GOOD OLD BOY: A DELTA BOYHOOD is a novel for young readers about a boy's adventures growing up in post-WWII Mississippi. Author Willie Morris, then editor of Harper's Magazine in New York, wrote GOOD OLD BOY when his son David, age ten, asked, "What was it like to grow up in Mississippi?" Morris's response turned into a timeless story of growing up in Yazoo City, Mississippi, in the early 1950s, roaming the town with his friends and playing practical jokes and having adventures. GOOD OLD BOY is recommended for sixth through ninth grade.

In the course of his career Willie Morris (1934-1999) attained national prominence as a journalist, editor, nonfiction writer, novelist, memoirist, and news commentator. As this eloquent book reveals, he was also a master essayist whose gift was in crafting short compositions. Shifting Interludes, an anthology that spans his career of forty years, includes pieces he wrote for the Daily Texan, Texas Observer, the Washington Star, Vanity Fair, Southern Living, and other publications. These diverse works reflect the scope of Morris's wide-ranging interests. The collection comprises biographical profiles, newspaper editorials and columns, political analyses, travel narratives, sports commentaries, book reviews, and his thoughts--both critical and affectionate-about his beloved home state of Mississippi. Two essays are previously unpublished--""A Long-ago Rendezvous with Alger Hiss"" and ""The Day I Followed the Mayor around Town."" One essay, ""Mississippi Rebel on a Texas Campus,"" is the first article he wrote for a national publication. Morris's subjects reflect his autobiography, his poignant feelings, and his courtly manners. He expresses his outrage as he decries Southern racism in ""Despair in Mississippi,"" his melancholy as he recounts a visit to his hometown Yazoo City in ""The Rain Fell Noiselessly,"" his grace as he salutes a college football team and its fallen comrade in ""In the Spirit of the Game,"" his humor as he admits to a bout of middle-age infatuation in ""Mitch and the Infield Fly Rule,"" and his pensiveness as he remembers his much-loved grandmother Mamie in ""Weep No More, My Lady."" Willie Morris is one of Mississippi's most acclaimed writers and a former editor of Harper's. University Press of Mississippi reissued two of his works, North Toward Home and The Courting of Marcus Dupree, and most recently published My Mississippi, on which he collaborated with his son, the photographer David Rae Morris. Jack Bales, the reference and humanities librarian at Mary Washington College and a friend of Morris's, compiled and edited Conversations with Willie Morris (also published by the University Press of Mississippi).

Love, Daddy: Letters from My Father examines the complexities of father-and-son relationships through letters and photographs. Willie Morris wrote scores of letters to his only son, David Rae Morris, from the mid-1970s until Willie's death in 1999. From David Rae's perspective, his father was often emotionally disconnected and lived a peculiar lifestyle, often staying out carousing well into the night. But Willie Morris was an eloquent and accomplished writer and began to write his son long, loving, and supportive letters when David Rae was still in high school. An aspiring photographer, David Rae was confused and befuddled by his father's warring personalities and began photographing Willie using the camera as a buffer to protect him and his emotions. The collection begins in early 1976 and continues for more than twenty years as David Rae moved about the country, living in New York, Massachusetts, Texas, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Minnesota, before finally settling in Louisiana. "All the while my father was writing to me I somehow managed to save his letters," David Rae wrote. "I left them in storage and in boxes and in piles of clutter on desks and in basements. They were kind, offering a love that he found difficult to express openly and directly. He simply was more comfortable communicating through letters." The letters cover topics ranging from writing, the weather, Willie's return to Mississippi in 1980, the Ole Miss football season, and local town gossip to the fleas on the dog to just life and how it's lived. Likewise, the photographs are portraits, documentary images of daily life, dinners, outings, and private moments. Together they narrate and illuminate the complexities of one family relationship, and how, for better or worse, that love endures the passage of time.

Brimming with his rich humor, Jerry Clower's book manifests the unsurpassed southern art of yarn spinning. It shows as well the nature of the man for whom good storytelling is more than just show business.

Nashville's funniest man had a serious side. Deep in the merry heart of this comic entertainer were the codes and values that made him an esteemed humanitarian.

He was named America's best country comic for nine years in a row and was called "the funniest American storyteller since Will Rogers" and "the Mouth of the Mighty Mississippi." This boisterous, down-home man's loving, extroverted manner and his forthright display of positive feelings for others arose from the substance of sober, rock-solid regional values he gained from maturing in the rural South. "Stories from Home" embraces both Jerry Clowers, the funny man and the serious man, and shows his anecdotal humor in the mainstream of the South's great oral tradition of folktales and narratives.

Jerry Clower's hilarious stories about possum hunting, coon dogs, and the rambunctious Ledbetter clan were standards in his stage routines, videos, and albums. In "Stories from Home" many of his fans' favorite Clower tales are included. Here, too, is a long interview in which he explored his beliefs and tells how he gained firm convictions about race, religion, education, and family as well as an intolerance of negativism.

In "the finest evocation of an American boyhood since Mark Twain" (Sunday Times, London), Morris goes beyond "a simple retelling of what has happened to him . . . to explain in large part what was happening in the forties, fifites, and sixties" (New Republic).

In this classic portrait of Jews in the South, Eli N. Evans takes readers inside the nexus of southern and Jewish histories, from the earliest immigrants to the present day. Evoking the rhythms and heartbeat of Jewish life in the Bible belt, Evans weaves together chapters of recollections from his youth and early years in North Carolina with chapters that explore the experiences of Jews in many southern cities and small towns. He presents the stories of communities, individuals, and events in this quintessential American landscape, making clear the deeply intertwined strands of southern and Jewish life. First published in 1973 and updated in 1997, The Provincials was one of the first books to survey the history and contributions of Jews in the South. No other book on this subject combines elements of memoir and history in such a compelling way. This edition includes a gallery of more than two dozen family and historical photographs as well as a new introduction by the author.

In New York Days, the long-awaited sequel to the prize-winning North Toward Home, Willie Morris recalls his triumphant, exciting, and ultimately devastating years as the youngest ever editor-in-chief of Harper's, America's oldest magazine, when he was at the center of the nation's stunning cosmos of writing, publishing, politics, and the arts. It was the 1960s, when New York City was a place "throbbing with possibility" and "in which everyone seemed to know everyone else and where everything of importance seemed to happen first". These were Willie Morris's New York days - with William Styron, David Halberstam, Woody Allen, Bobby Kennedy, Truman Capote, Shirley MacLaine, George Plimpton, Leonard Bernstein, and the other leading figures of the time. For he knew them all: the writers, the poets, the intellectuals, the editors, the actresses, the tycoons, the detectives, the athletes, and not a few fakirs and charlatans. He wined with Sinatra at the Players Club and eavesdropped in the trattorias on the Mob; sat next to DiMaggio in the Garden ringside seats and spent evenings at Elaine's. And during the day, Morris worked to transform Harper's from an uninspired literary magazine to its apex as the groundbreaking political and cultural voice of the '60s, until the editorial rift and the mass resignations of 1971 - possibly the most notable dispute in American publishing history. New York Days is a portrait of an era, but it is also a poignant, deeply personal yet universal story of a man's life: a man who attains everything he has ever hoped for only to realize that what he has sacrificed is even greater. For in the process of reaching the pinnacle of his career, Morris also experiencedprofound loss: the dissolution of his marriage and the breakdown of the magazine as he helped create it. Now, from a vantage point of more than twenty years and a thousand miles, Morris asks his younger self: "Where on earth, fast-moving boy, are you going now?" And what, if anything, did it all mean? Beautifully written with bittersweet lyricism and exuberant humor, New York Days captures the spirit of the '60s: the dazzling parties, the fervent intellectualism, and the sense of slowly decaying idealism as the country plunged deeper into a tragic war and intensifying social chaos. And in the midst of this scene is Willie Morris, exalted, exhilarated, and eventually almost consumed by his brilliant, electric, enervating New York days.

Carol Hollywell is beautiful, smart, elegant, and charming. A debutante from De Soto Point, Arkansas, and a recent graduate of Ole Miss, she is heir to a good southern name and a small southern fortune. She knows what she wants and, more important, knows how to get it. She is, in other words, the prototypical southern belle, a Scarlett O'Hara for the 1950s, and when she moves to Washington, D.C., in 1957, she sets, the town on its ear. Willie Morris' cleverly conceived and brilliantly executed novel (loosely based on a real-life figure) follows this headstrong woman from her arrival in the Capital and traces the ups and downs of her life in the political and social whirl of the city over the next decade and a half. Eventually, she becomes romantically involved with a prominent congressman - an idealist, a reformer, a man perhaps headed for the very pinnacle of political life. It is at first a dazzling alliance, yet the genuine satisfactions they find in their relationship cannot long withstand the pressures of the ambitions both of them harbor. The very drives that initially brought them together in the end propel their love affair into jeopardy. Morris paints a devastatingly accurate portrait not only of a power-hungry woman but also of the society that feeds such hunger. His descriptions of Washington and its denizens - the politicos, the journalists, the socialities, and the hangers-on - are nothing short of breathtaking.

In 1967, when this brave book was first published, Myrlie Evers said, "Somewhere in Mississippi lives the man who murdered my husband."

Medgar Evers died in a horrifying act of political violence. Among both blacks and whites the killing of this Mississippi civil rights leader intensified the menacing moods of unrest and discontent generated during the civil rights era. His death seemed to usher in a succession of political shootings--Evers, then John Kennedy, then Martin Luther King, Jr., then Robert Kennedy.

At thirty-seven while field secretary for the NAACP, Evers was gunned down in Jackson, Mississippi, during the summer of 1963. Byron De La Beckwith, an arch segregationist charged with the crime, was released after two trials with hung juries. In 1994, after new evidence surfaced thirty years later, Beckwith was arrested and tried a third time. Medgar Evers's widow saw him convicted and jailed with a life sentence.

In "For Us, the Living" this extraordinary woman tells a moving story of her courtship and of her marriage to this heroic man who learned to live with the probability of violent death. She describes her husband's unrelenting devotion to the quest of achieving civil rights for thousands of black Mississippians and of his ultimate sacrifice on that hot summer night.

With this reprinting of her poignant yet painful memoir, a book long out of print comes back to life and underscores the sacrifice of Medgar Evers and his family.

Introduced in a reflective essay written by the acclaimed Mississippi author Willie Morris, this account of Evers's professional and family life will cause readers to ponder how his tragic martyrdom quickened the pace of justice for black people while withholding justice from him for thirty years. Since the conviction of Beckwith in a dramatic and historical trial in a Mississippi court there has been renewed acclaim for Evers. One speculates that, had he lived, he might have attained even more for the equality of African Americans in national life.

The final work from one of America's most beloved authors and an instant classic, TAPS takes readers on one last fictional journey to Willie Morris's South and spins a tender, powerful, very American story about the vanishing beauty of a charmed way of life and the fleeting boyhood of a young man coming of age in a time of war. In Fisk’s Landing, Mississippi, at the dawn of the Korean War, sixteen-year-old Swayze Barksdale is suddenly called to an unexpected duty - playing "Taps" at the gravesides of the town’s young casualties sent home from the front. Gradually, Swayze begins to pace his life around these all too frequent funerals, where his horn sounds the tragic note of the times. At turns funny, at turns poignant, TAPS abounds with colorful characters and yet "sings and sighs . . . with a kind of minor key wistfulness" (Arkansas Democrat-Gazette) as Swayze learns what it means to be a patriot, a son, a lover, a friend, a man.

At the time of Marcus Dupree's birth, when Deep South racism was about to crest and shatter against the Civil Rights Movement, Willie Morris journeyed north in a circular transit peculiar to southern writers. His memoir of those years, "North Toward Home," became a modern classic. In "The Courting of Marcus Dupree" he turned again home to Mississippi to write about the small town of Philadelphia and its favorite son, a black high-school quarterback. In Marcus Dupree, Morris found a living emblem of that baroque strain in the American character called "southern."

Beginning on the summer practice fields, Morris follows Marcus Dupree through each game of his senior varsity year. He talks with the Dupree family, the college recruiters, the coach and the school principal, some of the teachers and townspeople, and, of course, with the young man himself. As the season progresses and the seventeen-year-old Dupree attracts a degree of national attention to Philadelphia neither known nor endured since "the Troubles" of the early sixties, these conversations take on a wider significance. Willie Morris has created more than a spectator's journal. He writes here of his repatriation to a land and a people who have recovered something that fear and misdirected loyalties had once eclipsed. The result is a fascinating, unusual, and even topical work that tells a story richer than its apparent subject, for it brings the whole of the eighties South, with all its distinctive resonances, to life.