Often Imitated. NEVAH DUPLICATED. ROBERTOREG KEEP THANGS SIMPLICATED!
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Click here to see Wes Hardin painting the mural:
Marvin Taylor
"Values are like fingerprints - nobody's are the same, but you leave 'em all over everything you do."
Elvis Presley
AK~
BEE BRANCH | The first time I ever heard a Robert Johnson song, it was probably on the juke box in the Birmingham-Southern College student center in 1966, although it was not the original by the King of the Delta Blues; it was a frenetic version of "Crossroads" by Cream, a young British trio led by one Eric Clapton.
The first time I ever met Ben Windham, the former Editorial Page Editor of The Tuscaloosa News who announced his Jan. 31 retirement in today's paper, was also in 1966 and likely in that same rec center.
We immediately bonded over a shared taste in music, at that point mostly the blues and Bob Dylan, beat literature and a facile cynicism characteristic of all the little Holden Caufields who I imagine are still showing up with intellectual chips on their shoulders on college campuses across the nation every fall.
By our second semester we were roommates and as fate would have it, worked together (with a few side trips here and there) for most of the last 35 years, first at The Decatur Daily and then for nearly three decades at The Tuscaloosa News.
When Ben wrote a column published Dec. 21 about a Christmas present of a weathered board from the home in which Robert Johnson was allegedly born that he was giving "a friend," I was a bit envious. That is, until I opened my present from him Christmas morning to find that board, by far my most cherished gift of this holiday.
It wasn't long, of course, after hearing the Cream 45 that spun almost incessantly on that juke box that I discovered the real Robert Johnson, probably on one of the many LPs Ben brought to college with him. I also distinctly remember my reaction maybe 30 years later when the first picture of Johnson was published in Rolling Stone: I was chilled to my bones and had to get up and walk around the house a few times before I could even speak.
For anyone who feels a connection to the blues, the deepest is likely to be with Johnson, who was at one time thought to be almost sui generis, that is, a singularly haunted man as much legend as fact -- a man who purportedly sold his soul to the devil at that crossroads to become the immortal musician he remains and who sang mean, tortured songs about beating his woman until he got satisfied, the "blues falling down like hail" and the "hellhounds" on his trail.
Well, recent books and even a CD Ben included with the board containing contemporaneous blues recordings demonstrating that Johnson did a whole lot of borrowing, have made a pretty good case for Johnson being just one of many obscure musicians mining everlasting songs from the deep black soil and experience of the Mississippi Delta in the 1920s and 1930s.
Still...
There is something about Johnson, who was recorded in only two sessions before dying at the age of 27 in 1938 (again, in one telling howling like a dog after being poisoned by either a jealous man or woman), that resonates deeply in the darker parts of some of our souls; I've had hellhounds on my trail at certain points in my life, too. And may again some day, at which point I'll feel around for my shoes, walk over to that stack of CDs and dig out the Johnson boxed set to get a little satisfaction of my own.
As for Ben, well, our lives and the lives of our families have been so intertwined that I don't think it will make much difference that I won't be seeing him first thing every workday morning, sitting down to sip on my coffee with him and, yes, sharing a few early morning cynicisms. I know where he lives, I've got his telephone numbers and the same can be said of him and my home and numbers.
Here's a link to Ben's column about the board he gave me and the one he kept for himself and here's one to his retirement -- but not farewell -- column, since he will continue to contribute his essays for publication every Sunday. In the first column you'll find the details of how he came into possession of these profane artifacts. In the second he ruminates on how the only dogs he'll have on his trail for the foreseeable future will be corgis.
By Peggy Ussery
Published: April 30, 2009
The images are larger than life.
On one end of the brick wall is the legendary Ray Charles with his trademark dark glasses. On the other end is Bobby Goldsboro, known for his 1969 hit “Honey,” holding a guitar. The two musicians may seem to have nothing in common, but they share a connection to the Wiregrass. And they’re among the musicians immortalized on a brick wall in downtown Dothan.
“There just aren’t enough walls to tell the story of music in the Wiregrass,” mural artist Wes Hardin said.
It started out as a mural dedicated to the arts. But as the Festival of Murals committee began reviewing designs and options, one mural became three. This makes 20 murals for downtown Dothan.
The first in the series, painted on the side of a law office in the 300 block of North Foster Street, should be completed in time for this weekend’s Mural City Art Fest street festival. The street festival is Saturday from 9:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. throughout the downtown historic district. Activities will be held at the Wiregrass Museum of Art, Poplar Head Park, the Dothan Opera House and along North Foster Street.
Eventually, there will be a gospel/jazz mural and a country music mural. There is also an interactive aspect planned so visitors can use a radio to listen to a narrative about the music murals and samples of music by the artists featured.
The first mural focuses on contemporary musicians with Wiregrass connections.
There are musicians — like brothers John Rainey and David Adkins — who may not be as well known or musicians whose Wiregrass connections aren’t so obvious.
David Adkins remembers his older brother John Rainey Adkins working on the song “Georgia Pines,” which John Rainey wrote with Buddy Buie, at the family’s home on West Main Street in downtown Dothan.
John Rainey Adkins played with The Webs, which backed-up Roy Orbison during the National Peanut Festival in the late 1960s. Orbison was so impressed, he hired the group as his permanent back-up band and called them The Candymen.
“There’s a lot of talent that comes out of this part of the country,” David Adkins said. “I’m glad they’re finally being acknowledged.”
And he can’t believe he’s up there with them.
“It’s really kind of overwhelming at first,” the 55-year-old Adkins said. “It’s just a real honor to up there for all time.”
David Adkins played with John Rainey, who was 12 years older, in the group Beaverteeth. And he thinks his brother, who died of a heart attack in 1989 at age 47, would be honored to be included in the mural.
“He would love it, I’m sure,” David Adkins said. “He’d be thrilled.”
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Who’s in the mural?
Ray Charles — Born in Albany, Ga., the blind soul singer known for hits like “Georgia on My Mind” and “Hit the Road Jack.”
Dean Daughtry — Keyboardist with the Atlanta Rhythm Section. Daughtry, who is from Kinston, also played with Roy Orbison’s back-up band The Candymen and with the group Classics IV.
Buddy Buie — A songwriter and producer from Dothan who now lives in Eufaula. He wrote or co-wrote songs such as “Traces” and “Spooky.” He has been recognized by both Alabama’s and Georgia’s Music Hall of Fame.
David Adkins — Dothan musician who played with Beaverteeth, once the back-up band for B.J. Thomas.
John Rainey Adkins — Dothan musician and member of The Webs. He played lead guitar with The Candymen, Roy Orbison’s back-up band.
Wilbur Walton Jr. — Another Dothan musician who performed with The Candymen. He later played with The James Gang.
Mickey Thomas — Born in Cairo, Ga., Thomas was best known for singing lead on the 1976 song “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” while with The Elvin Bishop Band. In 1979, he became lead singer of Jefferson Starship, which was formerly known as Jefferson Airplane and then later known as just Starship. While Thomas was on vocals, Jefferson Starship had hits with “Sara,” “Nothing Gonna Stop Us Now” and “We Built This City.”
Martha Reeves — That’s Martha Reeves as in Martha and the Vandellas, the popular Motown act known for early 1960s songs like “Heatwave” and “Dancing in the Streets.” Reeves was born in Eufaula, although she was raised in Detroit. On the mural she is flanked by the Vandellas.
Bobby Goldsboro — Born in Marianna, Fla., and moved to Dothan at 15. Goldsboro was with The Webs and then The Candymen before going solo. He had a number one song, “Honey,” in 1968.
I will be happy to answer any questions you might have about me. My email address is robertoreg@gmail.com
