Memphis
"Long distance information give me Memphis, Tennessee,
Help me find the person trying to get in touch with me.
She could not leave her number, but I know who placed the call.
'cause my uncle took the message and he wrote it on the wall."
Chuck Berry, "Memphis Tennessee"
The flight pulled up to the Delta terminal at exactly 1:38 p.m. local time.
A direct flight from Baltimore to Memphis is just about two hours. There was a time, before the changeover to daylight savings time was made a nationwide instead of a state option, when, if you flew on just the right day, you could arrive in Memphis a couple of minutes before leaving Baltimore, based on local times.
There are almost no direct flights to Memphis, leastways not from BWI. Everything is based on Atlanta as a hub. It is said that one could not even go to Hell from anywhere in the Southeast without changing planes in Atlanta. So it takes four hours instead of two. Add an hour or two on each end and you have spent at least a half day in the process. Nine hundred miles; you can drive it in 18 hours; less if you really work at it. But never mind that, Steve had not had much else to do.
Jim was waiting at the gate. "Good trip?"
"Thank God for the travelling sidewalks in Atlanta; walking gets more aggravating every day." he grumbled, "You OK?"
"Fine, looking forward to this."
"Katie doin' OK?"
"Fine, busy, new job and all. You?"
"Couldn't be better. Y' got wheels?"
"Yep, baggage?"
"This is it; let's roll."
"Truck's in the back lot; want me to fetch it and pick you up here?"
"Truck? No, I can still walk, just not as fast as I used to."
He led the way to an ageing Ford Ranger, faded blue, with the scars and scratches of at least ten years of service. Cap on the back, two wheel drive, trailer hitch, good tires, clean as a pin.
Steve smiled. "Ford hasn't made these for quite a while, right?"
"Yeah, but they made a bunch of the bigger 150's.'
Steve was laughing.
"What?"
"Katie drive this?"
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
"Just picturing a ballet dancer driving a pickup, that's all."
"She's a tough cookie."
"A lot like her grandmother."
--------------------------------
"Which way, Cap'n?" Jim asked."We're headed north out of the terminal, right?, towards downtown? Somewhere just ahead is Democrat Road, take a right, I want to see my old neighborhood. You had lunch?
"I know the road. What's your pleasure for lunch?"
"Used to be a string of barbecue stands in Memphis called "The Three Little Pigs' "they still around?"
Not just "stands" anymore. Full blown restaurant out east; not close to here, though."
"Anything that might have a good barbecue sandwich, otherwise it doesn't matter. 'can't get decent barbecue hardly anywhere around Baltimore. You wouldn't believe some of the crap they sell and call it barbecue. Only know of one place I'd even order it; place called Red, Hot and Blue, down near Annapolis. Franchise out of Memphis, I believe; takes its name from an old radio show, hot rock and roll DJ, Dewey Phillips. Ever hear of him? No?, I guess not, that was the Elvis era."
Jim stopped at a little diner, picked a couple of stools at the counter. Steve glanced at the menu; ordered a hamburger. Jim did likewise.
They waited for their food. Steve ventured: "Tell me about you, Jim, what brings you here?"
"Not much to tell. Born is a little town in the Missouri bootheel called Steele. Dad ran what was a reasonably successful insurance brokerage for State Farm; my mom was head of nursing at the Blytheville hospital. Dad flew for the navy in Afganistan, stayed in the Tennessee Air National Guard out of Memphis after it was over, then got himself killed by a drunk driver one Sunday morning out on I55. After Dad was gone, Mom took a job at St. Jude's in Memphis, I went to CBC,* joined the Army, went to OCS and spent a boring three years on the DMZ in Korea. Then Memphis U, and here I am.
"Sorry to hear about your Dad. Where's your Mom now? Still working? Any brothers or sisters?
"Thanks, Yeah, Mom's still at St Jude's. I try to stop by to see her on weekends. She and Katie are buddies. No siblings, just me, Mom says that was more than enough."
-------------------------------
"Where do we go from here?", Jim asked as the burgers arrived, obviously anxious to change the subject."We'll take a left on 78 and head for the interstate, cross the river and go north on 55; get away from the city. Democrat Road runs due East and West along what used to be the north border of the airport. There was a small Air Force base at the airport back then, used to go to the club there on occasion. At the corner of Democrat and US 78, there was a large trailer court. We bought a 28', 8 wide trailer and moved in there when I got out of the Army. Lived there until my government job took us out of town. From the Google maps it looks like nothing there but fast food and warehouses now. When you get to 78, just take your left and lets hit the road."
Back in the truck, Steve was peering intently at the landscape as it slid past, looking for some recognizable landmark and not finding any. Jim switched on the recorder on the seat between them. "So tell me about Memphis."
-------------------------------
Where to start?, he thought. had not rehearsed this at all. "At the beginning,", she said, from the back of his memory, "just do it!""Came to Memphis just out of high school, just turned 17, fresh off the farm, didn't know squat. Couple of town kids from my high school were also here at the "business college" to pick up some skills like bookkeeping, etc., that weren't in the curriculum back home. Those, plus a first cousin from Green County were the only people I knew in Memphis. School got me a part time job in a little drugstore soda fountain in the Methodist Hospital, I didn't know a soda glass from a sundae dish, but I learned. Net pay was $17.50 per week, ten of which went to the boarding house. Two meals a day, continental breakfast and a stingy dinner. a place to sleep and clean sheets every week. Not as bad as it sounds, you could get a swiss on rye with mustard and a pickle for about fifty cents, including a milkshake. Bus fare took a lot of change, and I learned to pace my spending. Lost fifty pounds that summer, and didn't even realize it. Later on I got a job parking cars in a downtown garage; made sixty cents an hour and, by working afternoons and weekends, I actually made more there. 'Can you drive a car with the shifter on the steering column?' 'sure, no problem.' (I had never even seen one, let alone driven it.)"
"That was the winter I fell in love. The summer slid into Fall, and then Winter. A complete surprise; complete unsolicited and unexpected, a letter from a girl back home; said she would like to see me next time I was home; signed it "Love', and signed her name. I was amazed, couldn't believe it; a real girl, cute, too, as I recalled, and she used that four letter word; couldn't remember if I had ever seen that word used in conjunction with my name. So far, most of the girls that I had known so far had either laughed at me or sort of ran away. This was new; this was unbelievable! This was great!"
"I did get home a couple of times that winter, double dated, became even more smitten. Spring came and my father, who had somehow injured himself, asked me to help him with that year's crop planting and cultivating; I became a farmer. He did the thinking; I drove the tractor and did what he told me. Saturday nights were for going to movies, etc.
Then suddenly, the world shattered. The warm friendly young lady wanted nothing more to do with me, and went back to hiding in her group of friends. Crops were laid by and by the 4th of July, I was ready to get back to Memphis."
----------------------------------
"Back to the boarding house, this time sharing a room with one of the town boys who was still there. He worked at a huge bakery downtown and helped me get a job there. Baker's helper, (loading trucks) $1.05 per hour, six day week, guaranteed six hours per day (night), time and a half for all over forty hours per week or over eight hours a day. Not bad, net pay somewhere around $42.50 per week, plus overtime.""My roommate got a surprise one Saturday morning. He was not so gently awakened by his mother, his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's mother. 'Wake up, boy we're about to take a little trip!' I learned later that the 'little trip' was down to Hernando, Mississippi, a county seat, just across the Tennessee-Mississippi line, where he was to be married. (no waiting, open six days a week). He didn't talk about it until quite a while later. He went back home, worked in his father's company, had several more offspring and lived happily there the rest of his days, He died a few years ago, still married to the same girl."
Back in Memphis, I met a Mississippi girl at school who was living at the girls' boarding house next door, bought a car, and was married by the next spring. All sorts of things happened to us, sickness, etc. and inside of two years, I was in the Army. (see "Steven's Run")."
"Back from Germany and back to the bakery and a little over four years at Memphis State, I had my degree, another child and an offer of a job with Uncle Sam. Graduating at mid term is not the best time to land a teaching job so I took what was offered; and have never regretted it. Three months of training and a transfer to Dyersburg came next. The next two years in a government field office was to change my life.".
"Sorry to ramble on so, Jim, I think I'm 'way off your subject."
"No, it's OK, good background material. Interesting."
"We'll get to the farm, trust me. Where are we?"
"West Memphis."
----------------------------------
"Used to be quite a town. You see, Memphis was dry. You could not buy a drink anywhere legally. This, of course, spawned all sorts of 'private' clubs; membership fees were low, but everything else was a bit pricey. Legitimate restaurants would make you a drink, provided you brought your own bottle. Regular customers just left their bottle on the shelf, or so it was said. West Memphis, on the other hand, had no such silly restrictions. Memphis also had what they called the 'Blue Laws' which, among other things, prohibited the sale of unprepared food on Sunday. So, by some freak of twisted logic, one could buy beer (after lunch) on Sunday in Memphis, but you could not buy bacon. Outside the city line the Sunday morning prohibition on beer sales did not apply."West Memphis had bars, dance halls and other establishments to provide entertainment for the sailors out on pass from the Millington Air Station up north of town and for college students from the city. Half a dozen or so on us students, trying to get home from a show in West Memphis one Saturday night, were waiting for a) food from the bus station coffee shop, and b) the last bus to Memphis. We were obviously persona non grata and the food was forever in arriving. The bus, however, was quite prompt. It was about to leave and our food was nowhere in sight. We made a run for it, but one of our guys was not quick enough and got caught. You would have thought we had robbed a bank, or something. He had to pay for it all. We managed to hold the bus and paid our share later, but I don't recall ever going to a Saturday night show in West Memphis again."
"Did go there to the Cotton Club a few times after I was married. A couple of friends played in the band. Went to the bathroom; came back and found a sailor sitting in my chair attempting conversation with the somewhat concerned young lady. With the courage of two or three beers, I boldly tapped him on the shoulder and said firmly, 'Excuse me, but I believe you are in my seat.' He stood up; then he stood up some more. He stood up to about six foot two. A wave of sobriety and good sense swept over me. I smiled sweetly, said 'thank you very much' and sat down. Didn't dare look at him again."
"Another pair of co-workers of mine, faced off with some sailors one evening. John was a dapper dude with his hair slicked back in a DA who came from the same North Memphis neighborhood that produced Elvis."
"DA?"
"Duck's posterior."
"There was North Memphis and South Memphis; both were poor neighborhoods; only the complexion of the residents was different. Bill was a tall rangy country boy from the East Tennessee hills. As the conversation intensified, it boiled down to a face off between Bill and a rather large boy in a white uniform. John was watching from the perimeter, and after one comment by the sailor, John says quietly, 'You don't have to take that shit, Bill, hit 'im, I'm with you.'
Well, Bill did just that, John struck one blow and stepped aside. A brawl ensued. Bouncers responded, and as Bill was dragged out the door, he observed John standing to one side; calmly combing his hair."
"Must have been quite a place."
"Oh, it was. Most of the people that I knew in Memphis were from either Arkansas or Mississippi; farm kids leaving the farm, being replaced by machinery. Some from Tennessee farm country; no natives."
-----------------------------
"Just west of here is a little town called Wilson, Arkansas. Part of the famous Wilson Plantation. Prime, black dirt farm land, as good as it gets. Everything in town was Wilson. Wilson Grocery, Wilson Ford Dealer, Wilson Cotton Gin, you get the idea. A few years back, at my 60th high school reunion, had a chance to spend some time with guy who was a good friend in high school. Knew he had done well and owned a lot of property, including several banks scattered around the area. With a short Google search, I learned that he was among the top 100 land owners in the entire country, and that he and his son had been involved in some multi-million dollar deals in Florida. Hence, I was able to keep a straight face when he announced, matter of factly, 'I just bought the Wilson Plantation.'"
"Really?, Did you get the town too?"
" 'matter of fact, I did. And five plantation houses to boot."
"Just how big is that plantation anyway?"
"Around forty thousand acres by the time I got it, used to be sixty.
"Another quick Google check: showed that he wasn't lying. No idea what he intended to do with it; he died a couple of years later, before I had a chance ask him. I'll tell you more about him later."
-----------------------------------
Steve finally wound down, the adrenalin rush of recollection wearing off. Jim says: "Just north of Blytheville, Arkansas. Where do we stop?""Little town of Hayti, Missouri; only one exit, should be able to find a decent motel and a good meal. Caruthersville is just a few miles east to the river. One of the few places you could cross the river between Cairo and Memphis, back then. It was either Cairo and Memphis with bridges, or Cottonwood Point, Caruthersville or Tiptonville with ferries. 'guess the riverboat gambling casino is still here. Anytime you're near that kind of money, good food and accommodations and most everything else is not far away. Say, did you know that Bill Clinton's original name was Blythe? His real father died and his mom remarried and he was adopted by his step dad. 'you a gambler?, No?, didn't think so; me neither, I can go bankrupt in a nickel poker game; you have to pay attention if you don't want to lose; I can't help thinking of it as a game."
"Who's Bill Clinton?"
He paused for a moment, glanced at the grinning driver, then,
"Relative of the president; came from around here someplace. 'thought you were a history major."
"Just pullin'' your chain a little."
-------------------------------
"Hayti, comin' up.""Take the ramp and turn left at the light, toward town. Let's us see what we can find."
Motel 8 (or was it 6?) had indeed "Left the light on" for them, and after a shower and a change, Steve called: "What say we cruise on over to the casino and see if there is a decent place to eat, and maybe get a drink? 'don't think we will find much here in town this early after dark, particularly on a weekday evening. I'm hungry."
"OK, see ya outside in a few."
It was a little after dark when they cruised by the casino, a huge facsimile of an old time sternwheeler. it was not, nor had it ever been, floating. Had it, by some freak of nature, found itself actually in the river, it would have sunk under the weight of the neon lights alone, never mind the slot machines and game table that filled the inside.
"Wanna go in?, Jim says, weakly.
"Nah, let's go eat. Saw a place on the way in that might be OK. Sign said 'Dinner Club', but you never know."**
The dimly lit parking lot was, perhaps a quarter filled, when they parked and went in. The lights were low in the empty dining room downstairs. A somewhat flustered but smiling hostess appeared and escorted them to a table in an upstairs dining room; only two other tables were occupied, an older couple up near the stage and a 'thirty something' man and woman in the shadows against the far wall.
Their table was against the wall, Steve facing the entrance, an unconscious habit left over from his Army days; Jim faced the stage.
"So, where's all the people? 'parking lot's half full." Jim says quietly.
"It's still early."
"That don't answer the question."
-------------------------------
"Drinks, gentlemen?" the waitress inquired sweetly, as she handed them the menus."Gin martini, Bombay, up, with an olive," Steve announced.
"I'll just have a draft." says Jim. "What's good to eat, I'm hungry?"
"Steaks, without question. Chef buys the meat locally, aged and never frozen; cooks it like his salvation depends on it. Look over the menu, I'll be back."
Jim looks across the table, grinned, "You knew this place was here, didn't you?
"Knew it was a few years ago; doesn't seem to have changed much."
"Figures."
She placed the drinks deftly on the napkins, the martini filled to the rim and not a drop spilled. "Have you decided?"
"I'll have the New York strip, medium rare, baked potato." Steve volunteered, "something Italian for dressing on the salad."
"Same for me, but cook it a little longer, medium at least."
"You won't be sorry." and she was gone.
Steve sipped his drink, "Don't look now, but can you see the couple on the far side of the room?"
"Just."
"Don't stare, but watch."
She wore a tailored white suit, skirt just above the knee, scarlet blouse and a loose jacket, along with four inch white pumps. Obviously expensive but subdued jewelry, no rings or watch. Long blond hair, piled high neatly on top. He wore a rumpled sport coat, barely covering the NASCAR tee shirt. He looked to have had a few drinks; only appetizers on the table. Her attention was totally focused on her companion; her eyes never left his face. He was talking incessantly, gesturing and laughing. She smiled and laughed appropriately on cue.
"What am I looking for?"
"The story. People always tell a story. All you have to do is watch."
"All I see is a couple having dinner, maybe on vacation from the city."
"Look close. She's a pro. I'm betting that he's had a good day at the tables, and now he has a new best friend to help him celebrate. They will be leaving soon and he will probably be back to the tables by midnight where he will lose most of what he won. It's always the same."
"I'll be dammed, how d'you know all this?"
"I love watching people, it's educational."
-------------------------------
The steaks were even better than advertised; they told her so."You guys here for the evening?" she inquired as she asked about dessert.
"Just passing through, got to hit the sack, important appointment over at Kennett tomorrow.
"Should stick around; it's a fun town," she said with a hint of a smile and a touch of sarcasm.
"Not tonight, dear. You can bring the check."
The table across the room was being bussed and readied for the next customer.
-------------------------------------
* Christian Brothers' College, Well known high school and Jr. College in Memphis.
** Actually Steve lost $50 at Black Jack, but don't tell Grandma.
Watch for the next one: "Senath" coming soon..
