Do you enjoy fresh pan-fried catfish straight from the pond, or maybe homemade cracklings for your made-from-scratch cornbread? How about authentic handmade hot tamales made from a recipe taught years ago by a lady of Ol’ Mexico?

Then there’s cane syrup that has never known a refiner, or peas, butterbeans and corn, garden fresh. Where else will you find handmade pork sausage or deer steaks all processed right on the spot?

Think you’re still back on a farm of the 1930s or 40s? No, you’re at the spotless, immaculately clean home of Miss Lucy Carter, located in the south end of Lauderdale County near Meridian.

I will never forget the first time my husband and I drove down to Miss Lucy’s home to pick up an order of hot tamales. Friends of ours had recommended Miss Lucy’s hot tamales as the best ever, and so we decided to try them out.

You see, we thought we were just going to pick up an order of great hot tamales, and we did … but, better than that, we were privileged to make the acquaintance of a lovely, hard-working lady, eager to please, and always with a welcoming Mississippi smile.

As we pulled into Miss Lucy’s drive, that first time, I noticed all the lovely flowers and plants in every available spot in her yard. I thought this lady really had a green thumb, and I was right. Lush and green, healthy and vibrant, the lawn and the flowerbeds were gleaming products of loving, constant care.

I mentioned to her that first day, “You have a beautiful yard, I mean, no weeds and so lush!” I’m sure I was just gushing on and on about it all.

She answered me with, “While some folks lay up, and watch them soap operas and football games, I’m putting out chicken fertilizer and pulling weeds!” It was very evident that a weed had no chance in Miss Lucy’s yard.

As we became friends, I was to learn the beautiful flowers and lawn were just a small part of Miss Lucy’s work ethic. Arising early and doing a full, I mean full to overflowing, day’s work was just the norm for her, and had been her entire life.

She shared with me the story of her father and his truck farm, or rolling store, as some people called it — how he had regular routes all around this area and into Alabama, too. She had a number of brothers and sisters who helped Poppa with his produce, a family business, but more than a business, their very livelihood.

Each family member did their part, and sometimes, more than their part, to keep the family fed. But as Miss Lucy remembered, I could see those were happy times for her, and I enjoyed being the recipient of her storytelling. I hope she will continue sharing her stories with me for many years to come.

I was not surprised to hear Miss Lucy’s name in conjunction with Causeyville Day, a time for displaying the talents of the community while raising funds for the Causeyville Volunteer Fire Department, of which Miss Lucy is a member. You know, if my house was on fire, I would be relieved to have Miss Lucy with the firefighters, knowing if there was any way, Miss Lucy would see to it that fire was doused!

When she mentioned to me she sang tenor in her church choir, I believed. One day I dropped by to pick up another order of hot tamales, and found Miss Lucy all in a dither as she stammered, “I only got six dozen tamales done this morning after me and Donald went fishing, and I cleaned them all up and then fried them up, cooking some fresh greens to go with them, of course, we had to have some hush puppies, too!”

“Six dozen are just fine, Miss Lucy,” I answered, since I have never needed any more than two dozen at a time — but she just wanted to be accommodating, to provide more than expected, earlier than was necessary … all in a day’s work, a full day of work on a Mississippi farm.

And I should tell you all about the poochie dogs and the special kitty, Tinkerbell, plus chickens and turkeys all living on Miss Lucy’s place, but I will save that for another time.

The Miss Lucy Carters of the world are few and far between, and I have been blessed to know the original, the one-of-a-kind. Perhaps, one day, you will find someone like her, too. I suspect when you find them, they will be Mississippians, home of the generous-hearted and sweet-spirited — our Mississippi!



Anne McKee is a retiree and freelance writer who lives in Meridian.