In the universal sign for "let me hold a dollar" a lanky black man lunges up to the car making a circular motion with his right hand. I roll the window down...
"You got a couple of dollars I can hold?"
I reached in my front pocket and pulled out a folded dollar bill that had been in there days.
"That's all I got...You gettin' my last dollar brother."
"You got 35 more cents?"
I laughed and dug it out for him.
"Man you ain't got another dolla?"
"I told you that was my last dollar...I need to get movin' brother. The poleese see my white face stopped on the street like this and they're gonna think one thing."
"You need some drugs man?"
"Naw I don't need no Drugs. I can't be monkeyin' around up here I gotta get back to Jackson."
"You goin' to Jackson? Today?...Oh hold on a second. Wait right here.."
Then he started off toward a house...
"Brother I gotta go. I'm workin'."
"A'ight...A'ight."
What on Earth he wanted me to transport down to Jackson we'll never know but, in my experience it could have been anything from nickle bag of dope to his Grandmama.
I was down there yesterday morning because the night before I couldn't get any pictures...there must have been 10 cops down there and at least that many people lined up on the sidewalk.
I've seen Blues Travel sites nonchalantly explain how easy it is to fly into Memphis, rent a car and drive down into The Delta...Clarkesdale, Leland, Indianolo are "just a two and a half hour drive." I'd like to hear how that's worked out for some of these folks in sandals, baggy short-pants, and Robert Johnson T-Shirts. I imagine being berated with shouts of "you ain't on Beale St. now" isn't the worst of it.
Church St.
Every town in The South, of any size, has a Church St. In Jackson it's Farish St...Memphis has Beale St. The old Black business district. Not just Jukes but, grocery stores, taylors, cobblers, ice cream shops, they had everything. What Church St. had that none of the others did was B.B. King.
I love B.B. King...who doesn't. It's not my favorite brand of Blues (though he's certainly my favorite Urban players and his voice...geeeeze.) but, it's the first I heard and knew. As a little kid I appropriated my Daddy's cassette of 16 Greatest Hits and carried it around in an old tape recorder...even to bed at night.
Anyway that's Idianola. So is this...
Before I let you go. We need to slip back to Leland. I mentioned that there were a few players from around there...and indeed there are and indeed they deserve mentioning.
Son Thomas...not only a Blues player but a renowned artist. They call him a "folk" artist but that's always seemed condescending to me.
You gonna tell me this fella was just ignorantly making sculptures without any sophisticated understanding of what he was doing...bah.
What about Johnny Winters?
Man...Kiss My Grits..that is good.
I too would have loved to know what you might have ended up 'transporting' to Jackson. But I think you did the right thing in just living with the curiosity....
ReplyDeleteMore great photos. You have a book in you.
Thank you. That would be fun...especially if it were to casually write itself here without me having to do any actual work :).
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think I'd rather roof in the nude than write on a deadline.
One night me and a friend of mine (Tom...more on Tom later) stopped at a curb store to buy cigarettes before heading on to his house. We passed two fellas holding up a wall...they were still there when we came back but, as soon as Tom unlocked the car they hoped in the back seat. The dome light revealed two expressionless faces and lots of tear drop tattoos.
From that position of strength they began to "negotiate" for a ride to a friends house. We didn't really have a choice but to ask them for directions...fortunately we delivered them without incident and Tom's sister never found out.
If she had it would certainly have been my fault...it always was.
Anyway, one of the things I love about my job is going to these places...going into the back of these places with the owners. It reminds of the stories of my Daddy tells about his first years in the insurance business. He worked for a company that serviced rural accounts...selling what amounted to burial policies so people wouldn't have to pass the hat. He spent his days and nights in jukes and fish houses...with moonshiners and people that ran numbers.
I love it and I love Mississippi. I'm just glad somebody else finds it interesting too.