First, some corrections from my last post. We went to Monroeville, Alabama to check out the museum about Truman Capote and Harper Lee and we drove through Biloxi, Mississippi, not Brixton. Brixton is in England and would have made for an interesting road trip from the U.S. to be sure. This is why you should not do blog entries at 5am in the morning (which, incidentally, I am doing at this very moment).
If you have been keeping up with our journey via facebook
and twitter you will have seen the photo of the “new” Tallahatchie bridge
(build in the early 70s after the original collapsed) which gained fame for the
southern gothic song “Ode to Billy Joe”. We spend the better part of two hours
searching for this bridge and wandering through the back roads of Mississippi
in and around the small town of Money.
What happened next is one of the key reasons why Eric and I
do these road trips in the way that we do. A Jason Mraz concert gave us an
excuse to go to New Orleans. A road trip there and back provided us an
opportunity to explore the country. A song inspired us to explore a specific
area and then we stumbled upon history.
As we were tracing the Tallahatchie River we passed an
abandoned store with an historic plaque out front. We turned around and read
about the Bryant Grocery and Meat Market.
At this place in 1955 Emmet Till, a black 14 year old from
Chicago was visiting his family in Money, Mississippi. Knowing that race
relations were tense but not having experienced it to the same degree in the
north the young boy dared to say “Thanks, Baby.” To the wife of the store owner
on his way out. That night he was abducted from the home in which he was
staying brutally beaten, killed and his body was dumped in the Tallahatchie River
where it was found days later. There was no doubt who had done it and the
accused was found innocent within a few hours of deliberation. A member of the
jury said that it would have taken less time but they members of the jury had
stopped to have some soda. A few years, within the safety of double jeopardy
laws in the U.S., the accused would openly admitted to having killed the young
boy.
Emmett’s mother insisted on two things: that her son’s body
be returned to her in Chicago and that he have an open casket at his funeral so
that all can see the results of racial violence. The pictures disgusted and
angered the nation and the case became another flashpoint of the Civil Rights
Movement.
Today, however, it is almost forgotten. But if you go to
Money, Mississippi you will find plaques marking where the story begins and
where Emmett’s body was found. The County of Tallatchie issued a formal apology
to the Till family in 2007.
It was sobering, sitting in the car as the cicadas buzzed
about us and looking at this unassuming abandoned building that had witnessed
the start of such violence and upheaval. We drove away feeling as if we had
experienced an accidental pilgrimage of sorts. We had made a last minute
decision to go to the Rosa Parks Museum and had visited many sites by this time
with racism and the Civil Rights Movement as a backdrop.
Then we headed off to Memphis and the National Civil Rights
Museum.
Built around the Lorraine Motel in which Martin Luther King
Jr. had been assassinated, this museum traces the experience of the black
community in the United States from slavery up until the assassination. Rosa Parks,
Emmett Till, the March on Washington, the March from Selma to Montgomery and
other people and events were all there. Every story you have ever heard about
this movement, and many others you haven’t, are clearly articulated here. It
begins with a 30 minute video about the last weeks up to the assassination that
I found to be incredibly powerful. So much so that I bought a copy that I will
make available for Glebe Collegiate when I return this fall. Afterwards, you
follow the path through all of the different narratives as you make your way to
the final portion of the museum. The preserved motel room of Martin Luther
King, Jr. and a window that allowed you to look out onto the spot where he was
assassinated. Having seen the photos of that day throughout my life, I was
unprepared for the power of being present in this spot. They have replace the
pavement slab in which his blood had stained so it was not gruesome, but it was
as if time had stood still in this place.
Afterwards, we went across the street to where they had
preserved portions of James Earl Ray’s apartment and outlined the bringing of
justice to the assassin. The rifle is there as are the binoculars and other
important pieces of evidence.
Upon our arrival in Memphis we were startled by the question
that the desk clerk asked of us. “Are y’all here for Elvis Week?”
Elvis Week?
Eric and I had managed to book trip to Memphis at the 35th
Anniversary of the death of Elvis without knowing it. Do your research, ladies
and gentlemen! We went to Graceland as early as possible on Monday morning in
order to avoid most of the crowds. And we did.
I have to say that the audio tour to Graceland is probably
the best I have ever experienced. There is the typical neutral narrator voice,
but it is interspersed with archival recordings, Elvis’ and Lisa Marie’s
recollections and feelings about the place and, of course, his music. For
instance, we hear a recording of Elvis and his parents singing around the piano
while visiting the living room. I admit I was a little sceptical when we drove
through the gates of Graceland with “Welcome To My World” playing in my ear,
but by the time I left the Meditation Garden in which Elvis is buried I found
myself moved by the experience. I saw
the room with the three televisions, the racquetball room and, of course, the
famous jungle room. It was all very impressive and pure 1970s. You are not
allowed upstairs. They say it is because it was private and they want to
respect that in Elvis’s memory, but I suspect it is because he apparently died
in the bathroom and they don’t want it to become a shrine.
Next we visited his two planes and the vast collections of
costumes, memorabilia and artefacts. It was definitely a full day at Graceland.
By the time we left, Elvis Week was in full swing and you couldn’t wave your
arm without hitting an impersonator.
Afterwards, we went to Sun Records where the incredibly
preserved recording studio is still in use. I stood where Elvis stood when he
first recorded his version of “That’s All Right and touched the microphone he
used.
I have never been an Elvis fan. As I indicated in an earlier
blog I am of the generation that remembers his death and the aftermath of Elvis
sightings and over use of impersonators. He became a bit of cartoon as I
entered into my teens. As I grew older I appreciated his talent, but not much
more. While I won’t be purchasing his entire library anytime soon I can safely
say that Eric and I have achieved a whole new level of respect for the man, his
talent and his achievements. Putting aside the excess and the seventies
costumes for Las Vegas, what Elvis did for music, the blending of country and gospel
and the defining of rock and roll is nothing short of genius.
He is also a tragic figure. It seems that by the end he was
a very lonely man trapped within the confines of his own successes and
failures.
After Memphis we made our way to Nashville. Our first night
was spent at the world famous Grand Ole Opry! After the prerequisite photo taken with a Minnie Pearl
impersonator we grabbed our seats and sat down for a show that was designed for
everyone. The Minnie Pearl lookalike warmed up the crowd and then we saw a
video of the history of the Opry. Then we had a line up that included 91 year
old Little Jimmy Dickens who has been with the show for 64 years. He was
hysterical, bringing a vaudeville act that has all but disappeared. Some gems
include: “My neck is really sore. I was putting toilet water in behind my ears
and then the toilet seat fell on me.” “Another reason why my neck is stiff is
because of the medication that doctors now give men my age. You gotta make sure
you swallow those blue pills fast!”
After the old country portion, the cheesy country portion
and the funny country portion came the new country portion. This was Eric
Church, who is apparently famous and a hit with the ladies despite being hidden
behind dark glasses and a cap. There was great deal of screaming, guitars, and
twang and then it was over.
While not a country fan, I had a great time. The Opry really
is a must-do in Memphis.
The next day we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame. This
is a great museum that covers the history of the genre from its origins in the
back roads and mountain tops of the south to the current day. Old video footage
from the 1920s was particularly cool. I realised that I actually like some of
the older stuff from Hank Williams to the late 1970s.
Country music ruled in my house. My father did not allow any
changes to the radio station so I had to wait until I had my own radio, and
Kamloops to have a rock radio station, for me to listen to what I thought I
should be hearing. I grew up with a steady diet of Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers,
Marty Robbins, Tammy Wynette and Loretta Lynn among others. When I got older I
rejected the music as part of the teen rebellion that we all go through. Later
on I would discover Patsy Cline and others and like them, but I never connected
with the “new country” that has since developed.
This became clear as we watched a video that outlined
country music’s development through media. After about forty-five minutes of
early Hank Williams and Carter Family, various variety shows and Hee Haw, Eric
and I both turned away as soon as Garth Brooks came in dancing.
That night we had dinner at the world-famous Blue Bird Cafe
where we saw Australia’s new hit maker O’Shea and a new duo called Troubled
Annie. It was very intimate. The
performers sat in a circle in among the tables. We sat maybe five feet away. I
kept making eye contact with the female member of O’Shea who later thanked Eric
and I for our high level of energy. Also in the audience was Conway Twitty’s
son who was called upon to tell a story or two.
We left Nashville the next day feeling we had taken full
advantage of our time there.
Yesterday we drove through the incredible sights of the Smoky
Mountains. This brought us briefly through Georgia and North Carolina and then
back into Tennessee. For a trip that was ostensibly a journey to New Orleans
and back, we have managed to spend the most time in Tennessee.
Last night we spent the night in Gatlinburg, which is a
touristy place to say the least. This “Gateway to the Smoky Mountains” consists
of Ripley’s Believe It Or Not attractions, funhouses, overpriced restaurants
and overpriced parking lots. It’s like Niagara Falls but with less culture!
Because nothing says welcome to the glory of mother earth quite like
overindulgence and high-priced amusements.
Today, we are off to Dollywood. We are going to pay an
amusement park entrance fee so we can visit the Dolly Parton museum and then
leave. If you are experiencing disbelief that Eric and I, two well educated
professional men, could make such a ridiculous decision, then may I take this
opportunity to remind you that we did the same thing last year at Universal
Studios. This time we won’t be going through our primary interest at breakneck
speed like last year!
After Dollywood it’s the beginning of the long journey home.
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