A Not Very Innocent Celebration

To celebrate her graduation from Central High School, Charlotte Capers hosted a dance in a ballroom at the Edward Hotel from nine pm to one am. A notice of it was printed in the Clarion Ledger, where Miss Capers would eventually contribute articles, but no mention was made of a guest list. Choosing such a central location meant that her guests could arrive and leave by the Mississippi Power Company streetcar, which would have been convenient for everyone.

By today's standards, I'm sure this seems very quint, conjuring images of over-starched satin dresses with layers of petticoats, white kid gloves, and boys on the precipice of leaving Mississippi to fight the Germans or the Japanese. Refreshments were served, and a light orchestra played. Judging things by today’s standards isn’t always the best way to understand a thing.

This all sounds picturesque, but I can assure you there was a more scurrilous undertone to the whole affair, bordering on scandalous. First, you must understand that Mr. Caper’s parent was Father Capers, the head man at St. Andrews Church, and by extension, something like the head Episcopalian in Mississippi.

Episcopalians, as you may know, are entirely soft on the issue of dancing. In Jackson, dancing is forbidden on the campus of Millsaps and Belhaven. At Mississippi College, even if a girl behaves herself on campus, she can be expelled for dancing anywhere else. Even by the 1950s, my grandfather received a sternly worded letter from the Methodist Bishop of Mississippi demanding that he remove the "jukebox" from the bookstore of the Student Union at Millsaps because the music was tempting the students with dancing.

While they make agreeable neighbors and, I'm sure, are fine people in many ways, Episcopalians hold other controversial beliefs besides a tolerance for dancing. There are activities that decent people relegate to the Eastern and Rankin County shores of the Pearl River that Episcopalians celebrate in their own homes. Indeed, you could hit a baseball on the steps of St. Andrews and catch it at the Crystal Lake Clubhouse. Crystal Lake, as you may know, is often the scene of such debauchery that Emperor Nero himself would feel at home. Episcopalians, as I'm told, do not celebrate the Eucharist with new wine like decent people, even though you've been able to purchase pasteurized new wine from Welch's Company in a can for many years now. Episcopalians use fully adulterated, sickly sweet port wine for their Lord's Table, acquired, I'm sure, by some contraband method, probably from some demonic Italian gangster in New Orleans.

It's all right and good to celebrate your child's achievements in life, particularly the academic ones, but celebrating them at a downtown establishment known primarily for hosting legislators and gambling was, at best, ill-advised. The presence of electric lights, street cars, colleges, and libraries might make Jackson seem deliciously metropolitan, but this is not New York, and certain levels of civil behavior must be maintained.