From Benton to Beale Street
June 26th, 2007
Clayton and I started our day in a tuxedo shop in Benton, a small, sleepy town outside Little Rock, where the couple we’ve been profiling for the story on covenant marriages was shopping for their wedding.
This was no ordinary tux shop – a Bible lay open on a pedestal near the door, and the owner took off his heavy ring and held it toward us. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, suddenly serious. We shook our heads. He asked again for emphasis.
It’s the Seal of the Knight’s Templar, he said, without a smile. We nodded. He then looked at the bride-to-be: “A virtuous woman is more precious than rubies,” he said. “If anyone doesn’t approve, they can find another tuxedo shop.”
Now it was her turn to nod. In this small, one-street town private beliefs are front and center.
By evening we were rolling into Memphis for a different sort of religious experience. First stop: Rendezvous, a 60-year old back-alley rib joint that has become somewhat of a pilgrimage destination for meat lovers from around the world. A somewhat incongruous stream of pasty-legged middle class pilgrims were making a sharp right turn into the small back alley, following their noses to the rib-stacked ovens in the basement. Inside the door, smoke pouring from a tiny kitchen, a sign proudly proclaimed: “Not since Adam has a rib been this famous.”
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