Flipping through a bound archive of newspapers from 2007, I discovered that I first joined The Yazoo Herald staff in March of that year.
Ten years, a decade…it goes by incredibly fast.
When I first arrived in Yazoo City, I admit, it didn’t feel quite like home yet. My fiancée, now husband, Jason was born and raised in the Gateway to the Delta. But I had visited Yazoo when I was in second grade on a field trip to the Witch’s Grave. After that, it was a distant memory.
I knew very few people. And I found myself counting the days to the weekend when I could return to my hometown of Natchez. I was familiar with my beloved city on the bluff. I knew people, its streets, its landmarks, its legends. It was my home, and I felt a little out of place in my new community.
As I unpacked my belongings to my new life, it occurred to me that I had always done things my own way. My closet in my house began to take shape with my vintage dresses and hats. My odd trinkets and World War II memorabilia began to find its place among Jason’s hunting gear and Indian artifacts.
Jason went above and beyond to make me feel comfortable in our new home. And I found shelter within its walls where I could still be me. I was the girl Jason fell in love with so he willingly accepted my often “quirky” interests.
But what would Yazoo think of me? I had the privilege of growing up alongside my childhood friends in Natchez. They accepted me and knew what they were getting into with me.
I was the girl who wore a hat adorned with a feather to a crawfish boil. I laughed loud, extremely loud. I could attend a gala in a ballroom and jump on a four-wheeler within the next hour. In Natchez, I was just Jamie Kemp.
But in Yazoo City, I had become Jamie Patterson.
My first day on the job at The Yazoo Herald, I was extremely nervous. I didn’t recognize names of people who were well-known. I still had to look at a map to locate streets. I was unfamiliar with landmarks. And driving around Goose Egg Park threw a curve ball at me.
But I loved the newspaper business. And I was determined to do my very best and give the community what they wanted…quality journalism.
With a head full of doubt and a stomach of pinched nerves, I took my first interview. It was a World War II veteran named John Copeland. And I was so relieved. Being a World War II buff, I spent nearly two hours interviewing this sweet man. I wasn’t nervous at all, and I felt quite at ease writing the story.
And I did it well. I told his story.
I cut that article out and put it in my scrapbook. It was the first story I had ever completed at The Herald. I wasn’t sure if there would be any more stories to add at that time. I was just praying that Yazoo would accept this Natchez girl with open arms.
And, over the years, Yazoo certainly has.
Ten years later, Yazoo is my home. I stop and talk to people every time I am out and about. My best friends are always there for me through thick and thin. My children love their school, and they are making memories similar to those I enjoyed in my own childhood. My church family at First United Methodist Church shows me so much love and support. And my career at The Herald is just what I have always wanted.
I return home to Natchez often. And I admit it is nice to visit with my old friends, who probably know me better than anyone. I can travel down streets and never get lost. I can swing by the Malt Shop for my regular order. And I still pass through the parking lot of my old high school and smile.
But when I enter back into Yazoo County, I do feel like I am home. I travel her gravel roads and let the air dance through my hair. I order my usual at Tom’s, cheese curds with a Blues Burger. I stop in at Black and White’s Department Store and Webb’s Pharmacy to catch up on a few laughs. And I greet my readers every day as if they are family.
It’s been ten years, and it’s been one heck of a ride. And it’s one I will gladly ride over and over again for the next decades to come.
Face it Yazoo, you are stuck with me. And your kind spirits and loving words are sure to keep me around.
