There She Is... My Mississippi Memory

Up here in New Hampshire, June is a lovely, quiet affair. The world is a deep, lush green, the evenings are cool, and the biggest event on the calendar is school getting out. But this week, my heart—and my entire social media feed—is 1,400 miles away, right back home in Vicksburg, Mississippi.

Because this week is Miss Mississippi week.

For those who didn’t grow up steeped in Southern culture, that might not mean much. But I’ll let the great philosopher Suzanne Sugarbaker from Designing Women explain it. She once said, "Run through all the Miss Mississippis in your head and see if you can name an ugly one. See, you can’t. And I’ll tell you why—because in Miss Mississippi people know how to do 'pretty.'"

When I first heard that line living in Georgia, it was just a funny quote. Then we moved to Mississippi, and I learned just how true it was.

Beyond the Sequins and the Summer Heat

My first real taste of "the pageant," as we lovingly call it, was working the annual Miss Mississippi parade with one of my favorite people on the planet, Rosalie Theobald. The task sounds simple: on the Monday of competition week, load all the beautiful contestants into convertibles to be driven through downtown Vicksburg.

Now, picture this: historically, this was the week of the 4th of July. Imagine the most humid, sweltering, melt-your-makeup-off day of the year. That’s when we’d be outside, carefully guiding these young women in full-length evening gowns, with stage-perfect hair and makeup, into scorching hot cars. For the life of me, I never understood why they couldn’t just wear cute shorts and sparkly sneakers.

But of course, I do know why. Who wants to see the future Miss Mississippi in athletic wear when you can see her in head-to-toe sparkles, a crown, and all the regalia a queen deserves?

Over my 20 years working at the Vicksburg Convention Center, I learned that these queens are so much more than just a pretty face in a hot parade. They aren't all fluff and beauty. These women have serious brains. We’re talking about a countless number over the years that have gone on to become doctors, lawyers, and entrepreneurs. Truly—my very first queen now works for Mattel and has literally portrayed Barbie in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. They are all gorgeous, whip-smart, talented, and—this is the most important part—incredibly kind.

The Pageant Family

When I started, I was sure I’d witness some kind of backstage catfight. I was ready for drama! But in two decades, I never saw it. Not once. Instead, I saw a sisterhood. The contestants were kind, genuinely supportive, and cheered each other on all week long.

I attribute this amazing spirit to the incredible people who run the organization and the army of volunteers. Each contestant is assigned a "hostess"—a position I still aspire to attain one day. These women are the ultimate moms-away-from-home. Whatever the girls need, wherever they need to go, these ladies make it happen with grace and a smile. So many of them were there long before I started and are still there this very week.

From the backstage crew to the decision-makers at the top, I loved them all. The production crew, made up of volunteers from all over the country, gives up two weeks of their lives to come build a world-class stage. I would put the Miss Mississippi production up against any show, anywhere—they’ve won Emmys, for goodness’ sake! They are a family. A loud, tired, wonderfully talented family that I miss terribly.

My Bittersweet Final Curtain Call

To tell you just how much that week and those people meant to me, I’ll share a little secret. When my husband and I made the final decision to move to New England, I held off on giving my notice at work. I timed it specifically so I could work one last Miss Mississippi.

That final pageant week was so bittersweet. It was my chance to see everyone, to hug them tight, and to say a final farewell to all the special people I’d gotten to know over the years. It was the perfect, glittering, emotional end to my Mississippi chapter.

So as my phone buzzes with updates from Vicksburg, I’m sitting here in the cool New England air, reminiscing. As they say in show business, the show must go on, and so must life. But it sure is nice to have memories that sparkle this brightly.

And trust me on this: if you’ve never been to a Miss Mississippi competition, you need to add it to your bucket list. Put it right up there with seeing a show on Broadway. It’s that good. (Side note... the picture is of me and my OGs- they were there day one when I started- awesome guys- you might see them if you attend a Martina McBride concert)