’s surface and galaxies spilling off the walls. 

Just down the street, you’ll encounter a Tudor Revival complex—which I initially dismissed as an office space, or a school. Turns out, the building is one of Jackson’s most popular music venues, Duling Hall. Occupying the former Lorena Duling School, the event space regularly plays host to the region’s most popular traveling party bands and singer/songwriters. 

Craving a sit-down and a shot of caffeine, I walked all the way back down the main drag past the Strip to The Bean coffee shop—a white cottage bursting out with orange café umbrellas. On the way, my curiosity was piqued by perhaps the most out-of-time building in Fondren—Walker’s Drive-In. Though I wouldn’t have time to dine there during my stay, I did learn that the retro-futuristic Asteroid City-style building, with its mint green walled patio and neon sign, was home to one of Jackson’s oldest restaurants, open since the 1940s and helmed since 2001 by James Beard semi-finalist Chef Derek Emerson, who has elevated the classic diner tradition to require white tablecloths. 

At The Bean, I ordered a cappuccino (made with beans from Hattiesburg's Grin Coffee Roastery), then settled at a corner table, taking in the crackly cool effect of the contemporary artwork on the walls of the carefully-restored old house. The fireplace, for instance, was obscured by black and white stripes set inside the stained wooden mantel. I pulled out Welty’s Collected Stories, and allowed the characters of Lily Daw, Mrs. Watts, and the xylophone player to rise up into the Jackson around me. 

Before departing Fondren, I walked over to Mississippi’s very first shopping center, now called Woodland Hills, to step into Brent’s Drugs—one of the district’s, and Jackson’s, most famous destinations. It was by now approaching 5 pm, and I kicked myself when I realized the circa-1946 soda fountain was already closed for the day, chairs upside down on the tables. 

But I had heard a rumor . . . and the door was unlocked. Feeling a little illicit, I let myself in and walked, haltingly, to the back, waiting for someone to come out and ask me what the hell I was doing in there. But there was a door at the end, past the kitchen. I pushed it open and stepped into the just-barely-lit micro-world, all leather and marble, of The Apothecary. The speakeasy has been well-regaled for its vintage nod to Prohibition-era glamour, but even more for the quality of its craft cocktails—named by USA Today as one of the Best Bars of 2024. There was only one other customer, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. I joined them at the bartop, admiring the ninety-nine drawer pharmacy cabinet backdropping it. 

I asked the bartender, Everest Benson, for his recommendation on the short but dizzying list of drinks, which featured ingredients like acid-adjusted oleo and chili-infused vodka. For whiskey drinkers, Benson effusively encourages the Banana Bread old fashioned—which I’d initially looked at skeptically. The description reads that the cocktail is made with “walnut bitters that we accidentally left in the freezer next to the bananas.” I’m a believer that the craftsman knows best, though, and soon found myself all-too-satisfied sipping the whiskey-forward concoction that contained just a hint of sweetness. And, as Welty would approve, I was eavesdropping. My fellow barmate, it was clear, was also a bartender—at what sounded like a brand-new place in town. I had to ask.  

“The Walk-In!” he told me. “They just opened yesterday.” The new spot was attached to the Jackson institution Hal & Mal’s, where I happened to have reservations that very night. The new small plates and cocktail concept was created by the same owners, Chef Damien Cavicchi and Mary Sanders Cavicchi (who also own Campbell’s Bakery). “It looks incredible in there,” my new companion, Ian Hanson, told me. “Definitely worth a stop.” Benson interjected that they were encroaching on The Apothecary’s territory, serving Asian-inspired small plates and state-of-the-art drinks. They teased and laughed, but ultimately, as Hanson put it, there is room in Jackson for both. “Really since 2020, with Elvie’s, the food scene here has just exploded,” he said. “There is so much great stuff going on.” 

As tempting as it was to stick around and indulge in more of The Apothecary’s potions, there was another cocktail bar on my agenda—I had to head back to Fairview. 

The Library Lounge

Nestled on the first floor of the Inn in the building’s original library, the room is intimately cultivated, warmed by a fireplace and lamplight, glowing against dark paneled shelving holding actual books, many written by the Southern greats: Grisham, Faulkner, Morris, Williams, and Welty. The bar has been called the Cheers of the Belhaven neighborhood, and everyone in it looked as if they knew one another. I’d read somewhere that the bar had drawn some famous guests, including Mick Jagger and Matthew McConaughey. 

I ordered a “Shelby Foote Mason Dixon”—Evan Williams with black tea syrup, mint, Cointreau, and lemon—and listened to the conversations around me. “Is it your first trivia night?” a server asked the bartender, who nodded, grinning. ‘Good luck,” they laughed. The bartender’s name was Tucker Barefoot, and when I told him I was from Acadiana, he and the man sitting next to me at the bar wondered where my accent was. Before I could answer, a server came behind me and held his hand out for a fistbump. A little confused, I acquiesced, laughing. Later, he’d return to ask me what I was writing this time. I looked at him, confused. “Do we know each other?” 

Remarkably, he’d confused me for another writer, a woman who looks just like me, who comes to this seat at the Library Bar and writes, just like I was, a few times a week. We blinked at each other at the kismet of it, and then could only laugh. Before I left, I overheard discussion about yet another new restaurant, and—just lubricated enough—inserted myself. The server who’d been speaking was Kelsi Bouldin, who was opening up a fast-casual concept in nearby Ridgeland, hopefully in early 2025, called County Line Fish Hut. 

fairviewinn.com/library-lounge. 

Hal & Mal’s

Housed in a historic freight depot building along the old New Orleans Great Northern Railroad, Hal & Mal’s was opened by brothers Hal and Malcolm White in 1984 with a concert performance by Albert King, Otis Clay, Jack Owles, and Willie Dixon. 

Compared to the elegant spaces in which I’d spent much of the day, the restaurant was blessedly casual, with a kind of cultivated, funky griminess of a hometown joint. The walls were covered in neon and memorabilia, and as I sat down, the bass player from the Raphael Semmes Quartet came to let me know that it was jazz night. I ordered a sour from the Jackson-based Fertile Ground Beer Co., and for an appetizer, the Comeback & Crackers—a “Jackson tradition” I’d heard much about. The famous dipping sauce was a total delight, served with a basket filled with individually packaged “Wheat Twins” crackers that already felt a little wasteful on my solo diner’s table. However, when the server brought over my entrée—the highly recommended Indian Butter Chicken Nachos, which could have easily fed three—the people a few tables over ogled. It was a lot of food. One woman eventually came over and offered to take a photograph of me with it. 

Later, another woman approached my table and introduced herself as a longtime Jackson teacher. “I must have taught you before,” she said. “You look so very familiar.” I assured her I’d never been to Jackson before, and she looked as though she didn’t quite believe me. Left alone with my butter chicken, I wondered about my Jackson doppelganger(s), and whether they’d ever read Welty’s “A Curtain of Green.” 

Midway through my meal, another woman sat down at the table beside mine. She told me that this was her first day off  work in weeks, and she was treating herself. She clearly knew the musicians, and some of the servers. Together, we sipped our drinks and pulsed with the rest of the room to the jazz standards coming from the stage. halandmals.com. 

Mississippi Museums

The next morning I stayed in for breakfast, coming downstairs to try Fairview’s 1908 Provisions. At a table right by the window, I was able to look out at the gardens while sipping a piping hot cup of coffee. I ordered a fruit bowl to start, with fresh berries and cream, while I considered the beignets (Café du Monde’s recipe, purportedly) and the benedicts, but ended up with the croissant sandwich—pressed panini-style with eggs, prosciutto, cheddar cheese, and Duke’s. 

My second day in Jackson was devoted to the city’s museums. I started at the Two Museums Mississippi complex, opened as recently as 2017 in honor of the state’s bicentennial. The building is imposing as it is impressive, clearly designed to accommodate enormous crowds in its two institutions: the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum and the Museum of Mississippi History. 

I quickly realized that the two hours I had reserved for the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum were not nearly enough. The story of Civil Rights history in America is multifaceted and complex, and this museum presents it with courage, creativity, and Smithsonian-level quality. It’s worth reserving an entire afternoon for, all on its own. 

Newspaper clippings from the height of the slave trade set the scene, in which human beings were viewed and treated as commodities, with headlines reading, “Slaves! Slaves! Slaves!”, advertising a sale at the Forks of the Road in Natchez. In a carefully arranged display of texts, interactive exhibits, multi-media moments, and artifacts, the first few rooms take you through the dark history of oppression that set the stage for the Civil Rights movement less than a century ago. 

Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman?” speech adorns one wall. As you walk through exhibits laying out the history of Reconstruction, depicting the ways in which African Americans persisted and resisted, voices shout out at you from the corners, “Boy, get off that sidewalk!”  I spent time reading and listening to oral histories regarding the rise of Black farmers, the impact of the “Mammy” stereotype, and how enslavement was ultimately replaced by mass incarceration as a strategy for maintaining white supremacy. A series of pillars serve as monuments to the thousands of individuals lynched in Mississippi, including their names with dates, the cities where their murders took place, and their supposed crimes. A quote from former Mississippi governor (1904–1908) James K. Vardaman demonstrates the unabashed, brutal dehumanization that racism infused into the very government systems: “If it is necessary every Negro in the state will be lynched, it will be done to maintain white supremacy.” 

An entire gallery was devoted to the impact the Civil War had on African Americans, demonstrating that they were equal in expectation, ability, and heroism in every way to the white soldier—only to be treated as inferior when they returned. Another focused on the ongoing struggles for education equality in America. Jerry Knight, the Museum Educator at Two Mississippi Museums, joined me for a multi-media presentation inside a replica of a schoolhouse, for which we sat in school-style desks. He told me about how Cleveland, Mississippi, where he used to teach, didn’t integrate its schools until as late as 2015. Another incredibly compelling immersive theater experience, narrated by Oprah Winfrey and shown in a convincing replica of a church, told of the hope and danger of Freedom Summer, 1964. Others honored the legacies of the movement’s martyrs, including the child Emmett Till and activist Medgar Evers—whose assassination inspired Eudora Welty’s short story, “Where Is the Voice Coming From?” It is the only one, she is known to have said, that she ever wrote out of anger. 

The museum’s heartbeat is a center gallery, from which an enormous glowing light sculpture called “This Little Light of Mine” pulsates and broadcasts gospel songs, such as the Civil Rights anthem, “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round.” 

While I was there, I overheard a man speaking to a group of students, most of whom were Black. He told them, “This is your information. This is enlightenment. Don’t let anybody take this information from you.” 

Before heading to the Museum of Mississippi History, I stopped for lunch at Nissan Café, a casual counter concept by long-reigning Best Chef in Jackson Nick Wallace, who Food Network fans might recognize from Cutthroat Kitchen, Top Chef, and Chopped (which he won in Season 34). I ordered what sounded like the most interesting thing on the menu—the Southern-style Ramen Noodle Bowl—and was once again defeated in the serving size battle. Each spoonful of vegetable broth, soaking through the noodles, smoked pork belly, and pineapple, felt as though it were filling my belly to the top with its sheer (dare I say daring) richness. 

If I were to visit Jackson again, I would absolutely return to these museums, but I would allot a separate day for each. I fear that after so many hours reading and contemplating the most fraught moments of our nation’s and region’s history, I glazed over a bit in my experience of the Mississippi Museum of History. That said, I was once again impressed by the quality of the exhibitions, which carried me through the history of the state beginning with stories of the Chickasaw and Choctaw—told through audio features and written text, in English and their original languages—and moving through the exploration and settlement of the Europeans, the enslavement of Africans, the impact of agriculture, the Civil War, Reconstruction, and into the social changes wrought by the twentieth century. The experience begins in a dark circular room, with benches set up around a central audio-visual installation meant to imitate the feel of stories told around the campfire, with Morgan Freeman as the teller. Some of the most interesting artifacts included an early copy of the famous Bowie knife, the Mississippi Civil War Flag Collection, an outfit worn by Ike Turner, and a replica of a Juke Joint called “Lucille’s Place.”  

My next stop was the Mississippi Museum of Art, where I wandered through the permanent collection exhibition in the Gertrude C. Ford Galleries titled, New Symphony of Time. Drawing together 170 works by artists from Mississippi and beyond, the curation is meant to consider how Mississippi, as a place and metaphor, has inspired artworks concerning time. This translates to artistic explorations of ancestry, memory, migration, and home. Included were artworks by legends like Elizabeth Catlett, Georgia O’Keefe, and Benny Andrews, as well as Mississippi’s first Abstract Expressionist and Modernist painter Dusti Bongé, the “Mad Potter of Biloxi” George Ohr, and Eudora Welty—who when she wasn’t writing, dabbled in photography. 

Some works that especially stood out to me were Titus Kaphar’s “Darker Than Cotton”—a traditional portrait of an eighteenth century landowner, peeled away to unveil a close-up, hyper-realistic portrait of a Black woman’s face—revealing the hidden stories and individuals behind history’s mythmaking. Earlie Hudnall, Jr.’s gelatin silver print portrait, “Mama with her Collard Greens” moved me, and I stood in front of Noah Saterstrom’s mesmerizing “Road to Shubuta” so long that I had to rush through the rest of the exhibition. 

2mm.mdah.ms.gov. 

mcrm.mdah.ms.gov. 

mmh.mdah.ms.gov. 

msmuseumart.org. 

The Walk-In

In stark contrast to its sister restaurant Hal & Mal’s, the Walk-In is totally “vibey,” intentionally eclectic. The literary influence I’d observed at so many of the institutions here prevails—this time in a more eccentric, rich librarian sort of way, with velvet, Persian-style rugs, and animal print everywhere. The barstools are fringed, and the cabinetry is green. On one side of the room are what appear to be old oil portraits of historic figures, on the other, abstract art. I ordered a “Sage Against the Machine”—Four Roses with Cointreau, blackberry shrub, lemon, and torched sage—with an order of egg rolls. Perfectly portioned for a pre-dinner snack, and served with mango sweet and sour sauce, I had a feeling this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the experience of their menu—which also featured a pupu platter, a bulgogi grilled cheese, and crab rangoons. 

thewalkinjxn.com. 

Belhaven Town Center

Ian Hanson from The Apothecary had told me Belhaven was the beating heart of Jackson’s developing culinary and entertainment scene. Sparked by Chef Hunter Evans’s opening of Elvie’s in 2020, the energy of the neighborhood has drawn a collective of complimentary concepts. There’s Poppy Pies, a beloved pizza pop up that had only opened their brick and mortar the Sunday before my visit. Pulito Osteria, which opened in January 2023, brings forth Michelin-experienced Chef Chaz Linzey in a concert of traditional Italian-style cooking. Good Bar, another concept by Evans, is a post-dinner cocktail joint and neighborhood hangout. Then there’s Fertile Ground Beer Co., where I grabbed a pilsner. The brewery’s origins go back to a 2014 TEDx event in The Capri Theater, titled “Fertile Ground,” which led to several entrepreneurial efforts around Jackson, including the city’s only brewery. The folks there are currently in the process of partnering with Mississippi/Louisiana coffee roasters Northshore Specialty Coffee to open the Cultivate Coffee Project. And finally, Mayday Ice Cream rounds things out with a dessert option. 

[Read about a revived downtown Jackson institution, here, in our November 2024 issue—"Return of the Mayflower" ] 

Sipping my pilsner, it occurred to me that the Town Center is a perfect example of how success can be a domino effect in a community like this one. You can see the whole thing taking shape. The origin story of Belhaven’s Wing Mouth says as much—the owner and his wife were having a date night on the greenspace at the center of it all, she enjoying a glass of wine from Good Bar, he a beer from Fertile Ground, sharing a pizza from Poppy Pies. And he pointed at a recently closed space and said, "I am going to turn that into my wing shop.”

belhaventowncenter.com. 

Sambou’s African Kitchen

Unassuming in a strip mall, this easy-to-miss destination dining spot has been recognized in publications across the country and by the James Beard Foundation, as well as recognized as a "Best New Restaurant" by Southern Living in 2023 and 2024. It’s been around since 2022, when Sally Demba, a Jackson transplant from Gambia, finally listened to friends’ years-long insistence that she should open a restaurant for traditional Gambian cuisine, scratch-made every day. She runs the restaurant with her son, Joseph, and daughter, Bibian Sambou, and has quickly developed a passionate following in the area. The night I went, there was only one other table occupied, but take-out orders flowed in a constant stream. Following the advice of a 2022 New York Times article titled “25 Restaurant Dishes We Couldn’t Stop Thinking About,” bolstered by the waiter’s recommendation, I ordered the Oxtail Plate. When it came out, it interestingly resembled something very similar to the rice and gravy I’d grown up with in Cajun country, though the spices were different—warm instead of hot on the tastebuds, with a strong dose of ginger. The meat was spoon tender, melt-in-your mouth good, and the cabbage side on its own was worth shouting over. It was the kind of meal I couldn’t wait to call and tell my husband, the cook in our house, all about. sambouafricankitchen.com. 

[Read about another popular, new Jackson culinary hotspot, "Pulito Osteria: New York-style Italian in Jackson's Belhaven neighborhood"] 

Elvie’s

On my last day in Jackson, I finally made it to the epicenter of the city’s emerging culinary scene: Elvie’s. Evans’ dinner menu is his true claim to fame, but his Hangtown Fry French Omelet may have been the best thing I ate during my entire visit. Prepared in the French style, the eggs were decadently buttery with a texture more akin to a custard than a scramble. The omelet was served with three fried oysters on top—fresh from the fryer, fresh from the Gulf—and hollandaise. I paired the savory with a mellow sweet—the bruléed grapefruit, served with cool mint and almond yogurt. The sustainably (mostly locally)-sourced ingredients were simple, but brought together so artfully. It’s easy to see how someone could eat here and be inspired to create something else for their city. 

elviesrestaurant.com. 

Eudora Welty House & Gardens

I took a quick detour to Native Coffee Co. down the street, a local favorite that was named the best coffee shop in Mississippi by Food & Wine in 2022. Fueled by lavender mint tea, I made my way to Pinehurst Street, where Welty lived for most of her life. 

The incredible thing about Welty is that she was a living legend; she knew, while she was alive, that her work was of great significance. And partly because of this, so much of her world has been preserved. In 1986, she bequeathed her circa-1925 Tudor Revival home (“with some timbering,” as she once put it, “à la Shakespeare”) to the Mississippi Department of Archives and History, and when you enter it today, it appears undisturbed by time. Our tour guide told us that everything in the home—the blankets, the furniture, the knick knacks, the art—was hers. And the books. Walking through, they are everywhere, piled onto every surface, lining countless shelves along the walls. The guide numbered them at over five thousand, and told us that when Welty had guests, she’d just advise them to move the books out of the way to take a seat on the couch. She was also well-known to offer a shot of Maker’s Mark to her guests upon arrival, and to leave all the windows open to the world so that she might better see, smell, and hear it. Her favorite place to write was her bedroom, beneath the window that looked out to Pinehurst Street—where Jacksonians remember her often visible, at work, window open. This was the side of her bedroom reserved for imagining, the other side—with her bed—assigned for dreaming. The “museum” feels much like a lived-in home; you can almost expect Welty to walk out of the room you’ve just left. Her presence is inescapable. 

welty.mdah.ms.gov. 

visitjackson.com

Disclaimer: This trip was hosted and partially funded by Visit Jackson, though the opinions of the writer are entirely her own and formed independently of this fact.