Life at Java Joe's
Sherry O'Murray, co-owner of Java Joe's came to Biloxi by way of Chicago, Texas, Florida, and overseas (armed forces). "It just grows on you here." You got that right. But for a mortgage, student loans, two cats, clients I'm loyal to, and a church family that is, well, family, I think I really would come down here and stay a while. A long while.
Sherry, who reminds me of a younger sister of the actor Tommy Lee Jones, goes about the business of making coffee for the locals (and peop
le like me who have managed to find it) each day with a weary pride. Weary, because she sorely needs help.
Seeing how much people love coming here, I wondered why she hasn't been flooded with applications by jobless folks. I overheard at least one answer when some customers were discussing the same issue--unemployment comp pays more. And has "bennies" (benefits) that Sherry probably cannot afford.
The line can be long--Sherry individually brews each cup except for the "House Coffee"--but no one seems to mind. I sure don't. I've been harboring a little secret which I'm outting myself on today--I LOVE the breakfast biscuit they serve here. Oh my. The biscuit is large and flaky and fresh and made like it is supposed to be, and like few have tasted northward of the Mason-Dixon. The egg, cheese, and sausage are probably little different than elsewhere, but putting those ingredients on that biscuit, and having it served to you by Sherry, well you feel like a princess.
Today, I know I've become part of the local scene, as I rate having my biscuit on a cut glass salad plate. Reminds me being at tea with my grandmother. Or at an afternoon wedding reception being held at a country church.
Yep. I live for that biscuit, even if it means waiting until well after 9 for it, having gotten up at 6.
I ask three of the "regulars" if I can take their picture, and they seem flattered and pleased. They've all lost everything they had except what little they took with them during the storm. One is now renting a house; the other two live in FEMA trailers on their respective properties. They have settled into a daily routine of going to Mass down the street, then walking somewhere for breakfast, then going for another walk along the beach. Sometimes for a change of scenery, they eat breakfast at the hospital. And they recommend the food there. But given that I've seen them here ever time I've been here, I have to think they prefer Sherry's food. Or coffee.
Sherry, who reminds me of a younger sister of the actor Tommy Lee Jones, goes about the business of making coffee for the locals (and peop
le like me who have managed to find it) each day with a weary pride. Weary, because she sorely needs help.Seeing how much people love coming here, I wondered why she hasn't been flooded with applications by jobless folks. I overheard at least one answer when some customers were discussing the same issue--unemployment comp pays more. And has "bennies" (benefits) that Sherry probably cannot afford.
The line can be long--Sherry individually brews each cup except for the "House Coffee"--but no one seems to mind. I sure don't. I've been harboring a little secret which I'm outting myself on today--I LOVE the breakfast biscuit they serve here. Oh my. The biscuit is large and flaky and fresh and made like it is supposed to be, and like few have tasted northward of the Mason-Dixon. The egg, cheese, and sausage are probably little different than elsewhere, but putting those ingredients on that biscuit, and having it served to you by Sherry, well you feel like a princess.
Today, I know I've become part of the local scene, as I rate having my biscuit on a cut glass salad plate. Reminds me being at tea with my grandmother. Or at an afternoon wedding reception being held at a country church.
Yep. I live for that biscuit, even if it means waiting until well after 9 for it, having gotten up at 6.
I ask three of the "regulars" if I can take their picture, and they seem flattered and pleased. They've all lost everything they had except what little they took with them during the storm. One is now renting a house; the other two live in FEMA trailers on their respective properties. They have settled into a daily routine of going to Mass down the street, then walking somewhere for breakfast, then going for another walk along the beach. Sometimes for a change of scenery, they eat breakfast at the hospital. And they recommend the food there. But given that I've seen them here ever time I've been here, I have to think they prefer Sherry's food. Or coffee.
posted by Elizabeth Hokama at 10:31 AM
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