Stories of the South - Voting House Cairo, Mississippi

Cairo Voting House Hickory Ridge Studio

No matter that my mail came from Pheba, I did not grow up in Pheba.  I grew up in the Cairo Community on highway 46 between Griffith and Montpelier. 

You'll probably never go through there unless you make a point of it or are lost.  We gave directions by landmarks as the road signs were iffy at best and so small that you generally were past them before you realized that was where you were supposed to turn. 

When my grandparents moved here in the mid 60s after my grandfather had been restationed from Witchita Falls, TX at Shepard Airforce Base back to Columbus Airforce Base in Columbus, MS Daddy says there was a sign that said Cairo.  It rusted away and the county never bothered to put up a new one.  The only thing that lets you know you are in Cairo is the voting house which sits right off 46 and Cairo Cumberland Presbyterian Church.  

Cairo was a stopping point on the way to West Point back in the mule and wagon days.  Mr. Albert Thompson's family had built a big two or three story annebellum home back before the Civil War that people called the light house.  Travelers that had crossed Buck Creek a little late in the day could look and see a lantern shining in a window of the top story of the home and knew they had reached Sand Creek and camp for the night before making the final leg of their journey to West Point.  They still had to cross Underwood Creek, a leg of Line Creek, Long Branch Creek, and the real booger Chuquatonchee Creek, but bless their hearts at least that had somewhere safe to sleep for that night.  I hate that the old home fell in, but as people know an annebellum home is hell to keep up.  Mr. Albert built himself a nice brick FHA home.  I should tell some stories on him one day.  I wish I had some pictures and better yet a video of him.  Mr. Albert was one of a kind.  He lived to be 99, two months shy of 100.  He chewed Cannonball plug chewing tobacco and had a totty of whiskey every day till the day he died.  He also lived by himself.  A truly honest, humble, and wise man. 

The voting house above is used for elections of course, but also by a local group of ladies that hand quilt.  I'd love to get some pictures of that one day.  They finished a quilt for my mom; my great grandmother had made the top, but had never quilted it.  Their work is really good. 

Just a little piece of home.     

Have a good week my lovelies!



Popular Posts