Remembering MLK

By Steve Beard and Troy Meier

Entry 3. Friday, October 15, 2004

Click on photos to enlarge

We found our way over to the National Civil Rights Museum and the site of the Lorraine Hotel in order to pay our respects to the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. It was on April 4, 1968, that Dr. King was assassinated on the balcony outside of Room 306.

Not long ago, I remember reading something from Coretta Scott King about her husband that stuck with me. Dr. King had been awoken in the middle of the night by a threatening and abusive phone call. After he hung up, he made some coffee and prayed: “Lord, I am taking a stand for what I believe is right. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I have nothing left. I have come to the point where I can’t face it alone.”

He later told his wife, “At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced Him before. It seemed as though I could hear a voice saying: ‘Stand up for righteousness; stand up for truth; and God will be at our side forever.’”

After our time at the Lorraine, we went to see what was happening on Beale Street. One of my favorite performers, 26-year-old Robert Randolph, was playing in the park. He grew up in the House of God in East Orange, New Jersey, where he learned to play pedal steel guitar. The “sacred steel” guitar become popular in black Pentecostal churches in the 1930s, an inexpensive substitute for the pipe organ. He was later turned on to the music of Stevie Ray Vaughan, the Texas blues legend who died in 1990. He began to incorporate the skills that he learned in church and the barrelhouse blues sounds that Vaughan perfected.

“When you go to church, one song is a hymn, very slow, very soulful, and the next song is as loud as it can be, and you rock out,” Randolph has said. “I try to use that same concept, of giving people that sense of refreshment, that positiveness.”

What a blast to hear one of the greatest sacred steel guitar players ever. He has taken the genre into realms that the forefathers never would have imagined.

Continuing down Beale Street, we checked out the phenomenal record collections at Memphis Music and much to our surprise we came face to face with legendary blues players Bobby Rush and Alvin Youngblood Hart. This was a huge unexpected blessing for Troy because he considers Hart (who must be 6'10") to be one of the most innovative and brilliant Delta blues guitarists. They autographed Bobby Rush’s new cd Folk Funk for us.

While were back in the lobby of the Peabody, Troy ran into Linda, the concierge at the hotel, and recognized her from Ellen's Soul Food. She told us that she had turkey necks for lunch (yeah, you read that correct). She likes Ellen's and had the line of the day: "I don't eat just anybody's chitlins, but I will eat her's." If that is not an endorsement, I don't know what is. I will take her word for it.

We hopped in the car in order to find the renowned Jim Neely's Interstate BBQ--home of the wet ribs slathered in delicious sauce. This became akin to the Search for the Holy Grail. We got lost big time. Nevertheless, we found it and sucked down the pork ribs and cole slaw and BBQ beans. Great stuff! This place is legendary and the rival of Rendezvous. If you want to really try something terriffic, you have to order the BBQ spaghetti. As they say in church, “Somebody, shout ‘Glory!’”

Stuffed like Thanksgiving turkeys, we returned to Beale and checked out the action at B.B. King's and the Blues Hall where we found the Ms. Zeno, the Louisiana Mojo Queen who was singing with Larry Lewis' Blues Mojo Show. What a blast! Troy met her and nabbed a picture. We caught the last set of James Govan and the Boogie Blues Band at Rum Boogie’s.

We got back to the room at 2:30 a.m. I am dead tired and still sick. My ear hurts and I am congested. Time to crash.

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