Legacy Isn’t a Dream—It’s a Decision

My father’s family is from a little town in Arkansas called Marianna, about 30 minutes from Memphis. It’s so small. The roads are intermittently paved. The church has no signage, no decadence, holds about 30 people. There are no easily identifiable street names. To visit family I know to look for Clifford’s place (that’s my cousin’s house frame that he intends to build a proper juke joint on),...