Drove from Memphis down into Mississippi to go to a famous barbecue joint I can’t seem to remember the name of. The barbecue ended up being fine, but we all know East Carolina barbecue is best.

Anyways, rural Mississippi is the kind of empty that I have yet to see on the East Coast. Sure, there are parts of New England that are rural, but even the most rural parts of Vermont still have people.

At one point, we saw a rusted out train stopped on an abandoned railroad track and stopped to take a photo. It was only after we got out of the car that we realized something was off.

Nearby, there were pieces of wood nailed into crosses and shoved into the ground. Mounds of dirt. Little or no grass. Thankfully, we pulled off where we did because, otherwise, we’d have parked on what was clearly a graveyard.

It still gives me chills to this day. Not that we were by a graveyard. The hand-dug, barely-marked graves themselves.