The Crossroads

I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the Lord for mercy, "Save me if you please." 
--Eric Clapton Crossroads

A few years ago I read a book (hard to believe huh?) called Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell.  In it, she takes a trip where she visits all the spots surrounding the assassinations of our four American Presidents.  It was a funny and interesting book and I highly recommend it.  She's a great writer.  When I started planning this trip, I found a book called Led Zepplin Crashed Here which detailed out the locations of all sorts of interesting spots regarding musicians.  Since music is a major part of my life I decided I would so something similar to Sarah's vacation only hitting spots around musicians who's music was important to me.  I'm a big blues fan and what better place to be than Mississippi which is the birthplace of the Delta Blues and the resting place of the Grandfather of the blues Robert Johnson.  My first stops on this part of my trip were Moorhead and Clarksdale, Mississippi.

Legend has it that Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads in Mississippi in exchange for his musical talent.  There is some disagreement as to which crossroads it was.  One version has it in Moorhead where the Southern Line crosses the Yellow Dog line.



Moorhead, Mississippi: where the Southern Crosses the Dog

The second version is at what is now the intersection of Highway 61 and 49 just outside of Clarksdale, Mississippi. 

Intersection of Highway 61 and 49 in Clarksdale, Mississippi

 I went to both and spent some time sitting there, waiting for the Devil to show up.  You know, just to see what he'd offer me for my soul.  Nothing happened. Well, except at both spots people kept walking up to me and telling me what they'd really like and asking if I could make it happen, was their soul worth it?  I didn't get what was up with that.  Wait a minute.  WAAIIIIITTT! No! They did NOT think that!  No way!  Did they SEE what I was driving?  Does a 1996 Lexus ES300 four door sedan say I have what it takes to make your fantasies come true?  Of course I was in Mississippi and Rucio doesn't have a cracked windshield or dings in the fenders.  Maybe that's considered a step up there.....

On my way to Moorhead and Clarksdale, I stopped in Greenwood where Robert Johnson is buried at Little Zion.  Like everything surrounding Robert's death, there is some doubt that this is his actual burial place.  Could be here at Little Zion or it could be over at Mount Pryor.  However, the back of the headstone has a testimonial by a eye witness that this is the real deal so that's good enough for me! 

I'd like to thank Sheila at the Shell station on Carrolton in Greenwood who not only took the time to write down detailed directions to Little Zion Cemetary but gave me her cell phone number as well so I could call her if I got lost. Way cool.