The Crossroads

The Crossroads of Highways 61 and 49

This is the crossroads of the blues. It's where folks migrating north to Chicago made their way from the lower delta of the Mississippi up Highway 61. Northwest on Rt. 49 from Jackson and points further south in Mississippi and Alabama. Chicago, Kansas City, Tulsa Okla - they were looking for work after the mechanization of the large farms and plantations. This is where highway 61 and Rt. 49 cross in Clarksdale Mississippi. But even before the great migration Clarksdale was the place the bluesmen stopped as they made their way around Mississippi playing the Juke Joints and Party Shacks  - at least thats the story. The most famous story though is the one about Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil at the Crossroads. But which Crossroads? The devil know there a LOT of crossroads in cotton growing areas of the delta. Where was Robert's?

Robert Johnson

We talked almost every night we were in Clarksdale with blues men of every description and just plain folks from the area trying to find where those crossroads might have been. Obviously not the tourist crossroads at highway 61 and 49. We heard a lot of stories and drove out to a lot of crossroads in the area. We were pointed to a very promising one by an 80+ year old blues guitarist who told us some little known stories that we found to be true by doing some research. He told us that people didn't really know that Robert had lived as a young man at Tunica Mississippi. The road that joined highway 61 out of Tunica was originally a 'Y' crossroads at a graveyard. Though that 'y' is no longer there - the graveyard is. He assured us that was where young Robert stopped and made his deal with the devil after deciding to leave Tunica and be a 'walkin' blues man. It sounded good and had cost me almost a full bottle of whiskey to get this story out of him so we headed out the next day to find this graveyard:

Graveyard North of Clarksdale on Highway 61

It was a cold,rainy, bone chilling morning all overcast and properly spooky but - it just didn't seem right. I took a few pictures and we left unconvinced that we had been to THE Crossroads.

That night, Sunday, our last in Clarksdale, we were in a local drunkards hangout talking about the films we had seen with a few of the people we had met at the festival. When I went up to the bar to buy a round a younger looking fellow we had seen around town all weekend playing guitar and singing on streetcorners for spare change slid onto a bar stool beside me. He's asked me not to use his real name so I will just call him Mr. "A". He was pretty tall, had a fedora on his head and an old suit like the Beatles wore on the Ed Sullivan show. He was pretty young looking but I couldn't really be sure of his age. Anyway he said he heard I was lookin' for the crossroad and for a glass of Irish Whiskey he would tell me the real story including how to find the crossroads. I figured 'what the hell' Ive tried everything else and ordered him a shot of Jameson's. He put his hand on arm and said,"A glass sport...". I got him his glass and Mr. "A" leaned over and told me this story about Robert Johnson:

Robert was born 100 years ago this May 8th in Hazelhurst Mississippi and there is going to be some serious partying around the Delta this year to commemorate his birthday. The story is ol' Robert was a harmonica player who wanted to play guitar....but he stunk up the place when he tried to play and after being laughed at by patrons of the Jukes and other musicians he went back to the Hazelhurst area to woodshed. There he hooked up with a guitar player from Beauregard named Ike Zimmerman.

Ike Zimmerman

Ike was known to play at night sitting on the grave stones in local cemeteries in the Beauregard area - just for the peace and quiet he'd say. According to relatives he had Robert join him in these cemeteries for his guitar lessons - might have been the first place the devil heard him play! (This is that cemetery:)

Beauregard Cemetery

After 7 months (or 2 years by other accounts) Robert headed back up the road towards Clarksdale to show off his new chops. Somewhere between Beauregard and Rosedale, around midnight (or at dusk by other accounts) he was walking down a dirt road and when he came to a crossroads a man came up off the road and offered to tune his guitar for him. The woodshedding with Ike had greatly improved his playing but after this man tuned his guitar Robert played like nobody else alive. But the devil got his due as Robert Johnson died young - poisoned by a jealous husband or girlfriend. He was the 1st member of the 27 club - famous musicians who have died at the age of 27. Jimi Hendix, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain to name just a few.

I told him that was a great story and I had heard most of it before and how the hell this story was gonna tell me where the crossroads were?  Mr. "A" told me to get a map of Mississippi that included all road county roads. I told him I already had one. He said, "Good - find Beauregard and draw a straight line between there and Rosedale. Count the crossroads along that line and the 27th crossroads will be the one you want. You'll know it when you get there cause you'll be going slightly up hill and it'll look like the electric lines are floating overhead just before you get to the crossroads" I told the bartender to pour him another glass of Jameson's and asked him to wait while I brought the Red-headed Irish Girl over to hear the story. When I got back he was gone - and so was the second glass of whiskey.

We headed to Beauregard the next day. I found the Beauregard Memorial Cemetery that Ike Zimmerman's sister said was one that Robert and Ike played in.

One of the head stones they could have played on.

For whatever reason this place resonated and gave us that chill that lets you know that you might be on to something. I got out my guitar and played "Good Mornin' Blues" just see if I could wake up a few spirits.

Me and the Spooks

When the dogs began to bark and the crows screamed in protest I went back to the car and got out the Miss. Map and started to count.....

After a few hours of driving through various back roads we came down a long dirt road to the 27th crossroads. Even though the day had been overcast and cloudy all along, just as we came up a slight hill to the crossroads some light came through the clouds and because we were lower than the road the electric wires seemed to hover above the crossroads completely suspended.

THE Crossroads

I got out my guitar and walked down the road and came back to the crossroads. It was dusk....the last hour before sunset on the night of the dark of the moon. I played a few chords and I just KNEW this was the same place Robert had met the man who tuned his guitar.

'Bad Boy' at the crossroads.

Now I'm not really superstitious but if a black cat had crossed our paths right then I would have jumped back in the car and headed right back to Blue Honey. Even still I was not inclined to hang around til midnight to see who might be lying in the middle of the road wanting to teach me a new tuning. Especially since it was going to be very dark with no moon and there wouldn't be much to see with my eyes. I was feelin' the voodoo though and wanted to take some kind of magic away from that place. So I buried 6 guitar picks along the crossroads at dusk on the dark of the moon in January 2011 and let them saturate all  that night - when it got so dark you couldn't see to walk across the parking lot of the motel to the ice machine.

Me burying 6 guitar picks at the Crossroads

The next morning I went back and dug them up. I had decided overnight to bury a 'lucky' 13 more - all from the Hard Rock Cafe in Biloxi (that's another story) to let 'em marinate in the Crossroads VooDoo for 3 full moons. I'm gonna pick them up in the spring....they outta be full of the Delta magic by then.

The spot where 13 Hard Rock Guitar picks are cookin' Blues VooDoo!

I really did bury those picks there and I really do believe I found the crossroads! If you want one of those picks email me with who you are and why you should have a 'voodoo' pick from THE Crossroads! Put crossroads in the subject line or my spam filter will trash your email.

joeflmr@yahoo.com

"I believe I'm sinkin' down"

The Fire & Mr. Johnson