The next day I continued south on Highway 61 (the blues highway) passing through Cleveland, Mississippi, where I nearly ran over a pedestrian to get to a Shipley Donuts. Don’t get me started on the Shipley’s vs. Krispy Kreme argument, Shipley’s wins, period. Then it was on to Leland, Mississippi (home of Jim Henson) where I met my Aunt Frances and her friend Jamie Tate at Flavors for a meat and three. We went to the Leland Blues Museum where I met Billy Johnson who I believe runs the place and who writes the occasional article for the local paper.

The next day it was back to Highway 49, going north to Ruleville, Mississippi where I hooked up with famous musician and all around good guy, Duff Dorrough (of Tangents and Taylor Grocery Band fame). Duff, who grew up in that neck of the woods, took me out on a search to find Fitzhugh, Mississippi. It’s on the map between Ruleville and Parchman Farm. We got to the penitentiary without seeing any sign of Fitzhugh. So we stopped at a little store and asked the woman behind the counter. She just shook her head, no idea, never heard of it. Duff saw an older man sitting at a table in the store, reading a paper, like it was his own kitchen. (Imagine that at your local 7-11.) After playing the usual game of ‘who’s your daddy’ it turned out Duff and this man had people in common. He wasn’t sure where Fitzhugh was but thought it might’ve been between where we were and Drew, Mississippi (home of Archie Manning, father of Eli and Peyton). Another older man came in the store, a black guy who turned out to be a pal of the white guy. Both had been guards at Parchman for twenty years before retiring. They bragged about having been the first black-white guard tandem at Parchman. The second man and the first man chewed on the whereabouts of Fitzhugh for a while before declaring it was the wide spot in the road just south of here (near some rusty old farm equipment and a building). Duff asked if they meant the place where they used to have the cockfights and they all agreed that was it. There was no there there now.


Duff showed me around Sunflower and LeFlore counties and told me where I might go to find some of the few remaining juke joints. Duff provided some keen insights into the region and gave me some great research material that will find their way into the book. Over the next day or two I found some of those juke joints.


They look pretty sad during the day, but at night. . .