Ellie McGhee
Bartlett, TN
2021, Senior, Creative Writing

Lake Itasca stands tall at the top of the tower, covered by a canopy of lush, green trees. A small stream babbles over a row of gray rocks standing firm as the summer sun beats down onto the dry grass and crumbly soil. Into a small river, it grows like a mighty redwood. Thousands of years ago, ice caps sparkling like diamonds melted away into the shimmering waters that formed the lake. From the past, the Mississippi river streams into the future.

Down through the saints of Minnesota, it flows. Through the wild rice marshes with green stalks peeking out from dark blue water while a soft breeze caresses grains of rice. Reflections of trees lead into another world as the great plains of grasses stretch from forests into the heartland of America. In St. Paul, it divides the flatlands with winds whipping over them like a knife, and limestone bluffs made of archaic gray rock that holds in the earth like Atlas holding the sky. Raspberry Island stands in its waters like a small fish, while red and amber leaves jut out from the ground during autumn and burn in the sun like embers from a fire.

The Mississippi courses through Illinois and Wisconsin. Cold winter bites its plants, and powdery snow covers the horizon and glitters like sugar, which melts into gray mush. A hot summer takes its place, with the sun beating down on the river that stands impervious to its rays. The water is clear like a mirror, which reflects the blue sky. If one looks deep into its pools, one can see into the past.

The water dances along to St. Louis, the gateway of the west. The sound of blues music fills the air, and hot summers boil the water and threaten an ice age in the winter. Here, its child the Missouri joins with its father, carrying sediment from the breadbasket of America in a murky strong current. Wheat and barley come from the Missouri into the Mississippi and ends its journey as bread on the table of a family in Maryland eating lunch during a rainy day. The water connects us all.

Flowing down, the Ohio River joins its family. The Ohio drifts along the rich history of Pittsburgh—the city of steel—past Cincinnati and Louisville, and into the Mississippi while swimming with the blue catfish whose whiskers tickle the river beds. The tributaries are like the branches of a mighty oak tree. The Mississippi is the trunk that drips down into the soil with its roots.

Up into the Rockies, the sediments wash away and create fertile banks with rich loam that gives birth to our food. The Red River carries rocks from Oklahoma to Louisiana in a ribbon of brown like a streak of mud on a child’s shirt after a long day in the creeks.

The great murky river flows through Egypt, down from Cairo to Memphis. The River cuts through the city on the bluff, while Beale Street sings, and the cicadas harmonize. Grass, grain, steel, and coal move through it on slow boats that fight against the current. Up north, the souls from the sunken Sultana weep into the river. Heavy rain floods the lowlands and West Memphis as steel bridges with trains and cars rumble over the mighty waters, shuffling people across the country. The summer sun beats down, and the humidity penetrates people’s skin as they walk along Riverside Drive, admiring that giant strip of blue painted across the green lands.

The River goes through Tunica, where the clinks of poker chips and the shuffling of cards accompany gaudy lights and the stench of alcohol. It flows through Greenville into Vicksburg, where soldiers lie. Into Baton Rouge, the marshes and bogs covered in green and sticky air hold the remnants of alligators and shrimp. Barren trees droop over the bogs as gray leaves hang down into murky waters. New Orleans stifles the river with its heat as it flows past the French Quarter. The smell of bonbons and gumbo fills the air and lingers into Vermilion Bay. Down into the delta, through the brackish waters, and into coastal wetlands with chunks of green standing out against the blue. The Waterfowl fly up and down the river, searching for home. Into the Gulf of Mexico it flows freshwater into salt, becoming part of the oceans and part of the world.

The Mississippi is beautiful. The Mississippi is dying. Levees and dams and man tightened the Mississippi into chains and suffocated its children. Blood is cut off from the heart through steel and materials nature doesn’t recognize. The Wetlands shrivel and die every year. The sediments fueling its growth are cut off like the veins of leaves dying in the winter. They flee into the salty water where they lay wasted for generations. The wildlife, deprived of its home, suffers and disappears into history as plastic and polyester take their place. Nutria forages and devours the wetlands of the delta, invading the land like soldiers from a foreign army. The Maple basswood forests weep like willows as the crystal darters run for their lives. Goat and Sand prairies along the river gasp for breath as their creatures fade into the background. The mosaic of life teeming within the waters disappears as the setting sun disappears in an explosion of red, yellow, and pink into the horizon, only this time never bleeding with the hope of sunrise.

Black gold spreads out from the Gulf and stretches its long claws into the hearts of fish and plants, choking them into submission. Toxic waste seeps into the pores of the water and permeates all that lives within it. Farmers nourish their crops with poison that feeds into the tumbling waters and seeps into the salty sea.

The Dead Zone grows as nitrogen and phosphorus travel like an army in great battalions into the Gulf from the Mississippi. Algae bloom from our grain and conquer all life like toxic gas. The Gulf of Mexico, once a gorgeous bastion of life, is now choked by the mighty river that once fed it water. Aquatic animals die from hypoxia and rot into the putrid ocean. The Mississippi kills as it is killed.

The Mississippi is a barrier that connects us. It connects east to west. North to south. Past to present. Through the Mississippi, we travel through time.

The Earth stands still as the Mississippi tumbles through the pristine gemstone of the forests. The sun shines on the blue river like crystals in its water. The breeze is cool, and vast, rich green trees like muffin tops chunk across the land as far as the eye can see. Fish dart through the water as eagles soar up above while squirrels scurry along the tree. Nature is undisturbed.

The river rolls on like thunderous clouds as people from Asia cross over an ancient bridge made from ice. Cottonwood dugouts float down its waters as the natives hunt for fish with handmade spears thousands of years before the modern world. From the ancient tribes of the Ojibwe up in the north to the Choctaw down in the south, the Mississippi connects us all.

It connects the past of the European explorers. From the Spanish invasion with battles fought between natives and Hernando de Soto, who opened up the mighty river to the old world. The blood flows down in its waters, and the feverish body of de Soto lays to rest in the mighty beast he discovered. The river connects us to the French settlers, whose claims never lasted but whose legacy lives on. From great cities like St. Louis and small ones like Prairie du Chien. Down the hot and vibrant city of New Orleans, where the Acadians settled and morphed into the Cajuns. Where French still thrives in an English country. It watched as guns, germs, and steel infected the natives that had called the river home for thousands of years. It wept as bloodshed continued for hundreds of years.

The Mississippi saw the British takeover. The Seven Years’ War that ravaged the continent as the fight for land not belonging to man continued. The Mississippi saw the battle for independence and the creation of a new nation. It watched the Trail of Tears and cried with his children. The Mississippi carried slaves to freedom and turned red with blood during the Civil War. It reminded us of its strength in the Great Flood of 1927, showing humanity there was still power left in the river we tried to subdue. It watched as the Gulf of Mexico ravaged its land and waters in Hurricane Katrina. It moved into the modern world with us, always reminding us of our connection to the past.

The Algonquin called it “The Father of Waters.” Father, it is indeed. It raises us with its currents and gives us all we need for life. It became a legend and part of history. The characters of Mark Twain live along the river listening to the music of Isaac Hayes. This lifeline moves our resources and drives our culture. Its waters extend into the prairies of the west and the cities of the east, like veins underneath the skin that harness our air like bees capturing pollen from soft flowers. The water is our blood. The water lets us breathe. So, why do we let our life shrivel up and die? Will this river connect us to the future, or will it fade into the past? The Mississippi is our ancient soul that we can save, if only we listen to its call.

 

Works Cited

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Raspberry Island. Saint Paul, Minnesota. (n.d.). https://www.stpaul.gov/departments/parks-and- recreation/harriet-island-regional-park/raspberry-island.

Mississippi River and tributaries, inland waterways system. The Library of Congress. (n.d.). https://www.loc.gov/resource/g4042m.ct011647/?r=- 0.729%2C0.109%2C2.458%2C1.558%2C0.

Ohio River Facts. The Ohio River. (n.d.). http://theohioriver.com/ohio-river-facts/.

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Encyclopædia Britannica, inc. (n.d.). History and economy. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/place/Mississippi-River/History-and-economy#ref39998.

Klinkenberg, D. (2020, September 1). The 70 Million-Year-Old History of the Mississippi River. Smithsonian.com. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/geological-history- mississippi-river-180975509/.

Slamdot, I. (2015, November 12). Agriculture. Mississippi River Collaborative. https://www.msrivercollab.org/focus-areas/agriculture/#B.

Slamdot, I. (2019, August 2). Dead Zone. Mississippi River Collaborative. https://www.msrivercollab.org/focus-areas/dead-zone/.

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Admin. (2021, March 1). Types Of Soil – Sandy Soil, Clay Soil, Silt Soil, And Loamy Soil. BYJUS. https://byjus.com/biology/types-of-soil/.

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Our Life Through the Mississippi