Don’t Stop Heading South: How to Explore Vicksburg, Mississippi
Main photo courtesy of Visit Vicksburg. Other photos by Johnny Motley.
I listened to the silvery chorus of cicadas as I drove past the kudzu-covered outskirts of Vicksburg, Mississippi. They say the Delta—the fertile, diamond-shaped flood plain between the Yazoo and Mississippi Rivers—is the Most Southern Place on Earth. And if the South had a primordial sound—the Eternal Om of Dixieland, if you will—it would be the nocturnal hum of insects.
Even after several days here, I couldn’t quite figure out whether Vicksburg was inside or just outside the Mississippi Delta—that moist Mesopotamia immortalized as the nursery of the blues, jazz, and rock ‘n’ roll. The Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers are notorious shape-shifters, so perhaps the Delta’s boundaries are more a matter of opinion than rigorous cartography. I prefer Mississippi writer David L. Cohn’s poetic take: “The Delta begins in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis and ends on Catfish Row in Vicksburg.”
I threw on a Muddy Waters playlist, and just after 11 p.m., I found my destination: Klondyke, an old gas station turned honky-tonk. Earlier in the evening, the bartender at Key City Brewing, Sophia—a flaxen-haired belle with an accent like auditory honey—suggested I check it out. “Google will say it’s permanently closed, but it ain’t,” she assured me. “Just keep drivin’ until you see old-fashioned pumps and neon lights.” After a somber afternoon in Vicksburg National Military Park, a country dive seemed like the perfect antidote.
I ordered a Bud Heavy and took a seat at the bar next to an engineer who had recently relocated from California. Vicksburg reportedly has more PhDs per capita than any other city in America, thanks to the massive presence of the Army Corps of Engineers. On my other side was a lineman clad in camo who had spent the week in Biloxi constructing power lines. Sophia was spot-on; this bar was a gem.
A woman was singing Buckcherry on the karaoke machine, but I hollered for “Mississippi Queen” until the DJ finally gave in. To my horror, the bartender—a country gal who looked like she could kick my soft Brooklyn ass six ways to Sunday—insisted I get up and sing. Hell, I thought, I’ll dedicate the performance to the gracious city of Vicksburg and to Sophia—two Mississippi Queens if there ever was one.
What to Do in Vicksburg
Vicksburg, halfway between Memphis and New Orleans, has long been a bustling entrepôt on the Mississippi River—that twisting, muddy snake with its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico and its tail buried in the prairie. As I recalled from eighth-grade American History, the Siege of Vicksburg—a hellish, 47-day Union assault on the heavily fortified city—was a crucial turning point in the Civil War. The fall of Vicksburg split the Confederacy in half, allowing the Union to control the Mississippi and block supply lines from Texas, Arkansas, and Louisiana.
Vicksburg National Military Park, the battlefield where the bloody siege unfolded, draws half a million visitors each year. Before touring the grounds, stop by the Visitor Center to watch a 20-minute film about the siege and its aftermath. Ranger-guided tours via vehicle are the best way to cover the park’s 1,800 acres of rolling hills, woods, and monuments—check online for tour schedules. If you opt for a self-guided tour, download the National Parks Service app for audio guides to the sites.
Find sweet espresso succor at Highway 61 Coffeehouse, then spend the morning perusing the antebellum architecture, quirky shops, and galleries of Washington Street. Echoes of New Orleans, 200 miles downriver, reverberate throughout Vicksburg, and Washington Street’s wrought-iron balconies wouldn’t be out of place in the French Quarter. Also like New Orleans, open-container laws don’t bind Vicksburg, so grab an icy refresher for the walk from Daiquiri Hub or Key City Brewery.
For those inclined to games of chance, a handful of handsome riverboat casinos adorn the Port of Vicksburg. The floating casinos—as large as Carnival cruise liners—also boast hotel rooms, fine dining, and music venues. I am not much of a gambler, fortunately (?), but I enjoyed walking around Ameristar Casino for the people-watching and views of the sunset over the river. The bar on board had an impressive selection of flashy bourbons, too.
Like Santa Fe or Boulder, Vicksburg, with its charming ambiance and relaxed pace of life, is an artist’s haven. Washington Street has a clutch of excellent galleries, and H.C. Porter Gallery offers both an aesthetic treat and deep dive into Mississippi’s Blues history. H.C Porter travels throughout Mississippi to capture the wizened faces of aging bluesmen.
