Jackson Free Press

What do you do when your sweet and sexy husband dies at the age of 36, leaving you to raise two cutie-pie sons, ages 7 and 4, all by yourself? Why, you come home to Mama, Daddy and your brother, right?

I didn't give returning to Jackson a second thought, leaving behind the sprawling metropolis of Houston, Texas. I just wasn't so sure that I'd find some way to make sure those guys were exposed to more than football and hunting.

Since my husband LeRoy was a great cook, a creator of stained-glass lamps and panels, a lover of all sorts of music—recorded and live—someone who enjoyed sketching ideas in a big spiral-bound pad, a hard-working construction worker and carpenter who liked to spend time with his sons and me at festivals, art shows, and grocery and hardware stores, I had my work cut out for me.

Papaw and Uncle Howard proved quite adept at teaching the boys all sorts of important guy-stuff, while Grandma kept them on the straight and narrow. Somewhere in between, though, I got a hold of them.

Twenty-one years ago, remember, there was no http://www.anything to search for places to go on the weekends for family fun. What I had to work with was the once-a-month listing that came out in the Sunday Clarion-Ledger. Red pencil in hand, I'd circle events like Wells Fest, the Chapel of the Cross arts and crafts show, the re-enactment of the Civil War battle at Champion's Hill, demonstrations at the crafts' cabin on the Natchez Trace, the various acts coming to the State Fair, the Pepsi Pops at the Rez, the Brick Street Festival in Clinton—even the tractor-pulls and mud-bogs at the Coliseum where all three of us absolutely ate it up, wondering all the while just what was being vibrated out of the ceiling in tiny flakes.

Not everything that we did was listed in the paper, though. We went on a weekend trip to the Gulf Coast, to play on the beach at Ship Island. Going south on 49, we turned left just a little ways before Gulfport and went to see a fabulous collection of Indian artifacts at a privately owned museum a man and his wife operated at the end of a sandy road. On the way back to Jackson, we took another detour to Pep's Point, just north of Hattiesburg, where we pedaled together in one of those fiberglass boats.

One year, when the guys were probably in junior high or thereabouts, I announced, "We've got season tickets to New Stage," much to their disgust. "Why? Why? Why?" they wanted to know. "Because you'll thank me someday," I told them, "that you've been exposed to live, local theater." The season opened with "Pump Boys and Dinettes." Not three minutes into it, both guys were on the edge of their seats, leaning forward a bit, mesmerized. Our next favorite show was "The Mystery of Irma Veep," where two men played multiple roles, in a completely convincing way.

I took Lamont and Leland, and a few of their friends that they somehow coerced, to see "Gone With the Wind" on that magnificent big screen at the old Deville Cinema. Once again, before they resigned themselves to the inevitable, it was, "Why? Why? Why?" even though by then they understood the answer wasn't really that they'd thank me some day. In their heart-of-hearts, after our many talks about their daddy and what our lives would in all probability be like if he were with us, they knew he'd be right in the front seat of our car every time.

One film they were eager to see was the 3-D classic "Creature from the Black Lagoon" at Hal & Mal's, in that big room where great music is often heard. We donned our 3-D glasses, and got caught up in the flimsy plot and the film's retro-special effects.

One night when they were in high school, Lamont and I jumped in the car about 9:45 p.m. after he told me that Tower of Power was at Hal & Mal's, driving down to sit outside underneath the overpass, listening through the open door.

One New Year's Eve—mine and LeRoy's anniversary—the three of us saw Willie Nelson and B. B. King at the Coliseum. The guys were thrilled to see and hear two of their daddy's favorite entertainers and loved for me to tell about the Kansas City concerts with B. B. and the Houston ones with Willie that the two of us had enjoyed. When they were little, I forced them to sit through the Oak Ridge Boys at the fair—later on they took me to see the Bar-Kays. Another time I took them to Hal & Mal's for Counting Crows, to Birmingham's Legion Field for Public Enemy, opening for U2, and to Atlanta for Blind Melon who opened for Lenny "Are You Gonna Go My Way?" Kravitz.

Now they're grown and gone, off cooking for a living because they love to cook. When their Grandma and I visited them this summer in Portland, Ore., they couldn't wait to take us to First Thursday—the local art gallery walk, to take me to see "Spider-Man 2," to have us dine at 3 Doors Down where Lamont cooks, to get us close to the Willamette River for the 4th of July fireworks, to teach us how to use the public transportation, to cook for us in their own backyard.

Parents, don't let any time go by without taking your children to as many of the massive number of arts and entertainment events that Jackson and the surrounding area now offers. Start with this, our Fall Arts Preview, your PDA or your calendar, and decide what to do when. Buy tickets now; block out the time; join the Lounge List (at jacksonfreepress.com) for ticket discounts. You'll make such memories, like having a photo album complete with sound stored away in your minds. All the while, you'll be planting the seeds of your children's future, as well as your own.

Lynette Hanson is a writer and copy chief of the Jackson Free Press. She is also the librarian for the Morrison Academic Achievement Center in Jackson.