“Hey, it’s good to be back home again…”

John Denver played and sang that song.

Reid Bishop does, too.

And he can also relate to it.

Sitting in a rocking chair in the Cotton kitchen last week, Bishop reflected on some of his adventures since he was born in the Cook County Hospital in Chicago. That’s right. He’s a Yankee baby, as his grandpa used to say, but it was just an accident of birth because that’s where his Mississippi parents were when he made his debut into the world 38 years ago.

He grew up on the coast, but adopted Vicksburg — a place where he lived as a child but with some formative time in Campbell’s Swamp. He’s still in awe of the allure and mystique of the city, of the history, “sort of a deep melancholy which I find very satisfying.”

As a child, he went to Halls Ferry and Cooper schools, but living in the Cotton home made some lasting impressions: the only TV was a 1950 Zenith with a round screen the size of a dinner plate — and it didn’t work. Nor will he forget the wonderful colors the Rubic’s Cube made when it was dropped into the fireplace after he and his brother Chuck fought over it. He’s not forgotten his ramblings among the trees and along the creeks — and then many years later, in his college days, when he was going to stay in the cabin in the woods until a copperhead fell off an overhead beam onto his head and shoulders. Reid headed to the house, where he had rather “face Grandma Cotton’s ghost.”

After leaving Mississippi, the Bishops lived in Missouri, Illinois, Michigan and Hawaii (his father was with Bechtel). But now Reid is back home, the director of the Mississippi River Field Institute with Audubon Society. He’s not all the way home, but he’s pretty close. He and his wife, Kelley, and their children — Clare, Cole and Ella — live in Clinton.

Reid’s major training is in science, but he also has talent in art, music, research and education. He grew up loving music. His dad played guitar, and his mother sang gospel music. He taught himself to play the banjo, clawhammer or Grandpa Jones style, and plays the fiddle, bass and guitar. He made his debut on the grounds of the Old Court House Museum when he was 11, playing “Boil Them Cabbage Down.”

The family was transferred to Missouri where he took lessons from Cathy Barton Para, playing the violin, “but I knew I wanted to be a fiddler — it’s a virtuoso instrument.” His favorite, though is the banjo — “so Southern, like a one-man band.”

Reid’s interest in art coincides with his love of science for, as a kid, he read science fiction and started drawing covers for books.

“It became sort of an obsession to actually draw people,” he said, which eventually led to enrolling in art school at the University of Illinois.

The family moved again, going to Hawaii, where Reid said he “did nothing but draw and paint for 10 months while trying to get off the island. I felt like I was trapped and developed rock fever. I found myself driving in a circle, and then in an hour I was back where I started.” He got a job in an espresso shop (“I didn’t even know what it was. Dumb kid.”) but it made enough money for a one-way ticket home.

“I’d been trying to get back to Mississippi for a long time,” he said. A friend introduced him to the idea of going to Mississippi College, and the legacy left by a favorite uncle helped make it possible. At MC, he was taking biology and chemistry classes when he met a man who would become his mentor and one of his best friends, Dr. Sam Gore, head of the art department at MC.

“We met in the stairwell in Aven Hall. He was wearing that funny Eskimo hat. I asked him if I could mix art and science for a double major.”

Gore quickly had him enrolled in classes which saw Reid’s repertoire expand from drawing to sculpture, primarily clay and the lost wax process and castings in bronze. Later Hobbs Freeman taught him copper welding, and he worked with Dr. Gore on several museum pieces, including the one of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, which is near the MC chapel.

Reid’s most significant meeting at MC was when he took a class with Kelley Easley from Vardaman. He and the pretty redhead worked on some papers together, romance blossomed, and in 1993 they married. After graduating from MC, both went to University Medical Center, Reid earning a doctorate in chemistry and Kelly a medical degree. He did post-doctoral work at Emory and then at the University of Georgia where Kelley became chief resident in family medicine. A move back to Mississippi found him teaching at Millsaps, then at Mississippi College, where he was a professor of analytical chemistry and biochemistry, and Kelley began practice in Clinton and Jackson.

The illness of Reid’s father, Gary Bishop, who suffered from prostate cancer for four years, brought several changes in Reid’s life. He took a medical and sabbatical leave from MC to care for his father. He also had time to work in his sculpture studio — and time to think.

“That was a time of great spiritual growth for me,” he said. “I decided life was too short spending it doing things I didn’t want to do. That was when I also became more active in my church, Shiloh Primitive Baptist, and my good friend, Hobbs Freeman, who also attended Shiloh, counseled me a lot, giving me the courage to make personal and professional moves.”

After his father’s death, Reid was looking for ways to use his life and talents. A friend told him about the job at Audubon, “and here I am.”

It’s not all about birds, he said, quipping that his favorite bird “is a yard bird – fried. I’m not a bird expert. Audubon has no shortage of people who are. I’m a scientist,” and his job is about the expanding program, of protecting the entire habitat of the lower Mississippi watershed, which is in decline, for both wildlife and man.

His personal goal, Reid said, “is to use my science education background to connect people in this area with their forgotten neighbor, the Mississippi River, for the habitats that it supports will decline further if we don’t get people involved.” The job, he said, “is like the ultimate, professional Boy Scout. (He earned an Eagle ran and a Vigil Honor).

He credits Bruce Reid, head of the Audubon program here, (“A nice guy, a great boss”) for having the vision, along with others, to start the Mississippi River Field Institute.

What’s it like to be home again?

“It’s like I’ve never been away — though they say I talk kind of funny for a Mississippi boy.”

Clare, at 10, is learning the fiddle, and Cole, 5, has started on the drums. Reid doesn’t have as much time for art and music, though he doesn’t neglect them. Usually, you’ll find him on Sundays at Shiloh where he helps lead the singing and sometimes brings a message. He described it as a church “that teaches the basic Christian tenets without any of the trimmings.”

“It’s nice to be home and be part of things you really value,” he said. “The only problem is, you can’t lie to anyone, because everyone knows exactly who you are — and that’s scary.”

If he has a warped sense of humor, as has been suggested, “It’s because I got it from you and Charlie Gholson. I had to defend myself!”

Gordon Cotton is an author and historian who lives in Vicksburg.