Travel is often sought as a delightful interlude, a ‘palate cleanser’ if you will, to refresh the senses between life’s more demanding chapters. After the rigorous climb of Aconcagua and anticipating adventures in Greenland and Morocco, a trip to Mississippi seemed like the perfect soothing balm. However, the Magnolia State held a depth of experience far beyond mere refreshment, stirring emotions in ways as profound as the Andean heights.
My prior visit to Clarksdale, Mississippi, while researching the birthplace of blues music, had already sparked an affection for the region. Returning this spring, I embarked on a journey down the Mississippi Blues Trail, starting in Tunica. The Gateway to the Blues Visitor Center and Museum offered a rich introduction, and The Hollywood Cafe, celebrated in Mark Cohn’s “Walking in Memphis,” resonated deeply with my musical inclinations. This initial immersion was a thrill for the music enthusiast in me, yet it was Clarksdale that once again captured my soul, with an unexpected and irresistible pull.
My first stop in Clarksdale was the Ground Zero Blues Club, co-owned by Morgan Freeman. There, Anthony “Big A” Sherrod’s performance was captivating. I’d witnessed his mesmerizing guitar skills before, the raw, poignant notes weaving tales of sorrow and resilience. But it was at Red’s Lounge, the last authentic juke joint in Mississippi, where I felt history unfolding and the future igniting simultaneously. The experience was so powerful, it brought tears to my eyes.
Teenage guitar prodigy Christone “Kingfish” Ingram was giving a surprise performance at Red’s that night. Red, and indeed anyone who has heard Kingfish play, will tell you he is the heir to B.B. King’s throne. His talent is undeniable, earning him performances for the Obamas and eliciting goosebumps with every note, a clear sign of witnessing true genius.
The most impactful moment of the evening, perhaps of the entire trip, was a conversation with Kingfish’s mother, Princess, after the show. We connected instantly. She shared the incredible journey of her son’s talent and dedication. “When Kingfish was young, we had to live in our car, and now he’s playing at the White House,” she recounted. “And you know, he has Asperger’s syndrome. He’s proof that dreams really can come true. Anyone can.”
Princess’s words and the story of her remarkable son stayed with me as I continued down the Blues Trail. The journey deepened my emotions in unforeseen ways. At the GRAMMY Museum Mississippi in Cleveland, Mississippi, Muddy Waters’ great-granddaughter, NaCherrie Cooper, shared intimate stories of growing up with the blues legend. In Greenwood, I visited the poignant gravesite of Robert Johnson, the father of the blues, whose life ended tragically, rumored by poison. Later, in Indianola, I stood in solemn reflection at B.B. King’s gravesite, located on the grounds of his dedicated museum, overcome with emotion.
Walking in the footsteps of these monumental musical figures, learning about their triumphant lives and their heartbreaking struggles, resonated deeply. As I consider my next grand adventure – perhaps a return to Argentina? – Princess’s inspiring words echo: “Dreams really can come true. Anyone can.” This journey through Mississippi, immersed in the heart of the blues, was more than a palate cleanser; it was a profound exploration of the human spirit, its resilience, and its capacity to transform pain into something beautiful and enduring. I guess that’s why they call it the blues.
For more information about the Mississippi Blues Trail, visit msbluestrail.org.
Explore more of Jill Gleeson’s adventures on her blog at gleesonreboots.com and her column at womansday.com.
