I’ve been fascinated by the South for a long time and Lucinda’s lyrics bring back some fond memories. When I was 17, in 1972, before I went to college I spent a month or two hitchhiking throughout the South, sometimes with a buddy, Ray Gildea, from Mississippi, sometimes by myself. I followed my musical thumb to Jackson, to Clarksville on the Delta, to Memphis, to Nashville, to Macon, Ga., even to Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Walked into the studio where Aretha and Duane recorded, looked at the gold records on the wall, then walked out, ended up sleeping that night in a park outside of town. In Macon I visited the Greyhound Bus Station where Little Richard was washing dishes when he was discovered, ate grits at Louise’s of Allman Bros fame, and drove past the farm where Otis and Thelma Redding lived. Hitching down to Jackson one night with Ray, the truck we caught was going “all the way to New Orleans” so I let Ray join his high school buddies in Jackson while I rode on to the Crescent City. By time we got there it was getting light and I was yawning, so I ate this huge pill the driver offered and ending up staying up three straight days! My travels around the South were the coolest thing I’ve ever done and gave me stories to use for years, some of which were even true. My “little” brother (who is now 43!) is still in awe of me.
Dave Jaffe, Austin, Texas, December 2001
djaffe@austin.rr.com