“There’s one!” When we have the chance for a family road trip, I’m likely to hear this from one of my children. I consider it a surprising byproduct of dragging them too often through back roads, two-lane highways, and sometimes questionable alleys in an attempt to capture photographs. Their exclamation usually refers to some specimen of graffiti, hand-painted letters or murals on the side of a building, or retro signage they may have spotted. I guess I’ve trained their vision through experience. These days, when I suggest we should take the long way to this place or that, one of them invariably adds “so you can get some photos!” I take an odd pride in the fact that they no longer question or wonder when I say “let’s just pull off here.” I think they’ve either accepted this strange penchant or decided it doesn’t matter — maybe even embraced the pursuit by discovering something of their own. As my astute 14-year-old reminds me, “weird is wonderful.” And, I suppose that explains this latest foray into Mississippi Delta letters and numbers.
I’m just oddly fascinated with signs. That’s what it boils down to. As a graphic designer, I spend a lot of my time combining words and pictures to represent organizations or communicate messages. So, I feel a kindred spirit with the small business owner hanging a hand-painted declaration that he’s open for business. Or, the peek into a decades-old builder marking his construction with the name of a business or a plea to purchase Coke or chewing gum. Or, the modern artist claiming the cityscape for his own personal statement of beliefs. It’s gutsy. Laying down signposts in business or in life is just gutsy.
Today, I’ve gathered another collection of letters and numbers found in Greenwood, Mississippi — signs, both new and old, that caught our eyes on a “pull off” adventure in the Delta. I’ll probably spend the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about who painted them or hung them or designed them. And, what community milestones and these letters and numbers marked.