The Crossroads are real and The Blues is a place; The enduring myth of Robert Johnson

The life and times of legendary Bluesman Robert Johnson is one that is one that has been thickly shrouded in myth. It is a tale that has permanently woven itself into the American psyche.

The story goes like this: Johnson wants to be a Bluesman, but doesn’t have the talent or ability to play guitar. He’s so bad that other Bluesman, such as Son House, will not let him play, and have him removed from the stage. So, to fix this he goes to the crossroads of US 61 and US 49 in Clarksdale, and makes a midnight pact with Old Nick. Robert returns to the juke joints, flooring Son and other players, blazing a hellfire musical trail from New Orleans to Chicago. That is, until Lucifer comes to claim his prize: Robert’s Soul. He leaves Robert to die on his hands and knees, howling at unseen tormentors. His body is then quickly whisked away, buried next to the highway, as he asked to be in one of his songs. Word continues to spread of his musical genius, influencing an army of individuals, laying down the foundation for what would become Rock & Roll. While this makes for an interesting barroom story, there’s only a small grain of truth to it.

It’s often said that when given the choice between life & legend, go with the legend. When it comes to Robert Johnson, the tale itself has taken over the life, and stolen away from the man. There have been mountains of books written on the subject, hours of documentaries, and a handful of fictional movies made. one could easily fill a modest library with media dedicated to the ‘Legend of the Crossroads’.

And yet, the known, undisputed facts of the man’s life would barely fill a few pages.

The truth of Robert Johnson’s life is this: he was a man with an extraordinary talent, who died far too early.

Here’s his biography in a very brief, abridged nutshell:

Robert Leroy Johnson was born in 1911 in Hazelhurst, Mississippi. His parents were Julia Major Dodds and Noah Johnson. His early life was, at best, fractured or even outright broken.

With only a basic education, living in the Jim Crow era South, and with job prospects that, one way or another, had the words “back-breaking,” “dangerous,” “low pay” or “dead end” in the description, Johnson chose a way that would let him escape this fate: to be a traveling or Walking Bluesman.

There was just one problem; while Robert could sing and play a decent harmonica & mouth harp, his experience with a guitar was, at best, upsettingly mediocre. Son House, recalling Robert’s attempt to play while he and Willie Johnson were in between sets, described the young Johnson’s playing as “awful”.

Shortly after this incident, Robert Johnson left the area. In his traveling, Robert met Isaiah “Ike” Zimmerman, who agreed to teach and mentor Robert in playing a guitar. Because of Robert’s initial inabilities, Ike lessoned Robert in nearby cemeteries, where they would not be disturbed, and the noise wouldn’t bother anyone. Several months later, after learning all he could from Ike, Johnson hit the proverbial road to make his way and living. Upon returning to Robinsonville, Mississippi, Son House was astonished by the newly learned abilities.

From then on, Robert Johnson led a nomadic life, pausing briefly from time to time to stay in the company of women who would dote on him (and in one case he would marry, in another, father a child). But before long, he would be back on the road.

While he preferred to keep his own company and travel alone, on occasions he would travel with and work other players, such as Johnny Shines. But usually, it would just be himself. Robert would play just about any place that would pay him, quite often under assumed names, to avoid problems that may have sprung up for a laundry list of reasons. But the most common place he could be found playing in any of the many places he travelled to, would be a street corner, playing for any change thrown into his hat or guitar case. He wouldn’t just play Blues, though. In order to make the most money, Robert would tailor the songs to the crowd, playing anything from his own songs, to popular songs of the day.

In between 1936 and 1937, Robert Johnson travelled to Texas, and made a total of 41 recordings for producer Don Law. Most of these were released as 78s on the Vocalion label. ‘Terraplane Blues’ became a regional hit, selling 5,000 copies. For these recordings, he was paid several hundred dollars.

The death of Robert Johnson occurred on August 16th, 1938. While opinions on the circumstances that lead to his death can vary greatly, most agree that he was poisoned, and lingered in agony for several days before dying. Most agree that he was poisoned by a jealous husband whose wife Robert had been seeing. At the time of his dying, he was 27.

Robert Leroy Johnson was buried shortly after his passing. Officially, no one knows the exact location of his final resting place.

Because of his nomadic life, Johnson left behind few material possessions. To date, there are only three known, verified, and publicly available photos, and a handful of papers relating to his life.

After his demise, Robert Johnson was all but forgotten, except for a small group of people who knew him or he had an impact on. It would not be until 1961, more than two decades after his death, that a world-wide audience would take notice, lifting him out of obscurity into his rightful place in history.

In the years since his demise, much has been written on the life and times of Robert Johnson in an attempt to give a reader a better understanding of the man’s life and music. Some of it is grossly inaccurate, while other pieces are quite well done. But most, in an attempt to be academic, miss a broader, more important point: The Blues, and the music of Robert Johnson, is about emotion and experience.

Johnson’s music, like many of his contemporaries, took everyday experiences, reached deep inside and captured and transformed the sexual intensity, dark loneliness, soul-crushing poverty and more, into pure, soul-touching songs that could be ecstatic, reaching angelic heights or the tortured depths of Perdition. This was saturday night music. Tunes to cut loose to; to drink corn whiskey, and dance and gamble a little. Maybe even something more intimate, if all the cards were played right. This is the soul of Johnson’s music.

To get a complete picture, you must travel to the heart of where The Blues was born & raised.

Mississippi of today is not the same place that many a Blues performer such as Robert Johnson, Son House, and Muddy Waters once called home. A lot has changed, but a lot has also remained the same. Gone are the Jim Crow laws, and the segregationist structuring, as are the days when The Blues, Jazz, and other forms of music were recorded and sold as “race records”.

When driving into Mississippi, it’s quite clear that they are now proud of their musical heritage. As you approach the state border, you see it on the welcome signs. Taking Highway 61, the Blues Highway, all the important individuals, and places have been marked with signs , and placed in easy-to find locations. It’s quite easy and makes for a great, historical vacation. But does it fill in that missing piece? Not entirely. No. For that, you’re going to have to get out, and walk.

The communities of Hazelhurst, & Crystal Springs are small, and less than ten miles apart. They are small enough that its easy enough to drive through both communities in less than three to five minutes total. Most people touring The Blues Highway are content with stopping at the markers, reading the information, stopping at the Robert Johnson Blues Foundation and maybe having lunch. A few will attempt to locate the grave of Tommy Johnson to pay their respects. But most, will spend less than a small fraction of time here, without realizing the significant gem they’re missing.

Robert Johnson was born in Hazelhurst, and it’s where his direct descendants still call home. To walk the streets, sidewalks, backroads, the interconnecting highways, the shortcuts and trails, is to immerse into the place that played a major role in the formation of Robert Johnson’s music, but also The Blues.

To feel the Mississippi sun on your brow, or the pouring rain. To experience the emptiness of a frontage road. To see and step into the buildings, homes, shacks, and juke joints that have been around and in use for more than a century. To eat the food prepared from recipes handed down over decades, to meet the people who call this area home. To delve into social traditions, local norms and heritage: these make up the fabric which Robert Johnson was cut from, what made up his songs and lyrics. This is the proverbial “crossroads”.

Researching Robert Johnson’s life & times, is indeed a noble pursuit. Such research may one day result in an overlooked contract, an official record, a handbill, or even a photograph. But to pursue or perpetuate the myth only serves to take away and overshadow Johnson’s music, abilities and accomplishments. Especially when the true answer to the supernatural mystery is all around you.

nabob@pigdog.org