A light rain is falling outside. The radio crackles the announcement “…in honor of the late blues player and legend, today will be known as Blues Boy King here in Memphis.”
I head down to the infamous Beale Street to pay tribute to B.B King.
It sets the tone of the day perfectly. His Mississippi voice can be heard on every street corner, and it lingers as I make my way down to the banks of the mighty river and feel the past in the confederate stone walls of the Civil War.
Methodist universities and rusty cannons become my attractions in this Southern Belle, a most welcome surprise indeed.
Long live the King of the Blues.