07/25/2025
I flew back into Mississippi this week after a work trip, and before I even made it into the airport, I could already tell I was home.
And I donāt mean because the heat hit me like I just opened the door to a bakery oven set to āmolten.ā
No, it was something else.
As we unloaded from the plane, two things caught my attention.
First ā and I know this isnāt exactly crucial to the story, but I feel like it deserves a shoutout ā the Jackson airport? Itās lookinā good. Seriously. Someone has been putting in the work. And yes⦠the escalator is working again. Hats off to whoever finally wrestled that thing back to life. Your service is seen.
And hereās the second thing. The important one.
Iād just spent a few weeks surrounded by folks from other cities and states. Lovely people. Friendly, professional, interesting. Nothing bad to say. But as I stepped off the plane in Jackson, I watched a little story play out that reminded me exactly why I live here.
There was an older woman ahead of me, struggling with her suitcase up the jet bridge ramp. Before I could even step in, another woman ā clearly struggling with her own bag ā leaned over and said, ālet me help you with that.ā
She took the bag and started walking it up the ramp.
A few seconds later, the guy Iād been sitting next to (and who was even taller than I am, so naturally weād wound up in the same back row) popped up beside them, scooped up both bags like it was nothing, and carried them the rest of the way with a gentle smile and a nod.
Just a small moment. No grand gestures. Nobody filmed it. No likes, no retweets.
Just three people doing what people around here tend to do ā looking out for each other.
When I travel, people ask me all the time, āWhy Mississippi?ā Like itās some big mystery.
This is why.
This right here. Not just the kindness ā but the reflex of kindness. The quiet way folks help each other. The way strangers act like neighbors, just because someone needs a hand and they happen to be standing close.
I know weāve got our problems. Every place does. But Iāve never lived anywhere else where the little, everyday decencies still happen so naturally ā where theyāre part of the rhythm of the place.
Thatās home. Thatās Mississippi.
And itās good to be back š