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This year marks what would have been Emmett Till’s 84th birthday, and 70 years since the Black teenager was kidnapped and lynched in Mississippi. The Two Mississippi Museums and the Emmett Till Interpretive Center are holding events dedicated to Till and the impact of his death, inspired by the anniversaries. 

The side-by-side museums in Jackson – the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum and the Museum of Mississippi History –  continued a tradition of conducting tours on Till’s birthday, July 25. Visitors sat in the center of the civil rights museum, where a guide recounted Till’s story and its impact on the Civil Rights Movement. People could also enter a small gallery to watch a documentary about his life.

DeSean Dyson, a Jackson native, said he considers Till’s life essential to his own work. His job takes him around the U.S. to promote peace and justice initiatives.

“It’s very important to me, as I have a 10-year-old, a 12-year-old and a 16-year-old, that they stay rooted and connected to this history,” said Dyson, a former educator who took his sons to tour the museums. 

He said teachings about Till should emphasize his humanity.

“Like, it’s really important how we frame Emmett’s death as being inspiring to a generation, but Emmett’s life mattered a lot,” Dyson said.

Michael Morris, director of the Two Mississippi Museums, said he wants people to understand the broad context of Till’s life and death.

“I hope visitors learn about not just the fact that he was murdered, which is important, but also the fact that his life really did stimulate, encourage, inspire a lot of youth his age to become a part of the modern Civil Rights Movement,” Morris said.

Longtime civil rights activist Hezekiah Watkins of Jackson volunteers at the civil rights museum in various roles, often speaking about his life story. In 1961, he was just 13 when he was arrested at Jackson’s Greyhound bus station. Authorities thought he was part of the Freedom Riders, a racially integrated group of young people who rode interstate buses through the South to challenge segregation. Watkins and the Freedom Riders were sent to the Mississippi State Penitentiary and housed on death row.

Watkins recounted that when he told his mother he was joining the Civil Rights Movement, she used Till’s death as a warning: “She said, ‘You remember me telling you about Emmett Till?’ She said, ‘The same thing that happened to Emmett will happen to you.’

“I guess I really didn’t care,” Watkins said, “because I didn’t know that we was living in bondage … I didn’t know we was living as slaves, per se.”

In August 1955, 14-year-old Till traveled from Chicago to the Mississippi Delta to visit his cousins. Till and other young Black people went to buy snacks one day at Bryant’s Grocery & Meat Market in the tiny community of Money. Till’s cousin Simeon Wright later said he heard Till whistle at the white storekeeper, Carolyn Bryant, as they left.

Days later, a group that included Carolyn’s husband Roy Bryant and his half-brother J.W. Milam kidnapped Till from the home of Moses Wright, Till’s great-uncle. They beat Till, shot him and dumped him in the Tallahatchie River, using barbed wire to attach a 75-pound cotton gin fan to him. His body was discovered three days later, decomposed beyond recognition except for his father’s ring on one of his fingers.

Mississippi authorities wanted a quick burial, but Till’s mother Mamie Till-Mobley requested his body be returned to Chicago. After seeing the horrific condition of her son’s corpse, she insisted on an open-casket funeral so the world could see what had happened. 

Jet magazine published a photo of Till’s mutilated body at his funeral, launching the killing into an international news story. Weeks later, an all-white jury in Mississippi acquitted Milam and Bryant of murdering Till. Outrage over the injustice of the case helped launch the Civil Rights Movement, inspiring many Black people to openly oppose Jim Crow.

Today, the courthouse where Till’s killers were acquitted is restored and is a National Park Service site. The restoration was done by the Emmett Till Memorial Commission, formed in 2006 by Jerome G. Little, the Tallahatchie County Board of Supervisors’ first Black president.

The commission was dedicated to remembering Till and healing racial division. It went on to become a nonprofit organization and establish the Emmett Till Interpretive Center in Sumner. 

The center is hosting a Till commemoration Aug. 28-30 at Mississippi Valley State University’s Walter Roberts Auditorium.

Benjamin Saulsberry is the museum’s public engagement and education director. He said the impact of Till’s death is still felt today by people who remember the terrible events of that hot Mississippi summer.

“We’re talking about people who are still alive with us, people who were lawmakers or about to become lawmakers themselves … and in turn, their ideologies and their spaces have helped – or in some ways maybe not helped — shape the world that we live in today,” he said.

The three-day commemoration will focus on Till, his mother and the impact of Till’s lynching in the Delta. The programming includes a theatrical performance, an award-winning biographical exhibit and panels with people discussing their accounts of watching Till’s story. Registration for the commemoration is on the center’s website.

Saulsberry hopes visitors come away from the commemoration knowing more about Till and the Delta, that they feel inspired to continue learning and that they know they can create change in their own lives.

He acknowledged Till’s death was a tragedy, but said people should remember the action it inspired. 

“And I want to be clear that it marks the 70th year after his murder, but also marks the 70th year of Mrs. Mamie Till making the decision she made that would help basically, bring us to another part of the Civil Rights Movement,” Saulsberry said. “It’s the 70th year anniversary point of recognition where Mr. Moses Wright stands up in that courtroom and points directly at Milam and Bryant, knowing he was putting his own life at risk.” 

Hard to believe the Mississippi football season opens later this month. Not so hard to believe is that the Clevelands have looked ahead at the schedule and picked the five most interesting high school and college football games on the schedule. A hint: You don’t have to wait long for one some of the most intriguing games, both high school and college.

Stream all episodes here.

Morgan Freeman had a simple message for people attending the Mississippi Early Learning Alliance’s inaugural fundraising luncheon on Tuesday. 

When asked what advice he’d give to an 8-year-old in Mississippi with big dreams, Freeman said just three words: “Get a book.”

Freeman, an Academy Award-winning actor, headlined the “Big Voices for Little Children” fundraiser for the alliance, which is dedicated to improving early learning and child development outcomes. 

More than 200 advocates, politicians and local leaders attended the luncheon, including Lt. Gov. Delbert Hosemann and blues musician Bobby Rush. The event was hosted at the Two Mississippi Museums in downtown Jackson and primarily sponsored by TrueCare, a nonprofit created by Mississippi hospitals as an alternative to traditional managed care.

The luncheon comes at a critical time for early learning in Mississippi and on the heels of statewide reading gains that have garnered national attention. That wasn’t lost on speakers at the event, including Freeman. 

Executive director Biz Harris opened the fundraiser by underscoring how important successful early education systems are to the state’s success as a whole. 

“Every single day in Mississippi, nearly 100 new babies are born,” she said. “That’s 100 new beginnings — 100 new chances for our state to make the future a little stronger and a little brighter.”

She listed a number of initiatives aimed at improving early learning in Mississippi, including Hosemann’s task force on families and children and the successful passage of a bill that guarantees six weeks of paid parental leave for state employees. 

Harris also detailed her personal struggles with child care — struggles that almost prevented her from accepting her current job. 

Almost a decade ago, she was offered a position by SonEdna, the organization founded by Freeman that helped launch the alliance. It was her dream job, she said, but she couldn’t find child care for her 2-year-old son. After calling every local program, Harris said, she pieced together a child care plan for her son, but it wasn’t ideal. For nine months, her son bounced between programs. 

“He was safe, he was cared for, he was learning, but that constant transition shaped his development and comfort with new situations in ways that we still see him struggle with as a sixth grader,” she said. “I share this because what babies experience in those early years matters so much. It affects their education and their health for the rest of their lives.”

Freeman said his own education in Greenwood influenced his trajectory as an actor and advocate for children’s education, which led to his role as polyester-clad Easy Reader on education children’s television show “The Electric Company” in the 1970s.

As people ate lunch, Freeman recounted stories from his childhood and shared his love of reading.

“When I was 8 years old and living in Chicago, I had a library card,” he said. “My first book that didn’t have pictures was ‘Black Beauty.’ So there I was, reading, reading, reading. And my penchant for adventure came from those books.”

Freeman regaled the audience with other personal tidbits, too, like his version of a perfect day in Mississippi (“riding horses”) and what kind of student he was in school (“a teacher’s pet”). 

But he kept coming back to reading.

“There are marvelous things in books,” Freeman said. “You can learn anything in the world. … All of the things I’ve done — flying, sailing, acting — are because of books.”

President Donald Trump on Tuesday announced his nomination of James Maxwell and Robert Chamberlin, two Mississippi Supreme Court justices, to vacant federal judicial seats in northern Mississippi. 

Pending Senate confirmation of the nominations, Gov. Tate Reeves will appoint two state high court justices temporarily, then special elections will be held in November of 2026.

Trump made the announcement on Truth Social, his social media platform, where he said the two justices, if confirmed, would uphold the Constitution and the rule of law. Both Chamberlin and Maxwell, through the state Administrative Office of the Court’s public information officer, declined to comment.

The two nominations will go before the U.S. Senate for confirmation. Both of Mississippi’s Republican U.S. senators, Roger Wicker and Cindy Hyde-Smith, commended Trump for nominating the two jurists and said they supported their confirmation. 

“I want to thank President Donald Trump for his nomination of two solid and experienced jurists for the U.S. District Court,” Wicker said in a statement. “I wholeheartedly support Justice Chamberlin and Justice Maxwell and look forward to their speedy confirmation.”

Maxwell earned his undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Mississippi. Former Gov. Haley Barbour in February of 2009 appointed Maxwell to the state Court of Appeals. Maxwell was elected to the post in 2010 and reelected in 2014. Former Gov. Phil Bryant appointed him to the state Supreme Court in January 2016. He was later elected to an eight-year term in November of 2016 and reelected in 2024.

Chamberlin earned his undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Mississippi. He first served as a state circuit court judge for 12 years in the 17th Circuit District. In 2016, he was elected to an open seat on the state Supreme Court and reelected in 2024. 

Before becoming a judge, Chamberlin was a member of the state Senate for five years, representing DeSoto County. 

Chamberlin and Maxwell will replace U.S. District Judges Michael Mills and Sharion Aycock, both of whom decided to take senior status in recent years. 

It’s unclear who Reeves might appoint to fill the vacancies. He has previously filled judicial vacancies on the state Court of Appeals with prosecutors or circuit court judges with prosecutorial experience, such as the appointments of Judge John Weddle and Judge John Emfinger.

LaQuita Glasper said living at Blossom Apartments the last few weeks has felt like being in jail. 

On July 23, JXN Water disconnected service to the complex in south Jackson, leaving about 20 families without access to running water. Now, the residents have orders to vacate.

Hundreds more Jacksonians could be forced from their homes if the private water utility continues a crackdown that has already led residents in two apartment complexes to flee. 

“We’re not gonna be able to move and pick up in five days,” Glasper said Saturday as officials scrambled to temporarily restore water and deal with the fallout. “We need more time.”

The utility has remained mum about the specific properties where it plans to discontinue service next, though concerned residents are encouraged to call JXN Water 601-500-5200 to get a status update on their property.

Glasper, 44, has lived at Blossom with her mother for four years. She said she doesn’t invite visitors because of safety concerns.

She said she has her eyes set on another complex, The Park at St. Andrews. But that apartment is also behind on its water bill, according to JXN Water.

The utility previously released a list of 15 complexes that had delinquent water bills of more than $100,000, plus 141 total accounts across the city are considered past due. Some of the properties have signed on to a payment plan. The utility said it has declined to name the complexes that have refused and could be at risk of shutoffs, “to avoid triggering confusion or panic among tenants.”

But advocates and caseworkers for low-income and homeless Jacksonians are bracing.

“This is in some ways starting to feel like a practice run,” said Jill Buckley, director of Stewpot Community Services, which is using a federal emergency housing grant to help Blossom residents relocate. 

Mayor John Horhn secured a federal judge’s order last Friday temporarily restoring water to Blossom until Wednesday. Because the complex is a low-income housing development, oversight agency Mississippi Home Corporation stepped in, labeling the property unsafe and forcing residents to leave. 

 ”It really been like a horror movie. It kind of reminds me of Hurricane Katrina. People are running here and there trying to get water,” said Chante Robinson-Baxter, another Blossom tenant. She receives disability payments and has lived at the complex for 13 years.

Mississippi Home Corporation Director Scott Spivey, who has headed the agency for a decade, said it was the first time in his tenure it exercised this authority.

“I would love to say that there’s never going to be a next time but there’s going to be a next time,” Spivey said Tuesday.

Many of the low-income residents of these apartments have paid their water bills, combined with their monthly rent. The utility shut off water to residents at Blossom, claiming its owner owes $422,000, on July 23, followed by another south Jackson complex, Chapel Ridge, on Aug. 1. 

“I’ve just been pleading my case with JXN Water, ‘Please don’t displace these residents,’ because they’re doing what they’re supposed to do,” said Allison Cox, director of the Jackson Housing Authority, which administers federal housing vouchers to residents in Jackson, including one who lived at Blossom. 

JXN Water’s policy is to post signs notifying residents of impending shutoffs. But the utility’s spokesperson, Aisha Carson, said Blossom’s property manager removed the notices, “leading to confusion and misinformation among residents.”

Cox and JXN Water have been in constant contact, so she knows how much of a moving target the shutoffs have become. One day, she gets word that a complex might lose service. The next, the owner has signed a repayment agreement. 

“It’s changing all the time,” Cox said.

Tenants and advocates met Tuesday evening at Stewpot to discuss their options. If anything, the Blossom situation has demonstrated how community partners can mobilize to address shutoffs in the future. 

Tonia Cowart, a local real estate agent and Stewpot’s housing navigator, said she uses all available resources – secretary of state’s office filings, county tax records, news reports and her own eyes – to vet units before placing her clients there. 

“My best work is done with boots on the ground, and I get up and go see, and I do this on a daily basis,” Cowart said.

Before JXN Water released the names of the 15 delinquent apartment complexes, though, she wouldn’t have known not to refer people there. 

Mississippi Today reached out to the 15 complexes on the list of highest delinquent accounts. The only response came from The Park at St. Andrews, with manager Reuven Oded saying the complex has been dealing with the Jackson water “saga” for years and tried unsuccessfully to resolve the issue.

“We are hopeful that now that the Federal Receiver is in place we will have all billing and usage matters resolved in the very near future,” Oded said in an email.

Blossom Apartments owner Tony Little’s troubles with JXN Water, including hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of charges he says are impossible, began more than a year ago. Little said he doesn’t have enough money to cover the bill.

“The bill is simply not correct, but today we’re talking about displaced tenants … It’s the actual people who are on the ground that we have to protect,” Little said. “This is no longer just about who’s right and who’s wrong.”

Carson said that while she cannot speak on individual accounts, JXN Water is now implementing two systems for transparency. 

Starting in September, the utility will be publishing a list of the 15 complexes with the largest outstanding balances, and it is also allowing call center staff to respond to requests for information on accounts if the resident can provide proof that they live in a particular complex. 

“We’re making this decision because tenants have to know ahead of time whether or not their apartment complex owner is behind on their water bill,” Carson said. “We want to be able to point them towards the source of truth about it.”

Jackson reporter Molly Minta and editor Anna Wolfe contributed to this report.

Katie Blount, who oversaw the opening of two state history museums in 2017 and helped coordinate a redesign of the state flag in 2020, said Tuesday that she will retire next year as director of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History.

Blount joined the department in 1994 as public relations coordinator. She worked as assistant to the director and deputy director for communication before being named director in 2015. She is the second woman to hold the job. Charlotte Capers led the department from 1955 to 1969.

“Embracing complex stories draws audiences and earns the trust of partners in a position to pour resources into Mississippi,” Blount said in a press release.

She said she will retire June 30, the end of the current state budget year. Blount said the department’s employees deserve credit for telling the state’s story and preserving history.

In recent years, the department has repatriated ancestral remains and burial objects to Native American tribes. It also has worked on projects including stabilization of the Windsor Ruins and revitalization of the Grand Village of the Natchez Indians, both in southwestern Mississippi, and development of a new Vicksburg Civil War Visitor Center set to open in 2028.

The Mississippi Civil Rights Museum and the Museum of Mississippi History are under one roof in downtown Jackson and are collectively called the Two Mississippi Museums. They opened during the state’s bicentennial celebration.

After legislators voted in 2020 to replace a Confederate-themed state flag that had been used since 1894, Blount joined Lt. Gov. Delbert Hosemann and then-House Speaker Philip Gunn in a ceremony to retire the old flag to the museums.

A commission to design a new flag met that summer at the two museums, choosing a magnolia surrounded by stars and the phrase, “In God We Trust.” The design went on the November 2020 ballot, and voters overwhelmingly ratified the choice.

Reuben Anderson, a former Mississippi Supreme Court justice who chaired the flag commission and is a past president of the Department of Archives and History Board of Trustees, said in a statement to Mississippi Today on Tuesday that his message to Blount is: “Just a Big Thank You for all you have done for the Museum the City of Jackson and Mississippi.”

In June, Blount received a lifetime achievement award from the American Association for State and Local History.

Spence Flatgard, current president of the Archives and History board, praised Blount’s work.

“Katie is universally respected by her peers and state leaders,” Flatgard said in the department’s press release. “Her love for public service and for Mississippians has helped us tell our story to schoolchildren and to presidents.”

It took Tommy Duff precisely 20 seconds to invoke the outsider businessman who rose to power with no experience holding elected office. Duff would have mentioned President Donald Trump even sooner had he not paused a few seconds to wait for applause to hush. 

Trump, Duff exclaimed before a room full of Republican insiders at a hotel in Rankin County on Monday night, has surpassed his 200th day in office. He said the changes Trump has brought about are self-evident, and the impact of the administration’s agenda is as direct as the president at its helm. He said Trump is someone who says “this is what we’re doing, and then does it.”

“And I think the thing that appeals to me the most about President Trump and watching his policies is the fact that he’s an outsider,” Duff added. “He looks at things in a different perspective. He thinks that if we’ve operated this way for so long, why don’t we change? Because maybe what we’ve been doing has not been working.” 

In what Duff’s advisers characterized as the first political speech of his life, the billionaire tire baron on Monday outlined some of the challenges he believes Mississippi must tackle, and the “vision” he has for doing so. That vision was largely short on policy specifics.

In a sit-down interview with Mississippi Today in June, at an event with business leaders in July, and at a “Lincoln-Reagan-Trump” dinner on Monday, Duff has hinted at the broad outlines of what could become a gubernatorial campaign agenda. But Duff has largely done so without offering specific policy proposals, citing the nearly 27 months remaining until Election Day in 2027. 

Duff, 68, Mississippi’s richest man, again stopped short of formally announcing a run for governor in 2027, but he has said publicly he is considering entering the race. 

His speech on Monday was not a divergence from his recent public appearances, as his remarks did not shed light on where he stands on a wide range of ongoing public policy debates in Mississippi, including the intra-party Republican fights on school choice and Medicaid expansion.

But he expanded on his prior calls for Mississippi to get serious about fixing its brain drain problem. Mississippi has seen a large share of its college graduates flee to other states in search of, among other priorities, lucrative jobs. 

Keeping more Mississippi-educated college students and offering the job opportunities that may incentivize them to stay, along with improving the state’s labor force participation rate, will set the stage for what Duff sees as the state’s central challenge: overtaking other Southeastern states in the race for economic investment. That should involve increasing economic activity in Mississippi in areas of the state that are losing population, such as the Delta, Duff said. 

“We’re doing great in education. I am so proud of our educational advances and what we’re doing, and I give great tribute to the leaders of Mississippi for that,” Duff said. “We are doing great as a state as far as our economic activity, but there are pockets of our state that are just desperate for assistance, desperate. How can we continue to grow our state?” 

Education and economic development were the dominant themes in a speech that ran just under 30 minutes. 

Duff, who with his brother is reportedly worth a combined $7 billion, said he supported the Legislature’s “reduction” of the state income tax. In 2025, Mississippi’s Republican majority passed legislation that will gradually eliminate the tax over several years. 

But Duff also used the occasion to draw historical parallels that could prove helpful later. By the second minute of his remarks, he had mentioned not only Trump, but Kirk Fordice, who entered Mississippi’s 1992 gubernatorial race as a businessman and political outsider. Fordice rode that political image to the governor’s mansion, becoming the first Republican governor in Mississippi since Reconstruction.

For Fordice and other Republicans, Rankin County has been a key GOP stronghold. 

Duff spoke in Flowood at the Sheraton’s The Refuge, the same hotel where incumbent Republican Gov. Tate Reeves celebrated his reelection in 2023. 

The event, which organizers said was sold out, charged $100 for individual tickets. Tables cost $1,000, with the priciest tier landing at $10,000 for access to a VIP sponsor reception and two VIP tables. State legislators mingled with local party officials and lobbyists inside a cavernous ballroom. Outside, a bar overlooked the hotel golf course. 

Duff’s political action committee promoted fundraising for the event, with proceeds going to the Rankin County Republican Executive Committee. 

Duff keynoted a speaking program that included at least one of his potential rivals for the governor’s mansion: Agriculture Commissioner Andy Gipson.

Gipson, 48, a former state lawmaker, lawyer, and Baptist minister, has already thrown his cowboy hat in the ring for the governor’s race. Gipson, who has served in state government for 17 years, delivered the invocation on Monday, informing the crowd that a higher power had made clear Mississippi’s biggest problem had nothing to do with public policy. 

“You saw our greatest problem was not education. Our greatest problem was not financing. Our greatest problem was not health care. Our problem was sin,” Gipson said.  

The speakers also included Secretary of State Michael Watson, seen as a likely candidate for lieutenant governor in 2027. Watson introduced Duff, highlighting his business success as an exemplar of both the American Dream and a Republican Party that venerates individualism. 

“He could clock out, but he hasn’t because he cares. And I think that’s an important piece of being an elected official, not that he is one, but just in case,” Watson said. “We believe it’s good to celebrate freedom, rugged individualism, hard work, entrepreneurship and success. We celebrate the positive things happening in Mississippi and America right now, and we celebrate that the American Dream is alive and well.” 

When Duff took the stage, he cast the story behind his business empire in a less individualistic light, pointing out that he had help along the way. 

“I went about a year without a paycheck. But luckily, I lived at home, and mom and dad took care of it. But we worked and we had fun, and as we grew, I learned a lot of things. One is that I’m not that important. The culture and the people are what’s important.” 

With respect to the current culture war, Duff’s remarks were short on red meat, though Duff did mention an episode from years ago when he and his brother Jim were asked by a Forbes Magazine reporter whether they had a DEI policy (the answer was no). 

Duff also mentioned his eight-year stint on the state Institutions of Higher Learning Board, claiming to have helped improve the financial health of the state’s higher education system. Duff has also done that through private donations – he and his brother have donated about $50 million to Mississippi universities.

Duff’s remarks also drew from a conversation he reported having with JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon. The men each spoke at a July 28 summit hosted by Mississippi Today and Deep South Today. 

Duff said Dimon asked him why only just over half of Mississippi adults eligible to work are working, as shown by a labor-force participation rate that lags most other states. Duff, who through his companies employs thousands of Mississippi residents, said the answer is a lack of well-paying jobs.

That sentiment seemed to be shared by Arkansas Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders, who, in another private conversation with Duff, reportedly nudged him to bring more of his company’s jobs to the state. 

“She said, let’s talk about how you’re going to have more (employees). Let’s talk about what other businesses you can put in our state. And I stopped, and I said, this lady really learned from Donald Trump,” Duff said. “She really understands things, because she approaches it in a different manner.”

A new restaurant at the former Sun-n-Sand Motor Hotel in downtown Jackson says it will serve up comfort food in partnership with a state program that provides support to Mississippians who are legally blind.

Hen & Egg was founded by the Mississippi Department of Finance and Administration, the Mississippi Department of Rehabilitation Services and Chef Nick Wallace. 

The old Sun-n-Sand is a midcentury modern structure that’s a short walk from the Capitol. The hotel operated from 1960 to 2001 and was a longtime gathering spot for state legislators and lobbyists, as well as civil rights activists. The Mississippi Department of Archives and History designated it a state landmark in 2020.

Hen & Egg opened to the public Tuesday with operating hours of 7 a.m.-7 p.m Monday through Friday and 10 a.m.-3 p.m. Sundays. The restaurant has an event space on the second floor.

Wallace, who was born and raised in Mississippi, has been featured on several cooking shows, such as “Chopped” and “Top Chef.” He runs Nissan Cafe in the Two Mississippi Museums in downtown Jackson, also in partnership with the Department of Rehabilitation Services. 

Wallace said when the department reached out three years ago to ask him to join the project at the old Sun-n-Sand, it was easy for him to agree. 

“They’re very honest people, and they just want the best for Mississippians,” he said Monday.

The restaurant is part of the Business Enterprise Program, which provides support and opportunities for Mississippians who are legally blind to become food service vendors. 

By state and federal law, vendors who are legally blind get priority to operate vending facilities in state-owned and federally-owned buildings.

Hen & Egg’s vendor is Eddie Turner, a Brandon resident who is also the vendor for the Roy M. Wheat Galley at Naval Air Station Meridian and the Micro Market at the Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries and Parks.

Turner, who has been blind his entire life, credits the program with helping him and others make a living and be independent. 

“I just can’t say enough about it. It’s just a great program,” Turner said. “There’s a lot of blind people across the country that benefit from it.”

Dorothy Young is director of the Office of Vocational Rehabilitation for the Blind, which runs the Business Enterprise Program. Young said Hen & Egg was also the idea of the state Department of Finance and Administration.

“The Department of Finance and Administration … wanted to revitalize a lot of state agencies around downtown, and this was just one of the buildings that they invested in,” she said.

The Sun-n-Sand fell into disrepair in the years after it closed. The state bought the building in 2019, demolishing most of it to create a parking lot for state employees. After outcry from preservationists, the commercial part of the hotel was restored in 2021 and turned into a meeting and event space, and now the restaurant. 

Editor’s note: This Mississippi Today Ideas essay is published as part of our Brain Drain project, which seeks answers to Mississippi’s brain drain problem. To read more about the project, click here.

I am a son of Jackson. My roots run deep – cultivated over Sunday dinners at my grandmother’s house in Presidential Hills, life lessons in my mother’s salon on Bailey Avenue, visits to Fire Station 21 where my father worked and childhood adventures in Richwood Estates.

Jackson has never just been a place to me. It’s memory, rhythm and resilience. It’s where I first learned that community isn’t theoretical. It’s lived out daily through perseverance and love. I’ve always loved this city. But like many with ambition and vision, I left.

After graduating from high school and briefly attending community college, I enrolled in Mississippi State’s Building Construction Science program. That experience changed my trajectory. Through design studios, collaborative projects and field visits to cities like Miami and New York, my perspective expanded. I began to see what was possible beyond the bounds of Mississippi.

After graduation, I followed opportunity to cities where innovation in construction was thriving. I joined teams in markets actively investing in infrastructure, encouraging creative solutions and supporting inclusive leadership. In those environments, I sharpened my technical abilities, broadened my worldview and grew both professionally and personally.

Still, Jackson was never far from my mind. I came back often – for birthdays, holidays or just to surprise my parents. With each visit, though, I saw more signs of decline –  crumbling streets, aging infrastructure, a growing sense of resignation. The energy I remembered – the drive, the optimism – was dimming. Jackson felt tired. And too many of its people had stopped believing.

My decision to leave wasn’t just about chasing ambition. It was about necessity. In Jackson, the professional landscape – especially in fields like construction and program management – offered limited pathways for innovation or growth. Entrepreneurial opportunities were hard to find and even harder to sustain. But what worried me more than the visible decay was the emotional toll: a creeping hopelessness that tomorrow might not be better than today.

Between 2012 and 2022, I worked across the country – New York, San Diego, D.C., Atlanta and Lawton, Oklahoma – managing construction and real estate development projects. Each city challenged me in new ways. I adapted to different cultures, built new friendships and navigated fast-paced environments. I met my wife in New York, married in 2019 in San Diego, and in 2021, we welcomed our daughter and launched my business in Atlanta.

By many measures, life was full and successful. But something was missing.

During an extended visit home during the pandemic, I found myself buried in Zoom meetings that started at 7:30 a.m. and didn’t end until well after 7:00 p.m. I was physically present, but mentally detached – consumed by work. Over evening conversations with my parents, something shifted. I began asking different questions. What’s the point of success if it’s experienced in a silo? What value does achievement hold if not shared with the people who shaped you?

I missed Sunday dinners. I missed HBCU tailgates and SEC game days. My parents were aging, and I could feel time speeding up. My wife and I began to think seriously about where we wanted to raise our daughter – not just physically, but spiritually and culturally. We wanted her to grow up surrounded by family, faith and familiarity.

In the fall of 2022, we returned home to Jackson.

Some say you can’t change a system from within. Others argue that real change only happens when you’re inside it. I believe both are true. And I’ve seen what happens when forgotten neighborhoods are met with vision, capital and collaboration. They transform. I’ve seen abandoned buildings become cultural anchors and neglected corridors reborn as centers of pride.

That’s what I want for Jackson.

I didn’t come back to fix everything. No one person can. But I returned with a strategic vision and a commitment to be part of something bigger than myself. Through my firm, Richardson & Richardson (RxR), I’m working to help Jackson confront its biggest challenges – blight, failing infrastructure and fragmented development – by facilitating public-private partnerships and empowering local talent.

My mission isn’t just to complete projects. It’s to restore belief in ourselves, in our neighborhoods and in what this city can become.

To my surprise, returning has been revitalizing. Jackson’s professional landscape is more alive than I expected – full of builders, creators and entrepreneurs with the courage to take risks. There’s a scrappy energy here, driven by the reality that we have to make our own way. But there’s also a closeness that large cities can’t replicate.

Here, my name matters. It opens doors in ways no LinkedIn connection ever could. Opportunities have a way of finding me based on my parents and grandparents’ decades old relationships. This is my village.

Yes, I left. But leaving gave me the tools, clarity and conviction to return with purpose.

This city raised me. Now, I want to help raise it.

Terrance Richardson is a Jackson native, son of Pastor Charles and Gwendolyn Richardson, a husband to Sharay Richardson and father of two girls, Noa and Adia Richardson. He is a program management and construction professional with a passion for revitalizing urban communities.

Maria was seven months pregnant with her now 12-year-old child when she slipped on the greasy floor of a Koch Foods poultry plant in Morton. She fell over, got back up, and resumed working. She had 40-pound boxes of freshly packed chicken to carry roughly seven minutes from the line to the frying area.

The further along in her pregnancy, the harder it was to do her job – and the more scared she was for herself and her baby. She asked to be moved to a less intensive position for the rest of her pregnancy. Her supervisors refused.

She says they asked her to present a doctor’s note before they allowed her to take more bathroom breaks than the one per shift granted to all workers.

“They don’t move you to another position, even if you have a fever, even if you’re crying,” Maria said. “Because they say, ‘It’s your job, you already know your job.’” 

So she kept clocking in at 6 a.m. until she was eight-and-a-half months pregnant. 

Six years after Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids on seven Mississippi poultry plants brought national attention to an industry that had profited from undocumented labor for decades, more than a dozen current and former immigrant workers told Mississippi Today that deteriorated working conditions persist for undocumented employees as well as those with work permits or green cards. Most interviews were conducted in Spanish, with some workers’ first names changed and their last names not used because they feared retaliation and deportation.

ICE detained 680 mostly Latino workers in the August 2019 raids. The year prior, Koch Foods settled a class action lawsuit for $3.75 million. The U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission charged the company with sexual harassment, national origin and race discrimination as well as retaliation against Latino workers at its Morton plant.

Following the raids, three plant managers and human resources staff were sentenced to up to two years of probation for knowingly “harboring illegal aliens.” 

Years later, loopholes persist. Several workers told Mississippi Today it is still possible to find employment in the chicken plants without work authorization, often using fake papers or a contractor.

This practice isn’t unique to Mississippi. In 2024, nationally, around 23% of workers in the meatpacking industry were undocumented and 42% were foreign-born, the American Immigration Council told Wired Magazine. Undocumented immigrants represent 4.6% of the U.S. employed labor force.

“They seek out the most vulnerable workers, who are not going to complain and not going to demand better conditions,” said Debbie Berkowitz, a former policy adviser for Occupational Safety and Health Administration and worker safety expert who has written about the poultry industry. 

Before obtaining a work permit in 2021 and finding employment in a Tyson plant, Gabby worked for two other poultry processing companies under a fake name. She paid a U.S. citizen $1,700 to use the person’s Social Security number and name at work.

Koch Foods, her first employer, hired her in 2006 through a third party. The only form of identification required was that Social Security number. 

Her contractor, a single person who operated through word of mouth, didn’t provide her with a contract – only paying her cash. When he held her pay for over a month, Gabby complained to plant managers. They said her salary wasn’t processed through the plant’s payroll department and they were not accountable.

“The first thing most people think is, if I speak up, ICE is going to come for me,” Gabby said. “The last thing you want to do is create problems. What you want to do is work.” 

In order to keep her job, she had to lie and maintain a fake identity. She lived in fear of being found out.

“You go to work with fear, you go with shame,” she said.

Working with fake papers can make getting a doctor’s excuse for missed days nearly impossible. Maria was able to get six weeks of unpaid maternity leave with a doctor’s note because she worked under her real name, but other pregnant women needed a doctor who agreed to forge their fake name on medical records.

Gabby says she was fired from her job at Koch Foods because she gave the contact information of a willing doctor to other undocumented workers. Koch Foods didn’t answer multiple requests for comment on allegations made by workers.

Past the limit

Across all assembly lines, the piece rate – the number of chickens that workers handle per minute –  directly affects the likelihood of developing pains or muscle and bone injuries, a study funded by the U.S. Department of Agriculture found. Only the evisceration line speed, or the phase where chickens are killed, is federally regulated. Piece rate is determined mainly by the job-specific line speed and staffing level.

The same study found that 81% of U.S. poultry plant workers had an “unacceptably high” risk of musculoskeletal disease. To mitigate that risk, authors recommended increasing staffing levels and decreasing line speeds.

But several workers said line speeds were used to increase pressure on employees. Miguel, an 18-year Koch Foods employee, claims he was pushed to resign within months by a supervisor who continuously increased line speeds as punishment.

He started in 2000 in the debone section, cutting chicken parts from hanging carcasses, then became a lead person. For an additional $1 per hour, he was watching over two lines of 30 workers in total. He says he was demoted by this new supervisor who took a dislike to him.

The supervisor would single him and another employee out, place them on another line and speed it up. 

“He told me he wanted us to do double duty: What four people were doing, he wanted two to do,” Miguel said.

After three failed attempts to report the situation to managers, Miguel quit and found work in construction. Koch Foods did not provide comment on how line speeds are set and managed at the plant. 

Every worker interviewed described as routine hostility from supervisors and managers, harassment and arbitrary punishments targeting immigrant workers. 

“I feel like it doesn’t matter if you speak English or not, they’re going to look at you ugly. They treat you wrong just because they feel they have that authority, that they’re the boss,” said Sofi, a recipient of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. She started working at Koch Foods in February and quit after four months.

Injured and fired

Annual employee turnover averages 65% but ranges as high as 150% in poultry plants nationally, according to a survey by the U.S. Poultry and Egg Association. Over half of employees last less than three months on the job. 

Employees told Mississippi Today that almost anything can be grounds for termination. Half of the dozen workers interviewed said they witnessed or experienced layoffs following an injury on the job.

Repeating the same motions hundreds of times a day, for years, can lead to chronic pains and eventually injuries. Maribel, a 17-year Koch Foods employee, tucked chicken wings for eight years with an overstretched tendon in her hand. With the pain on her mind, she says she was terminated in March after she requested to not be moved to the more intensive deboning section, where workers handle large metallic scissors.

Idalia, a green card holder, says Tyson Foods fired her after she reported a dislocated shoulder with a doctor’s note in 2023. She marinated chicken, a job that requires repetitive hand and arm movements. She now works for Koch Foods, where she packs boxes of chicken with growing pain in her hand from knocking her hands against tape dispensers and frozen chicken six days a week.

Poultry plants are required to report injuries needing treatment beyond first aid or resulting in lost work days to OSHA. Lost work days must also be reported to the Mississippi Workers’ Compensation Commission.

Mississippi law states that all injured workers, regardless of immigration status, are entitled to workers’ compensation, and medical and wage loss benefits, even if they get fired following the injury.

However, undocumented workers are less likely to claim the benefits, due to a lack of information and fear that drawing attention to themselves could lead to deportation.

Several employees told Mississippi Today that some plants found a way around reporting injuries to OSHA.

A bad fall on his hips in a Koch Foods plant injured Miguel enough that he couldn’t work for two weeks. While recovering, he came in every day, clocked in and out at his regular hours, pretending to be working as usual. For the entirety of his shift, he sat in the rest area.

His managers said it was the only way he could get paid while he was injured.

Three workers interviewed said they witnessed injured employees sitting all day in the cafeteria or their supervisor’s office. Koch did not respond to a request for comment.

“I think not wanting folks to report is an OSHA question, and then not wanting folks to get access to medical care and disability benefits is a money question,” said Angela Stuesse, author of  “Scratching Out a Living: Latinos, Race, and Work in the Deep South,” based on years of ethnographic research in Mississippi’s poultry region.

Exposed to hazards

Ninety-one severe injuries were reported in Mississippi’s poultry plants in the last 10 years, and 35 workers suffered amputations. Poultry workers nationally suffer occupational injuries and illnesses six times more often than other workers, according to 2016 data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

But the prevalence of injuries in the industry is not a natural consequence of handling dangerous machines, tools or chemicals. Berkowitz argues it is the result of companies purposefully cutting corners to save money.

“All injuries are preventable,” she said. “It’s all about profits, and they’re making huge profits.”

Tyson Foods, the biggest chicken producer in the U.S., reported $16.4 billion in chicken sales in 2024. 

The sanitation shift, which takes place at night and is mostly staffed by undocumented workers, is the most dangerous, Berkowitz says. Workers clean the blood and guts out of machines, using high pressure hoses and corrosive chemicals. But some poultry companies use sanitation subcontractors to clean their plants, escaping some liability for what happens on the shift.

“This is really a way to outsource their obligation to protect workers,” Berkowitz said.

Although company employees still oversee operations, subcontractors are responsible for hiring workers and providing them adequate equipment and training.

Quality Service Integrity, a sanitation company contracted by Tyson Foods, was fined $10,000 in June 2024 for making workers pay to replace their damaged protective equipment, like chemical suits and safety glasses, in a Tyson plant in Carthage – a violation of OSHA standards. 

The same investigation also found that the plant did not have an infirmary or a person trained to perform first aid.

Baldomero Orozco, an employee with a work permit who cleaned Tyson’s Carthage plant at night, had filed a complaint against Quality Service Integrity to OSHA before the inspection.

“We have strict policies in place across all facilities to ensure full compliance with all applicable workplace regulations,” a Tyson Foods spokesperson told Mississippi Today in a statement. Quality Service Integrity did not reply to a request for comment. 

The same year, Orozco filed another complaint against Peco Foods in Sebastopol, his previous employer, claiming they charged him for tools and other equipment required for the job. He told Mississippi Today he spent roughly $150 on tools alone. 

“The company didn’t take responsibility for anything for us,” he said. “We had to buy our tools, the wrenches, everything you use to remove a screw.”

Peco Foods had previously been fined $6,000 in May 2023 for failing to replace workers’ equipment at no cost.

Enforcement failures

Occasional citations might be one-time victories for workers, but Orozco says they do not lead to long-term improvement.

“When OSHA came by, things did calm down, more or less. But after a couple days, the same things started happening, because OSHA never followed up on the case,” he said.

Quality Service Integrity’s operations with Tyson in Carthage have not been inspected again since the citation was issued.

OSHA’s data reveals that inspections in Mississippi’s poultry plants are scarce. Tyson Foods plants were not inspected for four years before Orozco’s filing. Koch Foods was inspected twice in the past five years.

A report published by a federation of labor unions in April stated it would take 243 years for Mississippi’s seven OSHA inspectors to visit every workplace once.

“Most workplaces never see OSHA unless a complaint is filed, or a worker is killed, or there are very serious injuries that are reported,” Berkowitz said in an email.

Nine of the 20 inspections performed by OSHA in Mississippi’s poultry plants in the past five years were initiated by a worker complaint. Mar-Jac poultry plants were inspected three times following the death of a worker in three years – and fined $163,759 in 2023 after the death of a 16 year-old on the job.

“OSHA’s top priority for inspection is an imminent danger –- a situation where workers face an immediate risk of death or serious physical harm,” a Department of Labor spokesperson said. Second priority goes to fatalities or accidents where three or more workers are hospitalized. Employee complaints come next, the spokesperson said. 

OSHA typically does not give advance notice of an inspection, except in certain specific situations. But when OSHA inspectors come unannounced, plant managers can refuse to let them in and ask them to come back with a warrant. 

Maria, who resigned from her job at Peco Foods in Sebastopol after she broke her spine in a car accident in December 2022, is unable to work today. Because she got injured on her way to work, she was eligible for workers’ compensation. But she never claimed it, in fear of upsetting her employer.

“I was scared,” she said. “What if they call the police or ICE on me?”

Awaiting surgery in hopes of getting fully back on her feet, Maria struggles to make ends meet for herself and the three children she’s raising alone. 

“I don’t have a work permit, I’m just another immigrant, but I fight. I fight every day to raise my children. I don’t depend on the government,” she said.

Leonard Bevilacqua contributed to this report.

Lili Euzet, a French trilingual reporter, joined Mississippi Today for a 10-week fellowship through the University of California Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism.