Ass-ended. The worst first impression. A hot, cramping mess.
Every Trace innkeeper met me at my worst.
Usually after I walked my daily fifteen.
Imagine.
An unkempt woman in a hat knocks on your door. Her body-odor seeps through the weather stripping and almost flattens you. When you stick your nose through a crack, you find her doubled over, leaning on your priceless porch furniture. Her stained clothes soil your cushion covers, and her first words to you are, “Where’s the bed?”
Carol Koutroulis, proprietress of Bridges Hall Manor in Houston, Mississippi, swept me into her foyer and lodged herself in my heart. She took one look at me and knew I couldn’t walk long enough for the grand tour. Instead, she led me upstairs, showed me the fridge stocked with Coca-Cola and deposited me on a dream of a bed.
Some people have the gift of insight.
Carol understands people.
She ushered Dad downstairs and listened to him talk for hours. When I was hungry, she showed Mom Houston’s hidden gems. I passed out on my second afternoon there, and when I awoke, I remembered all my clothes were dirty. She stayed up until almost midnight doing my laundry. “I don’t want you walking the Trace in smelly clothes. Not while you’re here.”
For four nights, she bestowed supreme care upon my parents and me. I almost cried when it was time to leave her. Mansions can be lovely, but their people give them soul.
Carol Koutroulis is a soul I’ll never forget.
I’m lucky to call her friend.
If you’ve ever dreamed of Making an Elvis Memory, Carol’s Bridges Hall Manor is a comfortable, welcoming base. With a wealth of Natchez Trace stops close by, you can be standing next to Elvis’ front porch swing in thirty minutes.
Find out more about Bridges Hall Manor HERE.
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10 Comments
My copy arrived this morning!
Glad to hear it, Joanna. I hope you enjoy the Rednecks Whiiiiiiiiite Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer story. 🙂 (And the rest of the book.)
It is very telling when a person meets you, knows immediately that it’s “all about you,” and suspends their disbelief until you are cared for. It’s a gamble for them, but they see something there that allows them to understand that a blooming friendship will be special. Good story.
Carol is one of my very favorite people. I’m so fortunate to have met her.
She sounds like a cross between Florence Nightingale and and angel. How wonderful that she helped ease your journey in these small ways (which were really large kindnesses.) These are the kinds of gestures that we remember all our lives.
To me, they were ginormous, life-altering kindnesses. I was wiped, and she restored me. Every day, I got up and walked another fifteen because of Carol.
Sounds like my kind of lady! Just as you’re my kind of lady! Enjoy the “tickle” week. 🙂
We shall try. I may post a few photos on FB (NOT of the tickling), but I may just leave our destination a mystery.
Carol is a wonderful hostess and person. You were lucky to have met someone who would stay up so late to do your laundry. That’s awesome.
how lucky that you two crossed paths, literally and figuratively.
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