Dear Editor,
I’ll never be able to say goodbye, John Ellzey
Only – “Happy Trails to you . . . ”
My brother William and sister Mary and I were having a wonderful time recently reviving old childhood memories in a flurry of emails – “repainting an old faded picture and bringing it back to life,” as my sister said. John Ellzey had just discovered a long-lost fragment of history that involved us when we were very young (5 and 6 years old) and took the time to let us know.
The fragment was about a family who lived close to where John himself grew up in Little Yazoo. This family lived in a grand old house that was used as a stagecoach stop and inn in the 1800s. Southern hospitality welcomed travelers with a beautiful rose garden, a hearty meal and cool well water, and comfortable sleeping quarters upstairs. (See John’s book, Images of America - YAZOO, page 114).
We visited this family many times with our parents and now collected our memories of it to share with John. John’s own memory as a child was driving by the inn many, many times when he visited his aunt and uncle who lived just down the road – and he never ceased to wonder about the history it held.
John and my sister planned a trip to the old place as soon as the weather turned a bit cooler. He not only wanted to revisit his own childhood memories, but he was the only one who knew how to get there! He was to be the tour guide extraordinaire with his unlimited knowledge of everything Yazoo. Sadly, John also remembered seeing the house burn to the ground decades ago leaving only a few cedar trees and yellow daffodils that mark the site of a previous life, and the old cemetery in the back pasture.
Time stitched our lives together in other ways, too. John bought and lived in a house he called The Parakeet that our great-grandmother's family built and lived in. Her name was Martha, my namesake, and she lived in a second family-owned house next door that John also bought. Martha was Yazoo City's librarian before Ricks Library was built. I didn’t know she had been librarian until I worked at Ricks myself and came across a small document that mentioned it that John had preserved.
We shared more stories with John about how we used to play in his yard when we were small children, as well as in the little flower shop near the back alley that he was so interested in. In our play we were joined occasionally by a young cousin who lived across the street. The four of us kept strict law and order in our neighborhood, our cousin being Lash LaRue, whose theme song was ‘Sioux City Sioux’, and we being Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, whose theme song was ‘Happy Trails to You…’ It was the last story we shared with John before suddenly it became quiet, and we didn’t know why.
It is inspiring to think about the rich and extensive world John created within the few short blocks where he lived and worked for decades, and the countless people who benefited from it. John was truly a treasure to scores of us, and always will be. And now we celebrate a new journey with him, although it is a heartbreaking one for us that we never expected.
The memories will live on . . .
So this is not to say goodbye, John Ellzey
It is only to finish the song . . .
”Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
Happy trails to you, keep smilin' until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we're together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.
Happy trails to you, 'till we meet again.”
Martha Brister
