A Day in the Life of Mobile
(I wrote this two years ago, never dreaming how much I would miss this today.)
“You may run. You may hide. But you won't get away from this earth. Yesterday was yesterday. Today is today. Tomorrow is coming after midnight if you live and breathe."
This was part of Henry Hall's sermon during our interview today. Vincent Lawson goes with me to take pictures and we have become attached to the 88-year-old artist who dances as he talks and paints with branches he breaks off his spruce tree. As we were leaving, I told him we would be back in two weeks. He said, "Honey, don't promise me tomorrow. All we have is today."
He is right, all we have is today. It is a lesson I keep reminding myself as I am learning to focus more on the present and make the most out of this day. When I worked at Books-A-Million years ago, "A Day in the Life Books" had just come out. A large team of photographers spreading out capturing as many moments as possible in a country on one day. I want to do a project like that in Mobile with as many people as possible taking pictures to show the life and depth of this city and what the rest of us miss in one single day.
Today in Mobile, a woman drove her neighbor to Dumas Wesley Community Center so he could get food from the food pantry and pants and shirts from the clothes closet. Senior citizens played dominoes and read books. Me. Connie sat in the corner by the window gluing yellow flowers to a straw hat. She will put the hat on her door for Easter but says she won't go to church that day "because it will be too crowded."
Men from the power company pulled off manhole covers and climbed down to repair power lines below Dauphin Street. Two worked in the dark below while a third sat on a bucket above making sure the fan was blowing on them.
Neely gave a tour of downtown to new postal employees in training. He has been a letter carrier for 31 years and makes 750 stops a day. He says being a mailman is harder than it looks.
Bricks are stacked in a blue plastic swimming pool on the sidewalk and a sign close by says that Bienville Souvenir & Gifts is "Coming Soon!!" A cello is pulled toward the Mobile Symphony Orchestra office and the tour bus of Jason Mraz is parked a block away. There is a photo shoot and a graffiti tribute that says "I love you."
Tomorrow, most of this will be gone and it will be a new day in the life of Mobile.
My favorite writer is E.B. White, not just because of his perfect book, Charlotte's Web, but because of these paragraphs from Here is New York that made me realize I want to live in a city where unexpected pieces of life can happen at any time.
"New York blends the gift of privacy with the excitement of participation...Since I have been sitting in the miasmic air shaft, a good many rather splashy events have occurred in town. A man shot and killed his wife in a fit of jealousy. It caused no stir outside his block and got only a small mention in the papers. I did not attend...I heard the Queen Mary blow one midnight, though, and the sound carried the whole history of departure and longing and loss. The Lions have been in convention. I've not seen one Lion... A man was killed by a falling cornice. I was not party to the tragedy, and again the inches counted heavily.
"Although New York often imparts a feeling of great forlornness of forsakenness, it seldom seems dead or unresourceful; and you always feel that either by shifting your location ten blocks or reducing your fortune by five dollars, you can experience rejuvenation."
White is talking about his New York City, but this is how I feel about Mobile. Shift your location ten blocks or meet someone new and experience rejuvenation. Go back tomorrow and the story will change, offering rejuvenation all over again. That is the gift of a city that is alive and filled with diversity and creativity.
I know Henry told me I am only promised today, but I hope I get to see what Mobile's story will be tomorrow.
