Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Sonny Boy Williamson II

"You name it whatcha wanna
You name it your mammy, if you wanna"

"King of the Harmonica" . . . Alex "Rice" Miller . . . Sonny Boy Williamson II

He was the quintessential bluesman, in that so much about him is caught up in myth, conflicting information and dates, etc., much of it just outright lies/claims by Sonny Boy himself. For instance, the name Sonny Boy Williamson . . . that "II" is on there for a reason. Even though Rice Miller claimed to be the "real" Sonny Boy Williamson, another bluesman by that same name had been playing since the early 1930's, and was murdered in 1947. The shame is that because his name was appropriated by Rice Miller, John Lee " Sonny Boy" Williamson I has become somewhat forgotten . . . even though you are familiar with some of his songs . . . "Good Morning, School Girl."

Rice Miller was born in Glendora, MS . . . a sleepy little town that harbors a very dark and depressing past (we will touch upon this in a future blog entry).

Some of Glendora's dark past relates directly to Rice Miller for he was "born on a plantation owned by Selwyn Jones, who was called to task by Mississippi Governor Earl Brewer for mistreatment of African Americans in 1915; in earlier years at least a dozen lynchings had been reported in Tallahatchie County, including several in Glendora."

Finally a museum that was open and allowed photography . . . The Delta Cultural Center in Helena, Arkansas. If we were able to stay a few more hours we could have taken part in a live radio broadcast by the KFFA studio, which is now located in the museum.

Little Jailhouse Gumbo and the famous the King Biscuit Time drums. The King Biscuit Time radio program is the longest running radio program going, and it is where Rice Miller became Sonny Boy Williamson. The sponsor of the radio program, the Interstate Grocery Company, began to bill Rice Miller as Sonny Boy Williamson to capitalize on the popularity of the original (who rarely came south). After John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson died, Rice Miller started billing himself as the "original" Sonny Boy!

What remains of the rooming house where Sonny Boy Williamson died in Helena, Arkansas.

Capitalizing on the success of the radio program, the Interstate Grocery Company put out Sonny Boy Corn Meal. This old trailer is parked across the street from where the original building for the company once stood. Apparently, it had been donated to the Delta Cultural Center, but was in such bad shape (like much of Helena) that it had to be demolished.

Part of the logo for Sonny Boy Corn Meal . . . Little Jailhouse Gumbo got a t-shirt with this image on it.

"The weirdest music I had ever heard" . . . W. C. Handy

It was here in Tutwiler, MS, that Handy first encountered the blues (while waiting for a train). Credited by many as "the Father of the Blues," he was more of a popularizer of the musical form.

Above . . . One of many murals in Tutwiler. This one depicts Sonny Boy who is buried not far outta town. While in town, our touristy actions garnered the attention of a fairly inebriated local who engaged me in conversation (after the requisite bumming of money) about how "everyone in these parts has a nickname." There was one called 'Red', and one called this and that (I can't remember the whole list, for it went on for awhile), and "one called 'Fly', because they say he favors a fly!" So, in my mind this begs the question . . . "well, what is your nickname?" And he replies without the slightest hint of irony, "I don't have a nickname."

If you need a harmonica, I know where you can find one, or two, or . . .

Buried near two sisters (who tragically died in a house fire at the ages of 89 and 95), Sonny Boy's grave remained unmarked for 12 years before this monument was placed by the owner of Trumpet Records.

Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Muddy Waters

While Muddy Waters claimed Rolling Fork as his birthplace, he was actually born in nearby Jug's Corner . . . which isn't on any map we had. Besides it was getting late and we still had a drive ahead of us, so Rolling Fork was good enough for us.

So, whilst we were being all touristy and such in the small downtown of Rolling Fork, a man approaches us and engages us in conversation (Screamin' Killer Davis . . . help me here. I can't remember his name). Of course, he knows we are there because of Muddy Waters. Well, after a few small pleasantries he offers that he is actually akin to Muddy Waters. He says he was Muddy Waters' great-nephew, or something to that effect. He said we had just missed seeing Muddy Waters' brother who was in town earlier that day. I asked him if he knew Muddy, and he assured me that he most certainly did.

So, I leave the conversation to Screamin' Killer Davis and Mr. Great-Nephew so I can take a few photos. And as I re-approach, Mr. Great-Nephew comes up to me and boldly states that this here fellow, meaning Screamin' Killer Davis, gave him $3.00 and that would buy him some fixin's, but he sure would like another $4.00 from me so he could get some fried chicken to go with it. I think he got $2.00 from me.

Hirsberg's in Friars Point . . . where Muddy Waters saw Robert Johnson play.

In 1941, musicologist Alan Lomax recorded Muddy at his cabin here at Stovall Farms, which is not far from Clarksdale, MS. Muddy stated, "when he played back the first song I sounded just like anybody's records. Man, you don't know how I felt that Saturday afternoon when I heard that voice and it was my own voice."

This is the site of the cabin Muddy Waters lived in as he grew up. The actual cabin, or what is left of it, is now in the Delta Blues Museum in Clarksdale. Unfortunately, the powers that be at the museum would not allow photography (The B.B. King Museum had the same blasted policy). So, I am not able to show you the cabin, the Three Forks sign, etc.

Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top visited the cabin while it was still in this location. Apparently the cabin had recently been damaged by a storm, so Gibbons "salvaged" a bit of the wood and had a guitar fashioned from it. The guitar was given the sobriquet Muddywood, and now resides in the Delta Blues Museum . . . of course I have no photos, but you can view it here.

Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Howlin' Wolf

"When I heard Howlin' Wolf, I said, 'This is for me. This is where the soul of man never dies.'" . . . Sam Phillips.

The only person ever to be named after the the 21st President Chester A. Arthur, Chester Arthur Burnett is better known today by the nickname his grandfather bestowed upon him . . . Howlin' Wolf. His boyhood home stood in the area of this road.

Downtown Whites (White Station), MS. Escaping a troubled youth, Wolf ran away from Whites at age 13 to eventually fall under the influence of Charley Patton and Sonny Boy Williamson II (who married his stepsister). Years later, after success in Chicago, Wolf would return to the area periodically to hunt and fish.

As a young boy, Wolf would sit and watch the Illinois Central trains pass by at night, inspiring one of my favorite songs. Howlin' Wolf related, "we used to sit out in the country and see the trains go by, watch the sparks come out of the smokestack. That was smokestack lightning."

The Howlin' Wolf monument in West Point, MS (which is just a few miles south of Whites). The Howlin' Wolf Memorial Blues Festival is held in West Point every year.

The Howlin' Wolf Blues Museum, our first museum visit . . . and our first closed museum. Travelling the Blues Trail through Mississippi, one learns very quickly that the times posted on the door, and/or the internet are not to be taken literally. I guess what I am telling you is . . . don't schedule your blues tour according to museum hours.

The Mississippi Blues Trail marker for Howlin' Wolf's great guitarist Hubert Sumlin in Greenwood, MS. Rolling Stone magazine places Sumlin as number sixty-five in their list of the 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time.

Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Charley Patton & Dockery Farms

Charley Patton . . . The Voice of the Delta. The spelling of his first name varies. I'll just stick with what is on the tombstone.

Little Jailhouse Gumbo took the above panoramic of the Holly Ridge Cemetery. Patton is thought to be buried on the left hand side and to the back of the cemetery near the gin. There is some speculation that he is actually buried under where the gin is now located. At any rate, the monument is somewhat in the area. Click on the photo to enlarge it.

Big Mama Merkin and Little Jailhouse Gumbo flank Mr. Patton and an empty bottle of Kentucky bourbon.

Lord, the revenue men is ridin', boy, you'd better look out
(Aw, sure, if it ain't Purvis!)
Lord, the revenue men is ridin', boy, you'd better look out
(Boy, if he hollers at you, you don't stop, boy)
If he hollers at you, don't stop, you will likely be knocked out

Screamin' Killer Davis contemplating his next bar-b-que . . . yes, it is true, he fell off the vegetable wagon on this trip.

Considered by those in the know to be the "Father of the Delta Blues," Charley Patton exerted an influence and a booming voice that far exceeded his slight frame of about 5'5" tall.

To get the ambiance of the area, watch our video with the sound turned all the way up (don't actually do this) . . . that should give you an idea how loud the gin actually is.

It was here at Dockery Farms that Charley Patton, under the tutelage of Henry Sloan, helped forge the sound that we now know as Delta Blues.

Maybe it wasn't the "Birthplace of the Blues" like the sign says, but Dockery Farms sure was a factory of great blues musicians. It was from this place that the influence of Charley Patton spread to the likes of Robert Johnson, Elmore James, Willie Brown, Tommy Johnson, Roebuck "Pop" Staples, Sonny Boy Williamson, and Howlin' Wolf.

It was on these steps of the Dockery commissary that the aforementioned blues who's who would sit and play for the residents of the plantation.

The efforts being made to restore many of the buildings are really paying off. It is nice to see that some of our history is being preserved.

The good and honorable Mr. W. Lester, executive director of the Dockery Farms Foundation, let our young Little Jailhouse Gumbo hold an actual Dockery Plantation token coin. He was also kind enough to give him a signed collage. You can view a copy of it here.

Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Robert Johnson, Part 2

Recalling the epics of old, modern-day argonauts Screamin' Killer Davis, Jailhouse Gumbo, and Big Mama Merkin cut a swath through the Mississippi Delta seeking out the mythological sites of the Gods. With hellhounds on their trail, they traversed the land from Nitta Yuma to Itta Bena, from Panther Burns to Tutwiler. They bridged the mighty Mississippi, Yazoo, and Tallahatchie rivers. They went to the crossroads, and they went to "where the Southern crosses the Yellow Dog." Lo, they ate sweet manna from heaven (deep fried tamales). However, the greatest of these endeavors was a pilgrimage to all three of Robert Johnson's gravesites.

The least likely to be the actual burial site of Robert Johnson is this one at Payne Chapel Missionary Baptist Church in Quito, MS. Apparently, the Atlanta-based band The Tombstones placed the marker at this site using unsubstantiated evidence . . . I assume this was a publicity stunt that had something to do with their name. At any rate, here we are.

A memorial obelisk at the Mount Zion Missionary Baptist Church, near Sheppardtown, donated by Columbia Records and the Mount Zion Memorial Fund contributes to the befuddlement of the actual gravesite location. Confusion pertaining to this site apparently arose because of the common place names of Three Forks Store and Mount Zion Church.

According to the Mount Zion Memorial Fund website, "At the request of church members, the song titles, several of which mention the devil, were positioned facing away from the church entrance."

The consensus now marks the cemetery at the Little Zion Missionary Baptist Church, just north of Greenwood, as Robert Johnson's final resting place . . . sort of. An eyewitness to the burial places the site near the base of an old pecan tree. So, Robert Johnson is probably somewhere nearby, but maybe not exactly where the monument was placed.

However, a good argument that they did indeed place the monument well is our photo of the ghost of Robert Johnson alighting atop the gravestone shortly after it had turned dark.

You may bury my body
Down by the highway side
(Spoken:) Baby, I don't care where you bury my body when I'm dead and gone
You may bury my body, woooo
Down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
Can get a Greyhound bus and ride

Delta Blues Odyssey . . . Robert Johnson, Part 1

Dudeboy and Robert Johnson share the same birthday . . . as does Gary Glitter!

According to the book Blues Traveling: The Holy Sites of the Delta Blues, Johnson's birthplace was near the intersection of I-55 and Highway 28 near Hazelhurst, with I-55 enveloping the front yard. However, I have read other sources that said the location was further south near Martinsville. Notā bene, Screamin' Killer Davis had strong opinions about many of the directions given in the book, stating "he couldn't find his own ass with both hands!" The actual home, or what is left of it, has been moved to a secret location and funds are being raised to restore it.

And I followed her to the station
with a suitcase in my hand
And I followed her to the station
with a suitcase in my hand
Well, it's hard to tell, it's hard to tell
when all your love's in vain
All my love's in vain

The Mississippi Blues Trail sign for Robert Johnson's early connections to Hazelhurst.

The Robert Johnson monument near the Copiah County Courthouse, where Johnson married Caletta Craft in May of 1931. Supposedly he played on the courthouse steps as well.

We arrived too late to tour the Robert Johnson Blues Museum in Crystal Springs. Actually, it probably didn't matter what time we arrived, for the hours posted at most of the blues museums are apparently not to be taken literally.

This is the original office building for the Abbay & Leatherman plantation, where Johnson spent his formative years. Returning to the area with a newly acquired prowess after a couple of years of absence led to some of the mythology surrounding Johnson.

According to the NPS website Trail of the Hellhound: Delta Blues in the Lower Mississippi Valley, "Muddy Waters said that the only time he actually saw Robert Johnson was on the front porch of Hirsberg's Drugstore (above) in Friars Point, Mississippi. A crowd of people had gathered around Johnson, who was playing ferociously. Waters became intimidated by the older man's musicianship and quickly left."

Somewhere near this site was the Three Forks juke joint. It was here that Johnson played his last engagement. Legend has it that he was poisoned by a jealous husband. Bluesman Johnny Shines related: "I heard that it was something to do with the Black Arts. Before he died, Robert was crawling along the ground on all fours; barking and snapping like a mad beast. That's what the poison done to him."

Greenwood's African American neighborhood of Baptist Town was a refuge for blues musicians. According to Honeyboy Edwards, after Johnson was poisoned at the Three Forks juke joint, he was moved to a home on Young Street in Baptist Town.

Johnson was removed from Baptist Town to this location just north of Greenville. It was here in a tenant house on the Star of the West Plantation where Johnson died on August 16, 1938.

I gotta keep movin
I gotta keep movin
Blues fallin down like hail
Blues fallin down like hail
Umm mmmm mmm mmmmmm
Blues fallin down like hail
Blues fallin down like hail
And the days keeps on worryin me
theres a hellhound on my trail
hellhound on my trail
hellhound on my trail

Take your pick . . . one of the many "possible" crossroads where Robert Johnson sold his soul to Old Scratch. This is the intersection of US 61 and US 49 in Clarksdale . . . it is the touristy photo op version of the crossroads.

Of course, Johnson never made a deal with the devil, but it still fun to explore the mythology. One version had Johnson leaving his guitar at a crossroads near the Dockery Plantation, which is the location shown in the photo above. It is as good as any, so if you happen to be about a half mile south of the main entrance to Dockery at just before midnight . . .

Early this mornin'
when you knocked upon my door
Early this mornin', ooh
when you knocked upon my door
And I said, "Hello, Satan,"
I believe it's time to go."

Hellhound On "Our" Trail . . . Our Delta Blues Odyssey

Over the next several weeks, check back with our blog for multiple entries pertaining to our Mississippi Delta adventure. Screamin' Killer Davis (Mr. Stone of Louisville, KY.) joined Jailhouse Gumbo (Dudeboy) and I, Big Mama (Merkin) on one the best roadtrips ever taken. By the way, these are our computer-generated names we got at the Delta Cultural Center in Helena, Arkansas, and they will remain our names for all of the entries dealing with our blues tour of the Mississippi Delta. If you'd like a blues name as well, this appears to be the site that they used to generate ours.

It was an action packed trip . . . as are most of our trips. We pushed the light every day. There will be entries on gravesites, museums, historic sites visited, and miscellaneous oddments. All in all, we saw the gravesites for 14 blues men and women, including all three of Robert Johnson's graves! We attempted to visit eleven different museums . . . eight of which pertained to the blues (4 of those were unfortunately closed). We saw homesites, birthsites, deathsites, historic sites, nature reclaimed homes, historical markers out the Yazoo, Civil War sites, various oddments, and many nice and fine people! This trip is a great argument for homeschooling, as Jailhouse Gumbo learned about the Delta, blues, Jim Crow, geography . . . things that need to be experienced to take hold. As Mr. Johnson exclaimed:

I got to keep movin', I've got to keep movin'

Blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' down like hail

Umm-mm-mm-mm, blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' down like hail

And the day keeps on worrin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail

Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail...