Black & Blue means SOUL!!!

Memphis. One of the holiest cities of ancient Egypt. Center of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms. Capital City of the joined pair.

Memphis. Lots and lots of southern gospel churches and music.  Center of war, plague, cotton, poverty and Fed Ex.  Capital City of the Mississippi Blues. It was this one we began to explore today.

The only connection to the Egyptian City I know of is the late 20^th century attempt by local entrepreneurs to connect the two through the giant pyramid on the Mississippi.  Designed originally to be a sport venue arena, it is now being turned into a Bass Pro Shop.

The Memphis we saw was deeply mired in its own cycle of poverty (Shotgun houses rotting by the dozens or more) and striving forward anyway to beat the tumbling economy the city is caught up in (South Main, Union Street, Beale Street and Mud Island all rough around the edges but vibrant nonetheless) . But the people of Memphis have seen hard, hard times before.

We began the day at one of the hardest, emotionally.  The Lorraine Hotel, where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed on a sunny April 4^th, 1968. The hotel / motel has been preserved by a group of black businessmen and women and a modern museum and learning center has been attached and now uses other buildings in the area.

  

Not all have been happy with what’s been done with the site.  Jacquelyn was evicted from her room at the motel when it was turned into a shrine and ever since has protested (over 26 years!) by living on the street, legally, just across from the entrance to the museum. Is she right?  Go to her website and decide for yourself.

The buildings around the hotel have also been preserved, including the shooter’s. And just who was the shooter?  Mrs. King came to believe it was not the man, James Earl Ray, who went to prison for it and died there.  Was it J. Edgar Hoover’s hit squad?  Was it rivals in the black leadership? Conspiracy theories abound.

The motel sits one block off of South Main Street, which used to be a major shopping district but fell on hard times till the Civil Rights Museum opened.  Now it’s experiencing resurgence and shops, stores, and Memphis BBQ houses of many styles open their doors.

The old Central Railroad Station even has a bit of a new life.  Only Amtrak stops several times a day to pick up passengers but the old main waiting room is public space in which I found a church this morning. Now that’s a 

                                           great way to use unused 

                                           buildings!

And there is a growing railroad museum on the Main Street first floor that bears some attention by anyone, like me, who loves the sound, imagined or otherwise, of an old steam whistle.  That may be why I like the air horn so much on FROG. But I can’t make her moan the way an engineer on a pufferbelly could.

A short drive down to the bluff overlooking the Mississippi on Front Street and we were at Confederate Park.  A place dedicated and constructed solely to honor those of Memphis who died fighting the Union in 1861-65.  It was here on these banks that the citizens of Memphis watched in despair as their small fleet of gunboats was destroyed by the much larger Union fleet in 1862, preparing the way for the taking of Vicksburg, to the south,  one year later. Thus the Confederacy was split in two and along with Gettysburg, tolled the death knell of the Rebellion.

It is interesting to read a Civil War memorial written by the opposition to the Federal Government, even decades after the conclusion of the war.

There are four cannon on the bluff now.  Three bronze smoothbore Napoleons and one rifled Parrot Gun.  The Napoleons have no markings but the date 1861 on the trunnion. 

The Parrot is clearly marked at the bore as 1861 and with a maker’s number.  It also has its makers name deeply stamped into one of its trunnions: Phoenix Iron.  Yes, this gun was made at the beginning of the Civil War by the factory so well known to Southeastern Pennsylvanians, Phoenix Iron Works. And now she helps us remember those who fought, and died, against her.

Along Front Street can also be seen the high tower of City Hall, and the old Cotton Exchange, for decades the largest spot cotton market in the world.  Steam boats and dredges, barges and huge barge tug boats are visible on the water, and Mud Island attracts crowds on pleasant days, but we couldn’t fit that visit in today. Evening was approaching.  And what do you do when visiting Memphis before 11 am or 5 pm?  You head to the Peabody Hotel to watch the duck parade!

The story is longer than I have to type so Google PEABODY HOTEL, Memphis, TN, and you’ll get it all. This grand old 19^th century hotel is home to one of now only two duck parades they know of in the world (the third was the Peabody in Little Rock, Arkansas, which was taken over by Marriott a couple of years ago- so no more ducks). 

Come early and you’ll get one heck of a free show. A Royal Duck Master, John Philip Sousa marches,  and all.

 

Several hundred people gathered for two hours throughout the ornate lobby and mezzanine awaiting the 5 pm ceremony. 45 or so of them Brits and Aussies on a Blues Tour of Middle America and staying at the Peabody.  The announcement of the march of the ducks took longer than the ducks took to go from their fountain pond in the center lobby, to the elevator, and up to the rooftop palace.

But the length of the march was not important.  We learned to revere duck in ways I never thought of before.  For one thing, its never served in a Peabody Hotel!  Dare I ever eat it again?  Probably.

Now evening really was coming on and the ducks had been properly put to bed so what does one do of a darkening evening in downtown Memphis?  

How about walk two blocks south from the Peabody Hotel to Beale Street, where the Memphis Blues plays in all its forms from the open doors of juke joints and honky tonks to several open air venues including the famous W C Handy Park where we saw and loved the ‘Memphis Expression’ perform for hours for changing crowds of hundreds.

  

The street reminded us of South Street in Philadelphia with its signage, merchandise and restaurants but where South Street is eclectic and sometimes just weird Beale Street is ALL about the Blues and its cousin, Southern Rock and Roll. BB King, Jerry Lee Lewis, W C Handy, and of course the King, and countless more are all honored and played here, as well as new artists in Blues. 

Big bands to three piece sets this street had more musicians than I’ve ever seen professionally performing at the very same time in three blocks of road anywhere.  And I include all the marching bands we’ve ever seen. And we saw no cover charges anywhere. Only tips asked for the musicians and fairly priced beverages or food purchased at any inside venue.  What an evening!

As usual, look for some photo albums of our days highlights on Facebook. And keep the lady we met at the Lorraine Hotel in prayer.  Scripture tells us it does no good to live on anger, and while her cause just may be just, she’s been consumed with her passion to apparently no avail for over 26 years.  God bless you Jacquelyn, and may you find peace in your soul.

-Ken