Day 3, Church in Franklin Parish

Today started with an early knock on the door. It was a gentleman that live up the road. I haven't had phone service since I've been here and he had a message from the guy that owns the trailer. I was to meet him at a little bank in town and he and his friend were taking me to his friend's church in a little town called Franklin. Anthony, the trailer owner hadn't been to church in years and his friend was always trying to get him to go. He decided that today was a good day to go.
The church was in a poor part of town, surrounded by a beatup trailer park and run-down houses. We were a few minutes late and I could hear music coming through the little white church walls. We walked in and found a seat in the back row. There were about 25 people and every last one of them were very engaged in the praise and worship. There was a drumset in the corner and some amps, but they were singing to a CD. The music was being led by Pastor Sharon and she had an incredible voice. She sang with her whole body, hands lifted and waving, and eyes always looking up. Everyone was clapping, stomping and singing. The church's bishop was visiting so he delivered the message. He was a classic black preacher and gave a powerful message with lots of congregational call backs - Amen! Preach it brother! Tell us! and Halleluja!. The message was coincidentally (or maybe I just needed to hear it again) the same message I got at my own church before I left - God chooses very imperfect people to do great things - Moses, with all his "baggage" answered God's call and led a million people out of slavery! After church, I joined them for sandwiches, cake and lemonade in their fellowship hall. This was a warm group of people and all of them made me feel very welcome.

I met a fiddler that lives in Morgan City and set up to meet him in the afternoon to play some music. Unfortunately, it rained about 4 inches and I was afraid to try to drive in it. But before it started raining, I took my little pirogue (ok, kayak) around the edge of 4-mile bayou and got some photos of the smaller swamp scenes. I found a little spot that was full of frogs, lizards and dragonflies. The frogs were so thick, they were jumping on my legs. It was cool until I saw a little snake chasing one. After that, I didn't want any more frogs on my pants.

The rain killed my fiddle music venture, but it was a welcome change. It rained so hard on my tin roof that it rumbled inside. I fell asleep listening to it. I woke up in the evening and spent the rest of the time till dark sharing my guitar noise with the frogs and gators from my little wooden dock.

Tomorrow I check out and leave for my little tin shack in Breaux Bridge. It also has a dock on the bayou.

Lousiana Day 2 I saw something in the swamp that will haunt me

Im having some trouble getting photos uploaded using my new tablet and blog app. I have my own IT team, but she didn't want to come on this trip. I got to watch the sunrise in the swamp - it was beautiful. It was as loud as it was striking. Just before the sun comes up, every creature in the swamp starts to call or sing - birds, frogs, bees, crickets--even the fish chime in with a big splash every once in a while. The fish jump so often that I managed to catch a photo of one in mid air.
I drove into Pierre Part. This back-water area is now well known since Troy Landry hunts gators there on the TV show Swamp People. I had made arrangements to meet up with a guy from near Baton Rouge. I had never met him, but had gotten to know him via email and text. I had sent him a couple of Reborn guitars last year and kept in contact. For the past month, he had been texting me phone pics from the area, cafe menus, event flyers and other stuff to help me plan my trip. He offered to bring over his boat and drive me around the swamp. Of course I couldn't pass that up.
John showed up right on time with a boat, an ice chest full to the top and a beautiful wife. I figured out quickly that he and I had a lot in common, not the least being that when it comes to wives, we are both playing way out of our leagues :) But as it turned out, John didn't bring her along just for her looks. Susan proved to be a great deck hand and knowledgeable about most everything I wanted to ask about. After meeting these two folks, I was ready to move here - they both look about half their age. John told me Susan looked so young because he treated her so well, and that she never had to worry or want for anything. The reply look on Susan's face told me it might just be genetics.
Before we headed into the swamp, John and Susan treated me to lunch at Landry's Cafe. I had a mountain-sized plate of crawfish and an iced tea. We also had frog legs and fried gator. Wow what a meal.
After lunch we launched the boat and in short order we were deep in a bayou. The water was narrow, with moss-covered cypress trees thick on both sides. Everything was green and full of life. It was hot, but I could hardly sit my camera down long enough to get a drink. There was something flying, splashing, calling or wiggling almost constantly. I took about 300 pictures. We saw egrets, ibises and bald eagles, turtles and snakes. We saw lots of gators but they were pretty quick to slip under the surface. John did manage to slip us up close to a big one and I got some nice pictures. Later in the day we happened onto and epic bayou battle - a large water snake was locked in mortal combat with a fat catfish. We watched from just a few feet away as they twisted and splashed. The snake had a death grip and was determined that the fish was going to be dinner. They finally slipped deep into the vegetation.
Toward evening, we were deep in the back of a dead-end bayou and I saw something that will likely haunt me the rest of my life. This was the type of sickening site that you just cant shake. On the edge of the water was a large boat that someone had abandoned years ago. Most of it was sunk below the surface, but the bow still swayed above the water. On top of the weathered and moss covered bow, sat a complete drum set. Someone had thrown away a perfectly good drum kit and there was no way for me to salvage it! I'm sure I will have nightmares tonight. Ewww, I shiver just to write about it.

LOUISIANA BAYOU 2012 - Day 1

Rhonda dropped me off at the Sacramento airport at about 5:15 am and I arrived on Lafayette LA about 10 hrs later. Before I left, Rhonda bought me a lOUSIANA atlas. Rhonda likes maps - I like technology. I decided to leave the paper atlas at  home. I wouldn't need it, I've got a $400 phone witH GPS. I found out as soon as I got behind the wheel of the rental car that appearantly sattellites are harder to find  here. The best my phone could do was show me smack in the midd le of the state.

I stopped twice to buy a map. Neither place sold a map but both places gave directions for free. Unfortunatly, in Louisiana you get what you pay for. Neither set of directions helped me much, but with some luck, I stumbled onto Highway 90 east in less than 30 mins.

Once I found the 4-lane, It was a short 1-1/2 hr drive to Morgan City. I was met by my new friend Anthony who led me to his trailer on the Bayou. I was starving so he pointerd me toward a resteraunt about 6 miles away. The little bayou cafe was a nice place with local seafood and a patio right on the water. It was just getting dark as I sit there sipping some cold sweet tea.

The water below my feet rippled a little and I noticed about a dozen heads sticking out of the water. There were at least 20 turtles watching me from the edge of the water.  I think they are like bayou pigeons waiting for me to throw something to them. Since I'm not totally savy on the local games laws about feeding wildlife, I refrained from tossing in some of my meal. 

As I ate my stuffed crab and white beans, there was a big swirl and every turtle vanished.  Woo Hoo! My first gator! It was only about 18" long and was actually kind of cute......but it was a gator!

I stayed and watched the sunset and headed back to my trailer. I'm excited to see what I can find tomorrow. 

Day 10 - Coming home

Leaving Mississippi

I'm sitting in the Jackson/Evers airport. I'm excited to get home, but a little sad to leave. It has sure been a lot of fun and I've met so many great people. There was a big party at the Shacks last night and the musicians treated me like family.

I left out of my shack early and stopped by the radio station to tell "The Evangelist" I wasn't able to be there in the afternoon. He asked if we could have an interview right then and play some music from our Holy Road CD. I only had a few minutes, but it didn't matter, we couldn't find the CD. There is a zillion CDs in the little station and he was looking through stacks 3 feet high. He finally gave up and figured Mr. Poe must have taken it with him. We talked for a little while and he told me he would find the CD and would play it as soon as it showed up. I gave him a "Reborn Guitars" tee shirt. He's also a guitar player and he really liked it.

I was in a hurry so I could visit Miss Macy at the Jones Temple #1 Missionary Baptist Church on highway 146 south. I met here several days ago and she invited me to church with her. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay for the service because I had to be back at the airport, but I wanted to see the church and spend a little time there. I actually got there before anyone arrived so I went to a little county store for some coffee.

Doug on left and Tony on right

The door was open and a truck parked in front, so I walked in and said hello to a couple of guys near the counter watching some Nascar on a litle TV. As it turned out, the store hadn't been open in a few years, but Tony, the owner and Doug his old friend, hang out there and watch TV. I talked with them for a while and you could tell that even though they were seprated in age by about 30 years, they were very close friends. They laughed at all my crazy travel stories. Doug had a great old laugh with a big near-toothless grin while he did it. Tony ofered me $100 and a 1-way ticket to take Doug to California with me and leave him there. They got a big kick out of that.

Doug laughing at one of Tony's stories

While I was talking with these gentleman, I heard the saddest story that I had heard in the Delta. I mentioned that I had spent some time over in Money, Mississippi and had gone to church there. He asked me if it was the Riverside Church. I said yes and he told me that 8 years ago, his only daughter was leaving the Riverside church, and was killed about a mile out of town. It was on her 18th birthday. He asked if I had seen the roadside cross. I told him that I had seen it and passed by there several times. I didn't mention it, but I had wondered about it every time I passed by. He told me it was devastating to him and his wife, and that she has never really recovered. It just took the joy from her life and she is still grieving 8 years later. The store closed because his wife couldn't help him with it anymore and their daughter worked there on the busy weekends.

What a sad story. It's interesting that I met these folks 40 miles from where I saw the roadside memorial on the little windy road out in the nothing, and he put a story and face to my wondering about the little cross marker.

We shook hands as I left and as most everyone here has said, "Promise you'll come and see us when you come back"

I drove the half-mile to the Jones church. I couldn't stay long, but I met several nice people and got to take a few pictures of the little church. It was a pretty brick building, with a beautiful sanctuary. It was set up in a traditional Baptist arrangement, with pews, a large pulpit, some high-back chairs for the Pastor and maybe the first lady. There was a big choir area, with a piano and a drum set. Everyone was warm and friendly. It was nice to see folks dressed up in their best for church.

One of the last things I saw as I left the Delta was a sign I had seen all over the region. Of course I know what it means, but I never heard if there was some particular regional or temporal significance.

Good Bye Mississippi...

Day 9 Mississippi - Pretty Scenes from the Delta

Its Not the Heat, It's the Humidity
Today was officially hot - 105 F in the shade by 11:00 am and humidity like you were standing in a tiny bathroom with the hot shower running. I spent most of the hot part of the day in my shack, with the little window AC running and all the doors shut. This gave me a chance to sit down and scroll through the hundreds of photos that I have taken during my trip. This whole area is just beautiful. There are areas that are rural and vibrant green and other areas that are full of beautiful faded colors.  Everywhere I go I see something that begs for me to stop, pull over and get out the camera... even if it means getting back to the car, drenched in sweat.

I hope you enjoy the pictures. Please let me know your favorite.

Bottle tree - these are all over Mississippi

I see a lot of pretty brick and much of it is covered in vines. They tell me if you stand still long enough,
the ivy or honey-suckle will grow right over you

It was on blocks, but it sure was pretty

This is definitely the land of cotton

Young cotton rows

Cross on a pumphouse door

This was an old door on one of the shacks. I think this is my fav pic.

I leave for home tomorrow. I've sho' had a lot of fun, but I sho' am homesick!

Day 8 Mississippi, Rawge plays live at WAGB Radio, 860 on your AM dial

Momma Don't Allow No Saggin' Around Here
I had a great drive back towards Greenwood. I had lunch at Sanders Grocery in Minder City. The sign on the door said, "If Your Pants Aint Pulled All The Way Up, Don't Come In here".  I was hungry, so I pulled my pants way up, Steve Erckle style just in case, and went in. The place was ran by Miss Charletta and Miss Susan. I had a Hickory sausage sandwich, fried okra and sweet tea. I asked if I could get it to go. She said yes, but we'd be happier if you ate it "right here with us".  So I did and got to talk a while. These ladies reminded me that today was Jun 3, the day Billie Jo MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie bridge .
 

Ode To Billy Joe
I decided to drive down to the Tallahatchie bridge and have a look around, since it was June 3. I sat around in the sweltering heat, pondering the sad and mysterious lyrics of a southern Gothic tale about a young man's suicide at this very spot and on this very day, about 40 years ago.

It was the third of June,
another sleepy, dusty Delta day.
I was out choppin' cotton
and my brother was balin' hay.
And at dinner time we stopped,
and we walked back to the house to eat.
And mama hollered at the back door
"y'all remember to wipe your feet."
And then she said she got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge
Today Billy Joe MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge.

Papa said to mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas,
"Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense,
pass the biscuits, please."
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow."
Mama said it was shame about Billy Joe, anyhow.
Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,
And now Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge

And brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billy Joe
Put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show.
And wasn't I talkin' to him after church last Sunday night?
"I'll have another piece of apple pie, you know it don't seem right.
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge,
And now you tell me Billy Joe's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge."

Mama said to me "Child, what's happened to your appetite?
I've been cookin' all morning and you haven't touched a single bite.
That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today,
Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday. Oh, by the way,
He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge
And she and Billy Joe was throwing somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge."

A year has come 'n' gone since we heard the news 'bout Billy Joe.
Brother married Becky Thompson, they bought a store in Tupelo.
There was a virus going 'round, papa caught it and he died last spring,
And now mama doesn't seem to wanna do much of anything.
And me, I spend a lot of time pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge,
And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge.


Rawge Live at WABG radio!

On the way back to my shack,  I saw a car parked at the WABG radio station, so I went up to the door to see if I could have a look at the inside. It was tiny, and looks identical to the little station where the Soggy Bottom Boys got paid to sing into a can. I was greeted by Mr. Poe, the owner of the station. He invited me in and told me all about the station. As we talked, he would cut over and introduce the next record. He asked me if I would do a live interview about my trip through the Delta. Of course I jumped at the chance. He asked all about my trip, what I do for a living, what all I've seen, etc. Then it happened... he asked me to get my guitar and play a song. I tried to say no, that I was way too scared for something like that, but he insisted. Something kept flashing in the back of my head about you only live once. So, I went out and got the $50 piece of junk guitar I had bought a couple of days earlier and sat down. With no practice or warming up, I was playing and singing (actually murmering) "I'll Fly Away".  I can say with no hesitation, it was the worst that I have ever played or sang. I was so nervous my leg was bouncing and my throat felt like someone had a grip around it. But I muddled through it. We chatted a little more and finished up and he went started another record. Dang! I may be the only person in California that has played a gospel song live on WABG in Greenwood Mississippi. :) He is having an evengalist host on Sunday morning and Mr. Poe asked my to stop by and perhaps he can play some songs from our Holy Road CD. You can listen via the web at www.awsomeam.com

I'm going to try to make that happen if I can fit in in before or after church. I've been invited to attend church service at the Jones Temple Missionary Baptist church outside of Greenville. How could I pass that up?

"We Heard You On The Radio"

About an hour later, I was sitting in my shack, still a little shaky, when I got a knock on my door. Of course, I don't know anyone here, so it was a bit of a surprise. I answered the door and the guy standing there said, "Hey man, we heard you on the radio a wall-a-go. We got a bunch of guitar players over in the other shack, come on over and hang out with us." I went over and met about a half dozen musicians and we all had a pretty good laugh at my shaky live and impromptu performance

They're playing here for their 40 year class reunion. They had been playing together since the 1960's and had recorded a few albums. These guys had played with everyone you could think of, from Tom Petty to the Yardbirds. They had a room full of nice guitars. The leader of the group, Sid Herring, has a band called The Gants (http://www.thegants.com/1stpage.html). These are a cool bunch of guys and now every time I walk out side, Chad hollers, "Rawge! Come on over man!" I sat out all evening on their porch and listened to them talk about all their playing. Someone would say, "Hey remember that one song we played at so-and-so...." Then he'd grab a guitar and pound out a song.  They made a run into town and came back with a barrel full of genuine Mississippi Hot Tamales. We had a nice evening, playing music, eating Hot tamales, and talking about the south.