OurTupelo

At the midpoint of the three-month legislative session, two leading lawmakers say they are working to ensure tens of millions of state opioid settlement dollars are spent to address addiction.

House Public Health and Human Services Chairman Sam Creekmore, a Republican from New Albany, and Sen. Nicole Boyd, a Republican from Oxford, have both sponsored bills that would change the state’s opioid settlement laws. Now that the bills have each passed one chamber, Creekmore said he plans to meet with Boyd to figure out what new provisions would lead to more responsible local spending of the settlement money. 

Since 2022, 147 towns, cities and counties throughout Mississippi have been receiving money from national opioid lawsuits, cases that charged about a dozen companies with contributing to over 10,000 Mississippi overdose deaths. When first arguing these cases, lawyers for Mississippi said money was needed to address the public health epidemic the companies created.

But when those local governments signed on to the lawsuits, Mississippi Attorney General Lynn Fitch told them they could spend their shares on any public purpose without reporting how those dollars were used. Those shares are expected to total over $60 million by 2040, but Fitch’s arrangement wasn’t widely publicized until September, when Mississippi Today published results of its months-long investigation into spending. 

The Mississippi Today investigation found that local government officials had received over $15.5 million in opioid settlements but spent less than $1 million on ways to prevent more overdoses. Cities and counties had spent around $5.4 million on other expenses, mostly to supplement their general budgets.

Jane Clair Tyner, a Pine Belt resident whose son died while struggling with opioid addiction, said it wasn’t until speaking with Mississippi Today last year that she learned cities and counties could spend their money on purchases unrelated to addiction.

“It was a literal punch in my gut when I read that,” Tyner said. “It was a desecration to every grave that every parent in this state has mourned over, of their lost child to this epidemic.” 

When asked why Fitch made this decision, her office has said the opioid epidemic cost the U.S. hundreds of billions of dollars, and the lawsuits allowed for some settlement money to repay governments for past expenses. A spokesperson for her office didn’t respond to an email asking for Fitch’s thoughts on new legislative efforts.

A few weeks after the investigation was published, Creekmore said he wanted to address the problem. On Mississippi Today’s “The Other Side” podcast, he said he would look to pass legislation that would change how local governments could spend their opioid settlement shares. 

On Wednesday, Creekmore restated his commitment to creating requirements for local governments to address addiction. He said he doesn’t want the legislation to be too cumbersome for small cities and counties with few resources. 

New laws, he said, should include examples of organizations doing overdose prevention work that local officials can send settlement money to — such as community mental health centers. He’s also looking for ways to bring in a third party to oversee how cities and counties spend their funds.

“They’re concerned how they spend the money, and they’re looking for guidance,” he said. “Even some of the larger cities.”

Boyd said she and the other senators plan to follow Creekmore and the House’s lead on reforming opioid settlement laws. 

When Mississippi Today told Tyner about Creekmore’s plan to eliminate using local opioid settlement dollars on general expenses, she said she felt hopeful. But she’s seen guidelines intended to ensure this money gets spent on addressing addiction leave room for loopholes in other states, and she hopes future laws will ensure money gets spent on addressing addiction beyond giving unrestricted money to mental health centers.

While Tyner appreciates legislators’ avoiding the creation of cumbersome requirements for small town officials, she said preventing overdoses takes nuanced approaches. 

“It is a complex issue,” she said. “So the manner in which we approach it to fix it cannot be simple.” 

Copiah County Administrator David Engel said he’s hopeful that legislators provide clear pathways to spending this money responsibly. He and the Board of Supervisors used about $74,000 in April to help fund the local drug court, but he said Copiah County has about $76,000 of additional settlement money that officials don’t want to spend until they hear how it could be used to prevent more overdoses. 

Engel said if the state provided more examples of how this funding should be used, he would be willing to do extra work to track and publicize how Copiah County spends the money. 

“I don’t mind jumping through the hoops as long as I get a little clarity,” he said. 

But Engel also knows that the state is in its fourth year of receiving funds. Over 1,700 Mississippians have died of overdoses since the state received its first settlement check, and he believes this money could have saved some of those lives had cities and counties known how to use it effectively.

“I don’t think there’s any question as to that.”

To be clear, many Mississippi lawmakers believe millions of dollars of special-interest, dark money flowing in to influence an election here is terrible, and they won’t stand for it.

That is, it’s terrible if its flowing into an election for something voters put directly on a ballot, sidestepping the Legislature.

But millions of dollars of such money flowing practically unchecked into politicians’ campaigns and, according to federal prosecutors, pockets – well, apparently that’s not so bad.

The Senate last week killed a measure to reinstate voters’ right to put something directly on a ballot. Opponents’ main reason voiced for killing it was that special interests with deep pockets could too easily influence Mississippi voters on such issues.

But both the Senate and House – with a rare show of bipartisanship – also killed measures aimed at regulating and reporting to the public the flow of special-interest and dark money into Mississippi campaigns for political office.

It appears the state is on track to continue to have some of the weakest, least enforced campaign finance laws and disclosure. It’s also on track to not reinstate voters’ right to put issues on a ballot that they had until five years ago when a court invalidated it over technical issues.

Some highlights from a busy week that included a deadline for floor passage of bills:

• A bill to force more Mississippi governments and law enforcement to cooperate with federal immigration authorities drew fierce debate before passing the House on a mostly party-line vote.

• The House passed two major alcohol-related bills. One would allow direct shipment of liquor to Mississippians’ homes, and another that would allow local governments to pass ordinances allowing the sale of alcohol on Sundays.

• With some constituents still without power three weeks after Winter Storm Fern, some lawmakers blasted the state’s response to the disaster during debate over a measure to create a disaster recovery loan program.

Quote of the Week

“Gentleman, I’m not chasing, I’m not going down that rabbit hole with you and we’re not going to hop around that. You’re dancing, but you ain’t got a dance partner.” – Rep. Joey Hood of Ackerman, responding to Rep. Jeffery Harness of Fayette, who asked Hood, “What kind of coward walks around with a mask on and makes arrests?” Hood was presenting a bill to prevent any Mississippi government or law enforcement agency from interfering with federal ICE agents.

In Brief

Closed primaries amendment thwarted

Sen. Kathy Chism, a Republican from New Albany, has for several years unsuccessfully pushed legislation to have closed party primaries in Mississippi, with her measures typically dying without a committee vote.

Last week, Chism attempted to force a vote on the issue with an amendment to another elections bill. But Sen. Derrick Simmons, a Democrat from Greenville, successfully challenged the amendment as not germane to the bill. Some states have closed primaries, where only people registered with a political party can vote for its nominees. There has been debate over closing Mississippi primaries for years.

“Closed primaries are not only wanted, but needed in Mississippi,” Chism said. “With closed primaries, each party would control its choice of candidate without interference from the other party in the primary election.” – Geoff Pender

Lawmakers: Proposed public records exemptions overly broad

Lawmakers realized a House bill that could allow more information to be withheld from public records requests is “overly broad,” said Rep. Daryl Porter, a Democrat and Vice Chairman of the House Accountability, Efficiency and Transparency committee.

Porter amended House Bill 1468 on the floor to require more scrutiny of the bill before it could be passed into law and said lawmakers plan to change it.

The bill from Republican Rep. Brent Anderson of Bay St. Louis adds broad definitions of “personally identifiable” and “protected” information to the Mississippi Public Records Act. The bill covers any information that could identify an individual alone or when combined with other information and explicitly requires government agencies to conduct a case-by-case assessment on records requests. – Michael Goldberg

Chambers pass apprenticeship bills

The House and Senate passed two nearly identical bills that would give the state direct oversight of workforce apprenticeship programs.

Under the measures, the state would create its own Office of Apprenticeship within the Mississippi Department of Employment Security. The office would take over approval and oversight of registered apprenticeship programs. Currently, the U.S. Department of Labor is responsible.

The framework of the bills is very similar, although there are slight differences, including, the number of people on an advisory board and the deadline for registering the state office with the federal government. Gov. Tate Reeves proposed this transition in his 2027 executive budget recommendations. He wrote that this change would, “reduce federal bureaucracy and improve employer and stakeholder engagement.” – Katherine Lin

Education measures die with deadline

A number of education bills died with a Thursday deadline, including legislation that would have impacted teachers and school board members. 

One House bill authored by Rep. Jansen Owen, a Republican from Poplarville, would have prohibited teachers who have sex with students from resigning, instead requiring their termination. 

Another bill would have removed appointed school board member positions. All school board members, under the bill, would be elected. Owen said the legislation aimed to address parent sentiment that school boards are not held accountable. 

A Senate bill that died would have also kept a closer eye on school board members. Senate Bill 2306 would have tasked a commission with governing the conduct of school board members and created a framework for sanctioning school members found to be in violation. 

Most charter school teachers would have no longer been exempt from the state’s educational qualification requirements under another Senate bill that didn’t make it off the floor. Some senators have been publicly critical of the state’s charter schools, most of which are rated “D” or “F.” – Devna Bose

Bills address unused school buildings

A couple of bills passed by both chambers could make it easier for districts to get rid of unused school buildings. 

It’s a problem particularly pronounced in Democratic Sen. David Blount’s district, which includes Jackson. 

Jackson Public Schools has closed a handful of school buildings in recent years due to declining enrollment. However, state law has made it difficult to sell them, Blount said, because if the building is used for a purpose other than a school, ownership reverts back to the school district. 

Senate Bill 2515 allows for alternative use of the buildings and establishes a timeline for charter schools to make a decision about building purchases.

“I’m not a fan of charter schools, but if you have a closed school building, it makes sense to look at it first as a school,” Blount said. “Current law does not have an end date on when that right may be exercised. This simply puts a termination date on that right of refusal.”

A similar bill, House Bill 1395, has also passed that chamber.  – Devna Bose

Proposal would take casino winnings for child support

Mississippi lawmakers are considering taking casino jackpots from parents who owe child support.

Similar bills from the House and Senate would have casinos withhold winnings from deadbeat parents — Senate Bill 2369 and House Bill 520. The proposals would require casinos to check a state database of people in arears on child support before paying out jackpots. – Mississippi Today

By the Numbers

$50 million

Amount lawmakers said they plan to request to fund a disaster recovery emergency loan program to aid Mississippi counties included in the recent federal disaster declaration from Winter Storm Fern.

More Legislative Coverage

Prison health care reform measures clear the House

The Mississippi House passed several bills this week aimed at improving the quality of medical care in Mississippi prisons and developing stronger oversight of health care delivery. Read the story.

School consolidation bill dies without a vote in Mississippi Senate

Senate Bill 2486 would’ve tasked a committee within the Mississippi Department of Education with recommending school district consolidations and established a framework for future mergers. Read the story.

Pro tem Kirby says ‘We couldn’t find anybody who supported it’ when school choice bill got to Senate

Senate President Pro tem Dean Kirby, a Republican from Pearl, gives an update on school choice, state support for areas devastated by the winter storm, and serving in the position known as “the senators’ senator.” Listen to the podcast.

Mississippians will not have access to a system to place statewide issues on a ballot, at least for another year. But they might soon be able to more easily see who funds politicians’ campaigns. 

Thursday was the deadline for the Mississippi Legislature to pass some bills in the full Senate or House. Those that were not approved by one chamber or another died, although lawmakers can sometimes revive measures by amending bills that lived. 

Elections and voting issues are some of the hottest debated policy items at the Capitol. For the fifth straight year, lawmakers failed to agree on a way to restore Mississippi’s ballot initiative. Each year in recent years, lawmakers push to reform Mississippi’s election laws and notorious lax campaign finance laws. But these efforts over the last several years, including this current session, have mostly sputtered.  

Here is a list of where election-related bills stand during so far in the 2026 legislative session: 

Strengthening campaign finance laws

Lawmakers advanced Senate Bill 2558 from the Senate Elections Committee, but it did not have enough support to pass the full chamber. 

Senate Elections Chairman Jeremy England, a Republican from Vancleave, told Mississippi Today on Thursday that many senators thought the legislation was changing too many parts of campaign finance laws too quickly. 

The measure would have clarified that the secretary of state’s office has the power to investigate campaign finance violations and the attorney general would prosecute them. 

It would also have required candidates to have a bank account for their campaign money and clarified that out-of-state corporations are subject to a $1,000 a year donation limit. 

The House Elections Committee previously killed a similar House bill earlier in the session. 

The Robert Clarke Jr. Voting Rights Act

Several Democratic lawmakers pushed legislative leaders to pass a state version of the federal Voting Rights Act, but the measures died in both the House and Senate. 

Supporters said the proposal was designed to safeguard minority voting rights, as the U.S. Supreme Court has indicated it will reconsider provisions of the federal Voting Rights Act and has already overturned some.

The state legislation would have prohibited dilution of minority voters, established a Mississippi Voting Rights Commission, and required some jurisdictions to obtain preclearance approval from the commission for changes to voting regulations.  

The bills were named in honor of Robert G. Clark Jr., who in 1967 became the first Black Mississippian elected to the state Legislature in the modern era.

Proof of citizenship to vote 

The House and Senate have passed bills that could make it more onerous for people without a driver’s license to register to vote, a proposal legislative leaders have said would allow local elections officials to verify a person’s citizenship.

The Safeguard Honest Integrity in Elections for Lasting Democracy, or SHIELD, Act would require county registrars to conduct extra checks on people who try to register to vote without a driver’s license number. 

Under the bill, if someone tried to register and could not produce a license number, the clerk would have to verify whether the person appears in a U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services database called SAVE. Government agencies use the federal database to verify an applicant’s immigration status or citizenship.

The bill would also require election officials to notify applicants flagged as non-citizens and require them to prove citizenship.

Mandatory online filing for campaign finance 

Although substantive campaign finance reform did not gain traction, the Senate passed a bill that would require every candidate in the state to file a campaign finance report online, as is required in most states. 

Secretary of State Michael Watson’s office plans to unveil a new system on its website that will allow people to view campaign finance reports more easily, similar to the Federal Election Commission’s website for congressional and presidential candidates and systems in most other states. 

Senate Elections Chairman Jeremy England said the aim of the bill is to pair with Watson’s new online system. 

Currently, candidates can submit handwritten campaign finance reports, some of which are illegible and hard to decipher and the system is not easily searchable or sortable. 

While the final chapter is far from being written, it appears that the primary focus of the 2026 Mississippi legislative session will be teacher pay instead of school choice.

Nearly all of the talk before the three-month session began in early January was centered on the plans of House Speaker Jason White and Gov. Tate Reeves to greatly expand programs providing public funds to private schools. But support for the proposal has been lukewarm in White’s House and it appears to be practically non-existent in the Senate.

On the other hand, the Senate has passed a proposal to provide a $2,000 per year pay raise for kindergarten through 12th grade teachers and faculty at the community college and university level. The House has proposed an annual $5,000 pay raise for K-12 teachers.

No House or Senate member has voted against the teacher pay proposals. The two Republican-controlled chambers have to agree on a single plan to send to the governor. If the final number agreed to by legislators is closer to the speaker’s House plan, it would be one of the larger teacher pay increases in the state’s history.

Legislative leaders, especially Lt. Gov. Delbert Hosemann, who presides over the Senate, have been out front on the issue. Before the session began, Hosemann was advocating for a pay raise for Mississippi teachers, who are perennially at or near the bottom nationally when compared to teacher pay in other states.

On the other hand, Gov. Reeves has been quiet on the issue of a teacher pay raise.

Governors spell out their legislative priorities in their annual budget proposal, but in his document released before the 2026 session began, Reeves said nary a word about a teacher pay raise.

In terms of education, he focused on expanding school choice and charter schools and providing additional work force training.

Based on his public comments, Reeves has not been an advocate for what is potentially the biggest issue of the session.

Perhaps the governor, seeing the interest in a teacher pay raise in the Legislature, intended to talk about and even endorse the issue in his annual State of the State address. But thus far, his speech to a joint session of the Legislature has not come to fruition. It was scheduled for Feb. 4, but postponed after a massive ice storm pummeled the Delta and north Mississippi.

Whether the speech will be rescheduled remains to be seen. If not, it would mark the first time in modern memory for a Mississippi governor to eschew the State of the State.

This is not the first time Reeves has neglected the issue of a teacher pay raise.

In the 2019 campaign for governor, then-Lt. Gov. Reeves and the Democratic nominee, then-Attorney General Jim Hood, both proposed major pay raises for teachers.

But in his first budget proposal after becoming governor, Reeves did not include a teacher pay raise as a legislative priority, though he said it was important after reporters asked his office about it.

Despite Reeves leaving a pay raise out of his budget proposal for the 2020 session, the Legislature passed a $1,000 teacher pay raise for the fiscal year that began July 1 of that year. Reeves posted about the pay raise on social media as he signed it into law.

The next year, the state had unprecedented revenue reserves thanks in large part to federal COVID-19 spending, allowing the Legislature to pass a much larger pay raise of about $5,100. Reeves advocated for a smaller pay bump that year, but bragged as he signed the bill into law that the raise exceeded the $4,000 per year increase he promised on the 2019 campaign trail.

No doubt, Reeves will sign any teacher pay raise likely to be passed by the Legislature this session. And it is likely he will do so with a lot of pomp and circumstance, even though he has been quiet on the issue thus far.

WASHINGTON — Billions of American chestnut trees once covered the eastern United States. They soared in height, producing so many nuts that sellers moved them by train car. Every Christmas, they’re called to mind by the holiday lyric “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.”

But by the 1950s, this venerable tree went functionally extinct, culled by a deadly airborne fungal blight and lethal root rot. A new study published Thursday in the journal Science provides hope for its revitalization, finding that the genetic testing of individual trees can reveal which are most likely to resist disease and grow tall, thus shortening how long it takes to plant the next, more robust, generation.

A smaller gap between generations means a faster path to lots of disease-resistant trees that will once again be able to compete for space in Eastern forests. The authors hope that can occur in the coming decades.

“What’s new here is the engine that we’re creating for restoration,” said Jared Westbrook, lead author and director of science at The American Chestnut Foundation, which wants to return the tree to its native range that once stretched from Maine to Mississippi.

The American chestnut, sometimes called the “redwood of the East,” can grow quickly and reach more than 100 feet, produce prodigious amounts of nutritious chestnuts and supply lumber favored for its straight grain and durability.

But it had little defense against foreign-introduced blight and root rot. Another type of chestnut, however, had evolved alongside those diseases. The Chinese chestnut had been introduced for its valuable nuts and it could resist diseases. But it isn’t as tall or competitive in U.S. forests, nor has it served the same critical role supporting other species.

So, the authors want a tree with the characteristics of the American chestnut and the disease resistance of the Chinese chestnut.

That goal is not new — scientists have been reaching for it for decades and made some progress.

But it has been difficult because the American chestnut’s desirable traits are scattered across multiple spots along its genome, the DNA string that tells the tree how to develop and function.

“It’s a very complex trait, and in that case, you can’t just select on one thing because you’ll select on linked things that are negative,” said John Lovell, senior author and researcher at the HudsonAlpha Genome Sequencing Center.

Breed for disease resistance alone and the trees get shorter, less competitive.

To deal with this, the authors sequenced the genome of multiple types of chestnuts and found the many places that correlated with the desired traits. They can then use that information to breed trees that are more likely to have desirable traits while maintaining high amounts of American chestnut DNA — roughly 70% to 85%.

And genetic testing allows the process to move faster, revealing the best offspring years before their traits would be demonstrated by natural growth and encountering disease. The closer the gap between generations, the faster gains accumulate.

Steven Strauss, a professor of forest biotechnology at Oregon State University who wasn’t involved in the study, said the paper identified some promising genes. He wants scientists to be able to edit the genes themselves, a possibly faster, more precise path to a better tree. In an accompanying commentary piece in Science, he says regulations can bog down these ideas for years.

“People just won’t consider biotech because it is on the other side of this social, legal barrier” and that’s shortsighted, he said.

For people who have closely studied the American chestnut, the work begs an almost existential question: How much can the American chestnut be changed and still be an American chestnut?

“The American chestnut has a unique evolutionary history, it has a specific place in the North American ecosystem,” said Donald Edward Davis, author of the American chestnut, an environmental history. “Having that tree and no other trees would be sort of the gold standard.”

He said the tree was a keystone species, useful to humans and vital to bigger populations of squirrels, chipmunks and black bears — hybrids might not be as majestic or effective. He was pleased that the authors included some surviving American chestnuts in their proposal, but favored an approach that relied on them more heavily.

“Not that the hybrid approach is itself bad, it is just that why not try to get the wild American trees back in the forest, back in the ecosystem, and exhaust all possibilities from doing that before we move on to some of these other methods?” he said.

Lovells said resurrecting the species requires introducing genetic diversity from outside the traditional pool of American chestnut trees. The study authors’ goal is tall, resilient trees and they are optimistic.

“I think if we only select American chestnut (tree genes), period, there’s going to be too small of a pool and we’re going to end up with a genetic bottleneck that will lead to extinction in the future,” said Lovell.

The Southern Environmental Law Center and Earthjustice are threatening to sue Elon Musk’s xAI on behalf of the NAACP, claiming the company’s power generation in Southaven violates the federal Clean Air Act.

In a letter on Friday, the center argues that xAI’s operation of “mobile-temporary” turbines in Southaven without air permits are polluting the air in Southaven and the greater Memphis area. 

“xAI is running a de facto power plant without an air permit, without necessary pollution controls, and without regard for families living as close as a half mile away,” said Laura Thoms, enforcement director for Earthjustice in a statement.

xAI, an artificial intelligence company valued at $250 billion, began building its first data center in Memphis in 2024. Since then it has started to build another center in Memphis, bought a power plant in Mississippi and recently announced that it had purchased a warehouse in Southaven to build another data center. According to county records, the company purchased additional property this month.

The company began operating the temporary turbines at the former Duke Energy power plant in Southaven as early as mid-August to power its data centers.

While Mississippians have expressed concern over noise and potential air pollution from the turbines, the number of turbines have increased. The company started with 18 but is now operating 27 at the site. 

The Mississippi Department of Environmental Quality has said the turbines fall under an exemption that allows temporary turbines to operate without a permit, as long as they do so for less than a year. MDEQ has said the turbines have “air pollution control devices.”

xAI is in the process of applying for air permits to operate 41 permanent turbines in Mississippi. MDEQ is holding a public hearing on Tuesday in Southaven where members of the public can comment on the proposal.

In January, Gov. Tate Reeves announced that xAI would be building another data center, in Mississippi. “This is the largest economic development project in Mississippi’s history,” Reeves said in a statement. 

There are five data center projects in Mississippi, including xAI. Such data centers are popping up all over the South, driven by the artificial intelligence boom.

Proponents say these projects are creating jobs, driving demand for Mississippi construction companies, paying for upgrades to the electric grid and adding tens of millions in taxes to local governments.

But critics say the centers create relatively few permanent jobs, demand large amounts of energy that could drive up customers’ rates and that they receive overly generous tax abatements from the state. Despite recent concerns over an AI bubble, economic development leaders across the state have said that companies continue to be interested in building data centers in the state and that more may be coming.

A bill that would have paved the way for more school district consolidations in Mississippi died this week. 

It’s a surprising outcome for an issue that gained momentum during the months leading up to the legislative session, which has been headlined by education policy. 

Senate Bill 2486 would’ve tasked a committee within the Mississippi Department of Education with recommending school district consolidations and established a framework for future mergers. 

However, the legislation lacked the votes it needed to survive, said Senate Education Committee Chairman Dennis DeBar, a Republican from Leakesville. Both the House and the Senate had until Thursday night to pass bills originating in their respective chambers. 

“I would’ve liked to have brought it up, but I just didn’t have enough support on the floor for it,” he said. 

Gov. Tate Reeves said over the summer that he wanted the Legislature to consider consolidating some of the state’s 138 school districts, and House Education Committee Chairman Rob Roberson, a Republican from Starkville, has been steadfast in his support of consolidation. Two school systems in Roberson’s district consolidated in 2015 — Starkville School District and Oktibbeha County School District.

Still, consolidation is controversial. Though the student population has been declining in Mississippi for years, generational ties to schools in some communities makes school closures difficult and emotionally fraught.  

There have been 10 school district consolidations since 2014, according to the Mississippi Department of Education’s website. While school districts have the authority to consolidate schools within their own district, the consolidation of different school districts requires direction from the Legislature.  

“School consolidation issues are always troublesome for some legislators,” DeBar said. “They’re all for it, but not in my district. I think that was the concern. Some were concerned their district would be consolidated.”

DeBar added that he’s still interested in seeing if there are ways he can address the issue before the session concludes in April. Even if a piece of legislation dies, lawmakers can try to insert language into similar bills. 

The House’s big education bill that died in DeBar’s committee earlier this month would have immediately consolidated two Mississippi school districts and similarly provided a stronger framework for future consolidations.

PITTSBORO — If NCAA lawyers didn’t know they were in for a long Thursday in court, they got a strong hint early on.

Chad Logan, pastor of First Baptist Church of nearby Calhoun City, began proceedings with a prayer for wisdom and clarity on the part of the court that was considering a dispute over the college sports eligibility of Trinidad Chambliss. Logan praised the Ole Miss quarterback “for his unwavering faith we’ve observed, with him praying with his mom.”

Speaking passionately as if from the Sunday pulpit, Logan ended his prayer: “We know you are the God who has extended to us eternal salvation. … You extended King Hezekiah’s life for 15 years. So since you specialize in extensions, we are asking for one more extension here today. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”

Said one of Chambliss’ lawyers during a break later in the day, “I didn’t know if it was a prayer or a closing argument.” Said one of the NCAA lawyers, “If God is against us, we’re in trouble.”

It took about eight hours of sometimes tedious testimony and arguments, but the preacher’s fervent prayer – and that of tens of thousands of Ole Miss football fans – was answered.

Chancery Judge Robert Whitwell ruled for Chambliss and against the NCAA, granting Chambliss a temporary restraining order and in essence another year of football eligibility at Ole Miss.

Late Thursday afternoon, Judge Whitwell took nearly 90 minutes to read his 35-page decision, in the end sparking applause from those in attendance and smiles, backslaps and hugs from Chambliss, his mother, his lawyers and Ole Miss quarterbacks coach Joe Judge.

Later, a still-smiling Chambliss signed autographs and posed for photos with many of those who had been in the courtroom.

And so it is that Chambliss likely will quarterback the Rebels when they open the 2026 season against Louisville Sept. 5 in Nashville. Chambliss, a remarkably nimble and resourceful 23-year-old from Michigan, passed for nearly 4,000 yards and accounted for 30 touchdowns in leading Ole Miss to a school record 13 victories, the national semifinals and an end-of-season ranking of 3rd in the nation — its highest ranking since 1962. Chambliss will enter the season as one of four or five favorites to win the Heisman Trophy.

The NCAA earlier this year denied Chambliss’ request for a sixth year of college football eligibility, and almost surely will appeal Judge Whitwell’s decision. But legal proceedings could easily last into 2027, at which time Chambliss will have completed his college career.

Lawyers for the NCAA left the court immediately after final arguments and did not wait around for the Whitwell’s lengthy decision. Clearly miffed, Whitwell said he would consider holding them in contempt. “That’s not the way things are done,” he said.

‘The biggest trial we’ve had’

I have lived in Mississippi for 72 years, and this was my first visit to Pittsboro (population 157), a tiny village that sits on Highway 9 about halfway in between the larger Calhoun County towns of Calhoun City and Bruce. Visitors are welcomed by one of those gigantic, 200-foot tall crosses we see across the Bible Belt. City Hall, just down the street from the courthouse, is about the size of a three-car garage.

Readers, as I did, might wonder: Why is tiny Pittsboro the county seat? The answer: Pittsboro wasn’t always so small. At the turn of the 20th century, it was a bustling railroad town. Calhoun County Sheriff Greg Pollin says that while Bruce and Calhoun City vied to be the county seat, a compromise was struck “and they put it right slap dab in the middle of them.”

Why Pittsboro for Trinidad Chambliss vs. the NCAA, you ask? The case was filed in Lafayette County, where the University of Mississippi is located. Answer: Lafayette and Calhoun are two of five counties served by the state’s 18th Chancery Court District. When lawyers for both sides were queried for possible dates for this hearing, they settled on Feb. 12, when Whitwell was holding court in Pittsboro.

Said Sheriff Collin, “This is by far the biggest trial we’ve had in the 14 years I’ve been the sheriff.”

If the population of Pittsboro is 157, there were nearly that many folks in courtroom Thursday. The place was packed with media crammed into what is normally the jury box. Two local high schools brought classes. Many Ole Miss fans came dressed in school colors of red and blue. As neutral sites go, this surely wasn’t.

William Liston III of Ridgeland-based Liston & Deas handled most of proceedings for Chambliss. Doug Minor, formerly of Jackson, was the lead attorney for the NCAA. Said Liston, “I got this case on January 9th and I haven’t slept much since.”

To say Liston was thorough is to say the Mississippi River is rather wide. He called four witnesses to the stand: Dr. Bradford Dye, an Oxford ear, nose and throat specialist; Ole Miss offensive coach Joe Judge; Trinidad’s mother Cheryl Chambliss; and Chambliss himself.

Dye, an Ole Miss grad and avid fan, testified about the seriousness of the illnesses that caused Chambliss to miss the 2022 football season at Ferris State in Michigan.

Cheryl Chambliss also testified about how seriously ill her son was at the time, as did Chambliss himself.

Coach Judge basically testified that Chambliss would benefit greatly from another year of college ball before turning pro.

Chambliss also testified that he believed he was receiving a medical redshirt when he didn’t play in 2022.

NCAA lawyers, who called no witnesses, argued that in denying Chambliss’ appeal for one more year of eligibility, the organization was only enforcing the rules that Ole Miss, an NCAA member, has agreed to abide by.

Whitwell said in his decision that the NCAA had acted in bad faith, writing that “the NCAA’s history of inconsistent waiver decision undermines the fairness of the process here. The NCAA never really sought the truth in its investigation.”

Whitwell ruled that the harm to Chambliss outweighs the harm an injunction might to do the NCAA. If the NCAA appeals Whitwell’s decision, the case could eventually reach the Mississippi Supreme Court, where several justices are graduates of either Ole Miss, the Ole Miss law school or both.

Good luck there.

Editor’s note: The essay is part of Mississippi Today Ideas, a platform for thoughtful Mississippians to share fact-based ideas about our state’s past, present and future. You can read more about the section here.

On the day I am writing this, Monday, Feb. 2, 2026, I sit in Georgia in a warm home surrounded by my three dogs, my partner and my best friend. Tonight, I will make my partner’s favorite soup – cioppino, a fish stew developed in San Francisco by Italian and Spanish immigrants.

Yesterday, I drove from my mother’s home in Lake Village, Arkansas, to my home in Oxford, Mississippi, before heading on to Georgia. I had not seen my home in Oxford since Friday, Jan. 23.

As Winter Storm Fern approached, as forecasters issued dire warnings for the storm’s potential impact on northern Mississippi, my mother called me Thursday, Jan. 22, telling me to drive to her house the next day. “You remember 1994,” she asked, “when we were without power for seven days huddled around a fireplace cooking beans on a camper stove?” Yes, I said, I remembered. “Well, I would come here now if I were you. We’ve got a generator.”

No matter how old I am, like a good son, I listened to mama. It wasn’t guaranteed that Lake Village would be spared, and to be clear, we were iced in on undrivable roads for a good 72 hours. (Those who live their daily lives across rivers know that traveling over an icy bridge, especially the scale of the ones that crisscross the mighty Mississippi, is hubris, a folly).

But as we now know, Fern wreaked the most havoc on a very specific strip of interstate geography, stretching from northeast Louisiana into the Mississippi Delta up through Oxford and northeast Mississippi and on up to Nashville, Tennessee. Fortunately, my mother’s house in southeast Arkansas never lost power, and my decision to leave Oxford proved to be a fortunate one.  

On Sunday, Feb. 1, nine days later, I was finally able to return to my home in Oxford. Full of anxiety, I drove up the county road to the east of Oxford. Limbs and detritus covered the roadside. Tree damage in Fern’s hardest hit areas like Oxford will take months if not years to document. It is immeasurable and catastrophic.

As I rounded the crest of the hill atop which my house sits, I began to see the house’s gold siding peeking through the tree line on my right. On my left, I first saw a pine tree still bending in submission to the elements, struggling but defiant in its efforts to stand tall again. Further ahead, in front of my house’s half-circular drive, I saw the old growth pine trees, over 100 feet tall, still standing. As I pulled into the drive, I could tell the house was intact: No trees had fallen on the house from the woods that envelop the golden cabin.

I was lucky. Inside, no pipes had burst, but the power was still off – the thermostat measured a chilly 33 – but I am blessed and grateful I did not have to endure more than a week of such temperatures. That wasn’t the case in February 1994. 

1994

I was 6 years old then; my younger brother had just turned 2 and my sister was 9. At that time, we lived in a home in Greenville in the Mississippi Delta.

I remember the blue kitchen, and the towel holder by the sink was in the shape of a white goose’s neck. I remember the marigold ceramic tile of the bathroom and the green and burgundy color scheme of my parents’ bedroom. I remember the juniper bush in front of our living room windows and the great live oak tree in the front yard. I remember the paneled den, which had been added onto the house before my parents bought it. The den with a wood-burning brick fireplace at the end of it jutted from the back of the house.

The room gave lodge vibes, and I remember my mother hung paintings of ducks and a quilted tapestry on the walls. The new den’s backdoor slider, to the right, led to the backyard where I could often be found at that age on the swing set listening through headphones to Bette Midler sing on my red Sony Walkman cassette player.

But for more than a week in February 1994, my two siblings, my parents and I were stuck indoors. As Dr. Seuss writes in The Cat in the Hat, “The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So, we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.” So, as the ice storm of 1994 shut off power for many homes across the Delta, we sat in the house, huddling for warmth.

The den’s fireplace was our only heat source. My dad kept a fire going, and my parents hung a giant blanket to cover the room’s opening to the rest of the house to contain the heat. We existed for those seven days without electricity in that one room, cooking beans and canned goods on my dad’s camper stove, sleeping on pallets as close to the fireplace as possible, stoking the embers, reigniting the flames when needed, playing games awkwardly in layers of clothing, listening to the battery-powered radio for entertainment. We read books, perhaps Dr. Seuss among them. We kids left the room sparingly to go to the bathroom or to bathe. My father went outside to gather wood or assess damage or check on neighbors. Power lines and poles were down across our neighborhood, the town and the region. Trees fractured beneath their icy burdens. 

Russell L. Pfost of the National Weather Service called it “The Disastrous Mississippi Ice Storm of 1994.” This 1994 disaster in Mississippi claimed at least nine lives.

Though we were without power for seven days, it took some homes more than a month to regain power, with nearly 750,000 customers without power at some point in north Mississippi. Parts of the state received from 3 to 6 inches of ice accumulation, and the full accounting of the storm’s damage would take years to comprehend.

According to data collected by the National Weather Service in the storm’s aftermath: “Over 8,000 utility poles were pulled down by the weight of the ice, and over 4,700 miles of lines were downed. About 490 water systems were impacted, with as many as 741,000 customers without water at some point.”

1994, 2026

Even before Fern impacted Mississippi, people like my mother were warning 2026 could be like 1994. Storm-planning mode went into overdrive. Electricians were working around the clock to connect backup generators to homes “just in case.”

In Oxford, both the Kroger and Walmart quickly sold out of bottled water and other food items. I went to Kroger on a Tuesday night, more than three days before Fern’s arrival, and many shelves were already empty.

I asked students in one of my classes what they planned to do for the storm that was coming. Most of them did not seem worried; they planned to huddle together as a group at one friend’s house. Another student, however, asked, “Do you remember ’94?” I said, “Yes, I was a kid, but I do; we were without power for a week.” She said, “My mom said the same thing.” I added, “If this turns out to be anything like that was, y’all need more of a plan than huddling at a house. That’s a start, but you need to think about a safe heat source, nonperishable food, having a stockpile of any needed medications, what you’ll do if the water goes out, etc.” She smiled while other students seemed suspect of their older instructor’s warnings. The confidence of youth, perhaps, or a skepticism shaped by our digital age. 

1994, 2026 … 1951

Only time can provide the full story of Winter Storm Fern’s effects on Mississippi, but we can hear echoes from the past in Fern’s aftermath. According to historians, prior to 1994, the worst winter storm to hit Mississippi happened at the end of January 1951. They called it the “Great Southern Glaze Storm.” It was linked to 25 deaths and resulted in $100 million in damage (more than $1 billion today). As with 2026, Nashville was hit hard, with 8 inches of ice and snow measured in the city at the storm’s zenith. In its wake, the Great Glaze left a 100-mile-wide, 4-inch-thick ice sheet that stretched from Texas to West Virginia. Though damage occurred in many states, as meteorologist Ben W. Harlin wrote in 1952: “It was the Southland that suffered most in human misery and property damage.” 

When historians write the story of Winter Storm Fern in 2026, it will likely be a stretch of our “Southland” with Oxford at its bullseye that will have suffered the most human misery and property damage. For now, we are all in recovery mode. The historians will have to wait. 

I wasn’t alive in 1951; my students weren’t alive in 1994; more than likely my parents won’t be alive for the next one in 30-plus years (if it takes that long for another disastrous winter storm to hit Mississippi). In sharing our stories, I hope we can build a molecular memory across generations as an ethic of climate responsibility and accountability to ourselves and others in our beloved “Southland.”

My grandmother used to like to say to me ‘Remember where you have been.’ She was an English teacher in Cleveland, Mississippi, all her life, and she taught us that the traces of every place we inhabit move with and within us. She knew, too, the importance of the past in shaping the future and the necessity for multiple storytellers to contribute to what we know of any given event.

My family’s story is but one story of 1994, one story of 2026. What is yours? Perhaps there could be a series of “Ice Storm” family narratives featured across our timelines and newsfeeds: a string of storytelling lights to come out of a disaster that plunged so many of us into literal darkness.

I’ve come to amend my grandmother’s imperative. It isn’t only remembering where you have been but who you have been with and who you could not have been without. I am grateful to the families in all their forms that shelter, sustain, nourish.

This, to me, is the meaning of care. I know I would have fared far worse without my family in 1994 and my families (in Arkansas, in Mississippi, in Georgia, in Florida) in 2026. 

Now that I’ve lived through two of these ice storms – once as a kid, once as a grown man – it seems to me that we would do well to remember that the infrastructure we rely on comes in multiple forms. Infra, from the Latin for beneath or under, structure.

Perhaps most obvious, we rely on a tangible infrastructure that supports or makes possible the structures we move through daily: power lines, utility poles, internet broadband, satellites in space, cellular data and water pipes we hope withstand the ground’s cruel freeze. We rely on roadways unburdened by ice and rights of way unoccluded by fallen trees, splintered poles or live wires. We rely on easy access to food supply, from what is available in grocery stores in both normal and abnormal times to what we can safely prepare when we cannot use all the routine cooking tools at our disposal. We rely on flushing toilets, heated water and lights that work by the simple flick of a switch.

We recognize the centrality of this tangible infrastructure in our lives perhaps most clearly when we are without it, when it has suddenly been pulled out from under us. 

But moments like 1994, like 2026, reveal our equally important reliance on an intangible infrastructure – something more than just the “material stuff” – that shapes our lives in often far less obvious ways.

We might call this an “infrastructure of care,” a structure of feeling and embodied practice that underlies our connection to one another. My thoughts here borrow from ideas in feminist ethics of care such as Emma Power’s “Caring-with” in which care becomes less an individual responsibility and more a “distributed achievement” and infrastructure functions “not [only] as a dimension of urban technology [poles, wires, pipes, roadways] but a dimension of everyday life” (Graham & McFarlane, 2015: ix).

“Caring-with” or an “infrastructure of care” isn’t about naming the heroic acts of individual actors but tracing the pattern or textures of a general fabric of care in which individuals may contribute a thread or stitch here or there in an ethic of shared responsibility. I am reminded of words from Carson McCullers, one of my favorite writers, in the 1958 play “The Square Root of Wonderful”: “The closest thing to being cared for is to care for someone else.” 

In 1994, I glimpsed this infrastructure of care at work through the eyes of a 6-year-old child. I remember my dad checking on our widowed next-door neighbor who lived alone with her Scottish terrier. On sunny days, “Scottie” would be running in the front yard as wild as we kids did. But in 1994, the utility pole had fallen on the tree in her front yard, and my dad made sure she didn’t go near the newly forged tree-pole until the electric company could ensure it was safe.

I remember similar moments of neighbors checking on neighbors, walking door to treacherous door in an era before cellphones helped us stay in touch. I remember hearing about men leaving their families when the roads were safe enough to drive to go help those in need wherever they may be and whoever they may have been. I remember extended family relaying messages to each other as best they could that they were safe and warm even if their power had also gone out.

This was the era of the walky-talky, and walky-talky we kids did! I remember my grandmother – safe with my grandfather in Cleveland – most worried about the frost on her prize-winning rose garden. Would the Queen Elizabeth rose bush come back with the thaw?

In 2026, we might ask a similar question: Will the trees of Oxford’s beloved Grove prove resilient? 

In 1994, we cared for one another and allowed ourselves to receive care in return but not because we saw ourselves as doing something “important” but because it was just what we did: It was the fabric of who we were. In 2026, this infrastructure of care manifested similarly, despite the arguably deeper divisions that now plague our society. 

After Fern’s icy deluge, I personally received numerous text messages and phone calls from all corners of my life, from colleagues and friends in Mississippi and Georgia, from folks I know intimately to those I don’t know very much at all. For example, my mom’s neighbor texted, “We’ve got plenty of whiskey if you need it.” Now, that’s carework indeed!

On a more serious note, I witnessed neighbors checking on neighbors and observed community organizing at its most resilient, from those with four-wheel-drive trucks leaving their own powerless homes to transport those trapped in homes without power to warming centers to businesses providing free food to those in need. I observed the fierce leadership of both campus and community administrators. I marveled at more senior colleagues inviting junior colleagues into their homes, and I, too, was the recipient of such literally warm invitations.

This infrastructure of care – both those in Oxford checking on each other and helping out in the most mundane of ways to those from out of town coming to Oxford’s rescue – is an evolving story, one that I hope will continue to grow and endure for generations to come.

Disasters like 1994 and 2026 remind us that though the lights can go out and wreak havoc on our lives, the lights can come back on again if we practice patience, allow the professionals to do their work and remember our responsibility to each other. Through both the restoration of tangible infrastructure and the care work of intangible infrastructure, we have the power to turn the lights on again.

I think of what my mother wrote on the final image of our Ice Storm 1994 family photo album, “There is Light Again!” Sure, the lights worked again after the linemen fixed the electrical grid, but now I understand my mother’s words more expansively. In my own family, that time together huddled as one unit seemed to bring about a lightness, a buoyancy, among us kids, despite the labor and worry of our parents and the ecological tragedy unfolding outside.

My siblings and I grew closer together that week. We came to appreciate “play” in a new way. We used our imaginations and our sensorium differently. Without the visual dominance of television screens, our ears grew more attuned as we listened to radio programs.

In short, we kids were all right. So, too, will be your kids who may have spent a few days or weeks without power in 2026. In fact, they too may learn how to survive, imagine and move through the world anew. 

More broadly, like we kids in 1994 who had to use our imaginations anew, perhaps moments like this invite us as a society to collectively reimagine when, how and to what extent we should care for one another – every single man, woman and child – no matter what (natural, man-made or politically motivated) disasters befall us.

Eric Solomon, PhD, is a graduate of Emory University and the Sally McDonnell Barksdale Honors College at the University of Mississippi. He grew up in the Mississippi Delta and is a lifelong Southerner. His work has been featured in Southern Cultures, Southern Spaces, south, South Atlantic Review, Studies in the Literary Imagination, Mississippi Quarterly, the North Carolina Literary Review, among others. Solomon is an instructor of English and Southern Studies at Ole Miss.