Blues, andallhehad todo inreturnwas
sellhissoul to thedevildownat the fabled
crossroadsofHighway61andHighway49.
Wearrive in themiddleof thesecond
day,poresopen, everysenseon“receive,”
desperate toabsorb theenchantmentof
theshabby,peeling town. In thecenter
is theoldGreyhoundbusstation,now
reclaimedas the tourismcenter, albeita
quarter inchbelow thesurface.Still the
busstationwaswhere itinerantmusicians
arrived, seeking theirpieceof themagic,
and fromwhere, after theywere touched,
theyheadednorth.
RadiostationWROXwas for52years
thehomeofEarly“SoulMan”Wright, the
firstblackdisc jockey in thestate.Every-
one fromMuddyWaters toElvisPresley
madethepilgrimage toWROX tositand
talkwith“SoulMan,”and insilence,you
canstillheartheechoesof those late-night
conversations, thehopesheldand the
secrets told.
Mostofthebuildingsstandempty,aban-
donedforyears,prettymuchuntouched
exceptbyweatherandtime.Dottedhere
andthereareplacesstill—oronceagain—
inbusiness.Butoccupiedornot, they look
alike.ThefrontporchofMorganFreeman’s
GroundZeroreachesout intothestreet
tograbpassers-byand invitethem into
standawhileand listentoKingfish.He’s
the15-year-oldbluesprodigyperforming
withan80-year-oldguitarplayerwho
remembersthenight in ’37whenaftera
caraccidentoutonthehighway, thegreat
BessieSmithdieddownthestreetatthe
RiversideHotel.Weacceptthe invitation
and listen,mesmerizedbythestory.
Wemakeourway intoRed’sBlues
Club, following thesoundof themusic
and thesmellof thebarbecue through
anoldoverheaddoorand intoaroom
packedwith locals.Findingaspot in the
crush isn’teasy.Travelersmayalwaysbe
welcome,but they’renevercoddled.
Themusicgoesonallnight in
Clarksdale.TheLuckyRiders lastuntil
exhaustionandsensoryoverload,finally
succumbing toroad-weariness in thewee
hoursofaMississippimorning.
YTHEDAWN’S EARLY LIGHT,
the town lookssleepy.Butwe
areenergized.Weare initiated.
We’veonly touched theTrian-
gleandwe’veonlyskimmed thesurface
of thebitwe’ve touched,buteven thathas
addedanew layer toour loveof themusic.
Weknowwhatspellsarecasthere, and
aswe turnandride towardNashville,we
knowwe’recaughtandwe’llbeback.The
LuckyRiderswill rideagain.
Insilence,youcanstillhear the
echoesof those late-nightconversations,
thehopesheldand thesecrets told.
80
DECEMBER2015
AMERICANWAY
PHOTO
YVE ASSAD
B
MikeWolfe (third from left) and theLucky
Riders stopping for breakfast atPuckett’s
Grocery&Restaurant on theirwayout of
Franklin,Tennessee
