(Photo from Aberdeen Visitors Bureau)
- Tucked into Monroe County, Mardi Gras in Aberdeen began the way many good ideas do: scribbled on a napkin.
If you had told me a few years ago that Mardi Gras beads would be raining down Main Street in Aberdeen, Mississippi, I might have raised an eyebrow—and then asked what time the parade started.
Aberdeen sits quietly in North Mississippi, the kind of town where Friday night lights still matter, where people wave from passing trucks, and where celebrations tend to follow familiar rhythms. Mardi Gras, traditionally, hasn’t been one of them. But every once in a while, a small town decides to do something unexpected. And when it works, it works beautifully.
Tucked into Monroe County, Aberdeen is near the Tenn-Tom Waterway, and is a town full of history, art, and community events that feel easy, familiar, and genuinely local.
Mardi Gras in Aberdeen began the way many good ideas do: scribbled on a napkin.
“What about Mardi Gras?” someone wrote.
That question—originally floated as a fundraiser for the local animal shelter—sparked what has become one of the most joyful, surprising, and family-friendly celebrations in North Mississippi. According to Tina Robbins, director of the Aberdeen Visitors Bureau, the idea took shape in February of 2020, just weeks before the world shut down.
It was a hit.
A big one.
The inspiration came from Dwight Stevens—now Aberdeen’s mayor—and his time spent in what Robbins affectionately calls “Carnival country.” Stevens, an antique auctioneer by trade, had experienced the culture, the music, and the communal joy of Mardi Gras and wondered why that same type of celebration couldn’t happen in North Mississippi.
Why not Aberdeen?
The inaugural event drew a crowd, created buzz, and filled downtown with the clatter of beads hitting pavement, the sound of music bouncing off brick storefronts, and the unmistakable hum of people lingering instead of rushing home. Something special had started.
And then—COVID.
The following year, parades and public gatherings were off the table, but Aberdeen wasn’t willing to let the momentum disappear.
“We didn’t want to lose the energy we had created before the pandemic,” Robbins said. “So we did a reverse parade.”
Instead of lining the streets, organizers piled into their cars and drove through neighborhoods, tossing beads from windows while families waved from driveways and front lawns. Kids chased strings of purple, green, and gold across sidewalks. It wasn’t traditional—but it was creative, and it kept the spirit alive.
When festivities resumed the next year, they didn’t just come back–they leveled up.
One of the most talked-about elements of Aberdeen’s Mardi Gras is its fleet of decommissioned school buses. The tops were cut off. The buses were painted bright purple, green, and yellow. And suddenly, they became rolling bead-throwing stages, filled with laughter and music.
“I tell everyone, ‘Aberdeen has gone topless!’” Robbins laughed.
Those buses are now a signature part of the parade, joined by floats, walkers, dancers twirling umbrellas, and majorettes of all ages—some in their 70s—performing in tutus with smiles that say they wouldn’t miss this for anything. There’s an alumni band, familiar songs echoing through downtown, and plenty of room for kids to dance along the sidelines.
“It’s a lot of fun,” Robbins said—and that might be the understatement of the year.
This year’s celebration is shaping up to be the biggest yet, with a strong emphasis on keeping the event welcoming and family-friendly. Festivities begin at 3 p.m., transforming downtown Aberdeen into something between a block party and a carnival. Expect backyard-style games, putt-putt set up right down Main Street, food trucks sending out the smells of fried favorites and sweet treats, live music drifting through the air, festive mocktails, and yes—warm, powdered-sugar-dusted beignets.
At 4 p.m., the Aberdeen High School Flight Academy—known as the Sky Dawgs—will add a jaw-dropping moment to the afternoon with a flyover, drawing eyes skyward and cheers from the crowd.
The parade rolls at 6 p.m., and last year’s crowd topped 1,200 people, with visitors coming from across North Mississippi and even Memphis. Beads fly. Moon pies arc through the air. Cups and throws scatter across outstretched hands.
“It’s a three block route, and it rains beads,” Robbins said.
And that’s really the heart of it. Mardi Gras in Aberdeen isn’t about replicating New Orleans. It’s about borrowing a little magic, remixing it, and making it unmistakably local. It’s about kids on shoulders, grandparents in folding chairs, neighbors lingering downtown long after the last float passes.
“Mardi Gras in Aberdeen is another opportunity to gather together, celebrate, and explore what we have to offer here,” Robbins said. “We want folks to come out and catch some beads, and enjoy themselves.”
North Mississippi may not be traditional carnival territory—but Aberdeen didn’t ask permission to let the good times roll. Instead, they asked a question, wrote it on a napkin, and turned it into something joyful.
And sometimes, that’s exactly how the best Mississippi stories begin.
