Post by Richard Bryant on Jul 27, 2016 7:41:08 GMT -5
(Layout of Parchman Farm) Area marked in red denotes Parchman Farm's Inner Barricade; inside are the prison dormitories, guard quarters, convict intake & receiving, chow hall, offices, power generation facilities, etc.,etc.,. Area marked in gray denotes the current fields where convicts work, under the supervision of guards on horseback, armed with both crossbows and M14 rifles
...I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above "Have mercy, now save poor Bob, if you please".....
Whoever said one could make a fortune in the lower Mississippi Delta was either a stone liar, a conman, a Delta resident...a Yankee carpetbagger..a lying, thieving politician from Jackson....or a combination of the above, Richard thought as he rode on horseback along the northern perimeter, his eyes watching the horizon for any sign of trouble: bandits, walkers, anything that could post a threat to Parchman Farm. Behind him, several groups of convicts, each chained individually, were working one of the prison's numerous vegetable and cotton fields, where most all of the prison's food and clothing supplies came from.
In addition to him, several other guards, armed with either crossbows or M14 rifles, patrolled both along the perimeter of the area they were in or through the area; the job of the interior guards was to watch the convicts to make sure that, (a) they worked the fields without dissent, (b) they didn't attack one another or stage a fight in order to entrap any guards, or (c) try and attack an guard, the absolute worst thing one could do...in that last case, the guards had shoot-to-kill orders and all of them were trained to shoot at the head 'lest anyone die and then turn on them afterward.
Looking back, he nodded at one of the guards as they rode along one of the paths inside the area they were patrolling; on either side of the path, the convicts were picking vegetables: squash, green beans, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes - most all of which went back to the prison mess hall and was used, along with the occasional head of beef cattle also kept on the farm, to feed everyone...it was a hardscrabble existence, but like most inhabitants of the Delta, you made due with what you had and you didn't waste a single thing, not one thing.
Looking back out towards the horizon, Richard lit a cheroot and drew the smoke into his lungs, blowing it out slowly as he continued riding the perimeter, watching...and wondering whether their little patch of Old Southern civilization was it for this world. Maybe this was what my forebears felt like them damn Yankees came a'marchin' down South, he mused....well, if it was the same feeling, they could deal with them plenty good....
...More lies, more conversation, girl
It really don't matter 'cause I'm not leaving you
So you're hanging with another man
You gotta get more creative, girl, I ain't believing you
Stop trying, stop contaplating, girl
Nothing in this world's gonna make me break
Don't take much more to get me out your life
I ain't Tip Toe Tom, I'mma tell you straight....