Show 35 - Illinois Central Railroad and Cannonball Train

Train songs are one of the cornerstones of the cornerstones of the blues. I thought I'd look at one railroad company, the illinois Central and the train they called the cannonball. The Cannonball was never an official designation, it was just a nickname for a fast train, particularly the about one that ran from New Orleans to Chicago. Officially, the Panama Limited and later the City of New Orleans, the cannonball was the subject of many great songs, usually about a man getting away from some kind of trouble. Charlie McCoy recorded one about his woman leaving him, recorded in 1930 in Jackson, Mississippi it's That Lonesome Train Took My Baby Away.

Woke up this morning, found something wrong
My loving babe had caught that train and gone
Now won't you starch my jumper, iron my overalls
I'm going to ride that train that they call the Cannonball

Mister depot agent, close your depot down
The woman I'm loving, she's fixing to blow this town
Now that mean old fireman, that cruel old engineer
Going to take my baby and leave me lonesome here

It ain't no telling what that train won't do
It'll take your baby and run right over you
Now that engineer man ought to be ashamed of himself
Take women from their husbands, babies from their mother's breast

I walked down the track when the stars refused to shine
Looked like every minute I was going to lose my mind
Now my knees was weak, my footsteps was all I heard
Looked like every minute I was stepping in another world

Mister depot agent, close your depot down
The girl I'm loving, she's fixing to blow this town
Now that mean old fireman, cruel old engineer
Going to take my baby and leave me lonesome here

You can't overstate the importance the Illinois Central played in Northern migration. Countless African-Americans rode the train away from a Southern way of life. They would also ride it back down South to visit freinds and family, escape from the cold, or get away from the different difficulties encountered in Northern cities. Tampa Red sang about it in I.C. Moan.

Nobody knows that I.C. like I do
Nobody knows that I.C. like I do
Now the reason I know, I've rode it through and through

That I.C. Special is the only train I choose
That I.C. Special is the only train I choose
That's the train I ride when I get these I.C. blues

Mr. I.C. engineer, make that whistle moan
Mr. I.C. engineer, make that whistle moan
I've got the I.C. blues and I just can't help but groan

Goodbye Chicago, hello Southern town
Goodbye Chicago, hello Southern town
I want to go back baby then to be here dogged around

I've got the I.C. Blues and that's what's on my mind
I've got the I.C. Blues and that's what's on my mind
I'm gonna pack my things and move it on down the line

Frank Hutchison was a great slide guitar player usually classified on the country side of the music, primarily because he was a white man. He sang about the cannonball train coming to take him away in Cannonball Blues.

Oh the blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling sad
Oh the blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling sad
I know that feeling, its one I've often had

Went to the bedside looked in the woman's face
Went to the bedside looked in the woman's face
I love you honey, bu I don't like your lowdown ways

I opened up the door and stepped out on the ground
I opened up the door and stepped out on the ground
Goodbye honey, I'm Alabama bound

Yonder come that train coming down the railroad track
Yonder come that train, she's coming down the railroad track
She'll take me away, but she ain't gonna bring me back

When I leave here, don't you wear no black
Oh when I leave here, honey don't you wear no black
If you do, my ghost is gonna sneak right back

That train i ride, she's called the cannonball
That train i ride, she's called the cannonball
Carries 16 coaches, she carries no blinds at all

Gonna lay my head down on some railroad line-
Gonna lay my head down on some railroad line
Let the cannonball come and pacify my mind

I looked out the window as far as I can see
I looked out the window as far as I can see
While the brass kind of plain, nearer my
god to thee

Frank Hutchison sang about committing suicide by letting the Cannonball come to take his troubles away. Blind Lemon Jefferson recorded Lemon's Cannonball Blues.

Sam Collins recorded Riverside Blues for Gennett in 1927:

I went down to the river just thirty‑one days and nights
I went down to the river just thirty‑one days and nights
I'm looking for my good gal, come back and treat me right

I ain't got me nobody carry my troubles to
I ain't got me nobody carry my troubles to
I tell you peoples I don't know what to do

Just as sure as your train, Lord backs up in your yard
Just as sure as your train, Lord backs up in your yard
I'm going to see my baby if I have to ride the rods

I went away last summer, got back in the fall
I went away last summer, got back in the fall
My mind had changed, I wouldn't have come back at all

You can press my jumper, iron my overalls
You can press my jumper, iron my overalls
I'm going to the station, meet the Cannonball

The most famous legend associated with the I.C. and its Cannonball Train is the story of Casey Jones, an I.C. engineer who died in 1900 when his train crashed into a stopped freight train in Vaughn, Mississippi. The train was officially called the New Orleans special, but the newspaper headlines read I.C. Cannon Ball Wrecked. Jones' heroic effort trying to save the lives of his passenger made him a railroad icon, but it was the songs about him that made him a legend and folk hero across the entire country. Let's hear the story from piano player Jesse James who recorded it in 1936 under the title Southern Casey Jones:

I heard the people say Casey Jones can't run
I'm going to tell you what the poor boy done
Left Cincinnati about half past nine
Got to Newport News before dinner time, fore dinner time, that's fore dinner time
Got to Newport News before dinner time

Now Casey Jones said before he died
He fixed the road so a bum could ride
And if he ride he have to ride the rod
Rest his heart in the hand of God, hand of God, in the hand of God
Had to Rest his heart in the hand of God

Now little girl says mama is that a fact
Papa got killed on the I.C. track
Yes yes honey but hold your breath
Get that money from your daddy's death, from your daddy's death, from your
daddy's death
You get money from your daddy's death from your daddy's death,
from your daddy's death
You get money from your daddy's death

When the news reached town Casey Jones was dead
Women went home and had it out in red
Slipping and sliding all across the streets
With their loose mother hubbards in their stocking feet, stocking feet, stocking feet
loose mother hubbards in their stocking feet

Now Casey Jones went from place to place
Another train hit his train right in the face
People got off but Casey Jones stayed on
Natural born eastman but he's dead and gone, dead and gone, he's dead and gone
He's a natural born eastman but he's dead and gone

Here come the biggest boy coming right from school
Hollering and crying like a doggone fool
Look here mama is our papa dead?

Womens going home and had it out in red
Low cut shoes and their evening gowns
Following papa to the burying ground, to this burying ground, to this
burying ground
Following papa down to this burying ground,

Now tell the truth mama he says is that a fact
Papa got killed on the I.C. track
Quit crying boy don't do that
You got another daddy on the same damn track, on the same track, on the same track
Say you got another daddy on the same track.

Though Jesse James sang that the train left Cincinnati for Newport News, the historical Casey Jones died on the southern leg of the Illinois Central route from Chicago to New Orleans. You can't underestimate the importance that railroad played in the lives of people in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Tennessee looking to go North on the train they called the cannonball. Whether using the term cannonball to refer to that specific train or just another fast train that was leaving town, the cannonball occupied an important place in the blues.

Songs:
That Lonesome Train Took My Baby Away - Charlie McCoy
I.C. Moan - Tampa Red
Cannonball Blues - Frank Hutchison
Lemon's Cannonball Blues - Blind Lemon Jefferson
Riverside Blues - Sam Collins
Southern Casey Jones - Jesse James

Show 34 - Furniture Man Blues

The blues is often about losing what you have. In some songs, it's about losing your furniture. The Furniture Man: he shows up in quite a few blues songs. It's about not making a payment on furniture and hearing a knock at your door and knowing the furniture man's there with his wagon to take it all away. Furniture man songs go back to nineteenth century minstrel numbers, but they probably resonated particularly with music fans in the 1920s as installment payment plans became common for all kinds of goods and the average person was making payments after having been extended credit to buy products from somewhere.

In Furniture Man Blues, Victoria Spivey told her furniture man story accompanied by the great Lonnie Johnson playing the role of the furniture man.

Spivey: Who is that?
Johnson: Furniture man
Spivey: Oh. Aw, I ain't got no money today

Spivey: Furniture man, please don't take my furniture away
Johnson: I've got to take it. I ain't going to let it stay
Spivey: I'm a hard-working woman
Johnson: Yes, but you don't seem to get much pay

Spivey: Don't be so mean. Give a poor girl a little time
Johnson: You done had your time, and now it is a crime
Spivey: But I'm a good-lovin' mama
Johnson: But you ain't got a single dime

Spivey: Furniture man, don't move my lovin' foldin' bed
Johnson: I'm going to move it or lose my job instead
Spivey: That's where I get my pleasure
Johnson: Oh no, that's where you rest your head

Spivey: Furniture man, let me have another week to pay
Johnson: I said no, hot mama, I must have some dough today
Spivey: Well, my man will bring some money
Johnson: Well, he better bring it right away

Spivey: Leave my stove 'cause it's getting too doggone cold
Johnson: I got to haul your ashes before they get too old
Spivey: Oh, please remove that clicker
Johnson: Then it will be red hot, I'm told

Part 2:

Spivey: Furniture man, won't you crawl around here after dark?
Johnson: If I crawl around, mama, will you let me park?
Spivey: Yes, and we'll do some business
Johnson: I'm out until four o'clock

Spivey: If you will agree, I know how we can get it fixed
Johnson: Gal, stop tempting me. I will get all o' my days nixed
Spivey: Let's get together
Johnson: I'm onto all of your tricks

Spivey: When I get through, you'll cancel every debt I owe
Johnson: And when I get you, mama, we will do so-and-so
Spivey: Well, then, make me know it
Johnson: Well, come on, honey, baby, let's go

Spivey: Come into my parlor, furniture man, and close the door
Johnson: Baby I can't stand it. You will get me nervous, I'm sure
Spivey: I got something for you
Johnson: Why ain't you said that long before?

Spivey: Furniture man, say you'll give me just another chance?
Johnson: You can have some money, mama, just take it in advance
Spivey: Now you talkin' daddy
Johnson: That's it mama, right over in my pants.

Attempts to avoid the furniture man by people behind on their payments were common enough that the Reverend J.M. Gates recorded two sermons exhorting his followers to pay the furniture man and answer the door when the furniture man came knocking, Pay Your Furniture Man and Don't Hide from Your Furniture Man.
In the nineteenth century, furniture dealers were some of the first retailers to use installment credit payment plans as a way to increase sales. But by 1930, installment payment was the norm for funriture. According to a Department of Commerce survey, installment credit financed 80-90% of furniture sales.

Iin 1927, Georgia musician Lil McLintock recorded Furniture Man, a song that sounds straight off the vaudeville stage:

What insurance has the poor man got, with the furniture man?
If he's got no dough, he's got no show
Right back there the wagon gonna stand
He'll take everything that you possess
From a bed-tick to a frying pan
If there ever was a devil born without horns, it must have been a furniture man
So take your time, Mister Brown, take-a your time
All of this furniture am mine
Well this piano and everything, Mister Cooper had it written down in my name
So take your time, Mister Brown, take your time
...

The Furniture man songs contain some interesting racial elements. There were often actually two furniture men, the white store owner who ultimately collected the payments and a black employee who would show up to collect the missed payments and take the furniture if he had to. To explore this, let's step into the world of white country music. The racial element jumps out at you as soon as you hear the name of the group that recorded the song, Riley the Furniture Man it's the Georgia Crackers from 1927. The song is about the indignity the white singer feels at having a black man remove his furniture. It's interesting to hear the a shared problem addressed in white country music where the singer pays so much attention to race including the offensive language that is absent in the blues songs.

Going to that loan man it ought to be bad
Mr. Riley wagon's been here, got everything I had
Riley been here, got my furniture and gone
Riley come to my house, and these are the words he said:
Told that nigger driver, take down that rosewood(?) bed.

Makes no difference to the white man just white as Christmas snow
If you don't pay Mr. Riley, he'll take your furniture for sure
Riley he was a white man and he lived on 16th Street
Every Saturday evening, Mr. Riley you would meet

Riley been here, got my furniture and gone

Luke Jordan took several old minstrel show themes and turned them into a modern blues for 1927. Cocaine Blues included these furniture man lyrics:

Now the furniture man came to my house it was last Sunday morn
They asked me was my wife at home and I told she has long been gone
He backed his wagon up to my door, took everything I had
He carried it back to the furniture store and I swear I did feel sad

What in the world has anyone got, dealing with the furniture man,
If you've got no dough, to stand up for sure, he certainly will take it back.
He will take everything from an earthly plant, from the skillet to a frying pan.
If there ever was a devil born without any horns, it must have been the furniture man.

The increase in consumer credit may have been what caused the furniture man theme to show up in so many song in the second half of the 1920s. It's an interesting place where we see vaudeville music becoming the blues, songs addressing contemporary and historic issues, reflecting racial issues of the day, and providing light on the everyday problems of individuals trying to make their payments to the furniture man.


Songs:
Furniture Man Blues Parts 1 and 2 - Victoria Spivey and Lonnie Johnson
Furniture Man - Lil McLintock
Riley the Furniture Man - Georgia Crackers
Cocaine Blues - Luke Jordan
Pay Your Furniture Man - Rev. J.M. Gates
Don't Hide from Your Furniture Man - Rev. J.M. Gates

Show 33 - Dog Blues

Songs:
Saturday Blues - Ishmon Bracey
Police Dog Blues - Blind Blake
Please Don't Go - Big Joe Williams
Sobbin' Woman Blues - Elizabeth Johnson
Low Down Dirty Dog Blues - Leroy Carr
Low Down Dirty Dog Blues - Son House
Black Dog Blues - Blind Blake

Show 32 - Blues at the Fort Valley Folk Festival

These songs are available from the Library of Congress. Check out http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/ftvhtml/ftvhome.html.

Songs:
I'm Gonna Make You Happy - Buster Brown
My Fat Hipted Mama - Charles Ellis
Milk Cow Blues - Gus Gibson and Will Chastain
Tear Tokyo Down - Sam Jackson
Po' Boy Long Ways From Home - Sonny Chestain
Do Right By Me - Buster Ezell -
Fort Valley Blues - Smith Band

Show 31 - Mississippi Road Trip

For this show, I thought we'd travel around Mississippi listening to songs that talk about various towns and parts of the state. We'll start in the small Delta town of Avalon in Caroll County a little north of Greenwood. It's the home of Mississippi John Hurt and this is the song that led to his return to playing music in the 1960s when researcher Tom Hoskins looked in Avalon to see if John Hurt was still in the hometown he sang about in 1928:

In New York this morning, just about half past nine
In New York this morning, just about half past nine
Thought of my mama in Avalon, couldn't hardly keep from crying
Avalon my home town, always on my mind
Avalon my home town, always on my mind
Pretty mamas in Avalon want me there all the time

When the train left Avalon throwing kisses and waving at me
When the train left Avalon throwing kisses and waving at me
Says come back daddy, stay right here with me

Avalon's a small town, have no great big range
Avalon's a small town, have no great big range
Pretty mamas in Avalon sure will spend your change

New York's a good town, but it's not for mine
New York's a good town, but it's not for mine
Going back to Avalon, stay there with pretty mama all the time

As he sang in Avalon Blues, John Hurt was clearly a Mississippi guy, but his playing often sounds more typical of an east coast musician from North Carolina or Virginia. But another Mississippi musician was a Mississippi guy all the way through. He sang like he was from Mississippi, played guitar like he was from Mississippi, and sang songs about Mississippi. It's Charley Patton, the greatest chronicler of Mississippi in blues song. In Stone Pony Blues from 1934, he sings about Vicksburg, Greenville, Lula, and Natchez.

I got me a stone pony and I don't ride Shetland no more
I got me a stone pony and I don't ride Shetland no more
You can find my stone pony hooked to my rider's door

Vicksburg's my pony, Greenville is my great mare
Vicksburg's my pony, Greenville is my great mare
You can find my stone pony down in Lula town somewhere

And I got me a stone pony, don't ride Shetland no more
Got a stone pony, don't ride Shetland no more
And I can't feel welcome, rider nowhere I go

Vicksburg's on a high hill and Natchez just below
Vicksburg's on a high hill, Natchez just below
And I can't feel welcome, rider nowhere I go

“Stone Pony” was an expression for anything good. Patton's uses the phrase as a metaphor for young women he has around Mississippi.

Big Bill Broonzy was one of the many who made the trek out of Mississippi to Chicago. But he never forgot the South. In Lowland Blues from 1936 he sings about Jackson, Greenwood, and anywhere in Mississippi being his true home.

When I get down in the lowland, I won't be mistreated no more
I'm going to Jackson, Greenwood is where I belong
I'm going to Jackson, Greenwood is where I belong
Anywhere in Mississippi is my native home

Bukka White sang about his troubled times with the women in Aberdeen, Mississippi.

I was over in Aberdeen on my way to New Orleans
I was over in Aberdeen on my way to New Orleans
Them Aberdeen women told me they will buy my gasoline

There's two little women that I ain't never seen
There's two little women that I ain't never seen
These two little women they're from New Orleans

I'm sitting down in Aberdeen with New Orleans on my mind
I'm sitting down in Aberdeen with New Orleans on my mind
Lord I believe them Aberdeen women going to make me lose my mind

Aberdeen is my home but the men don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home but the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women and take them out of town

Listen you Aberdeen women, you know I ain't got no dime
Listen you women, you know I ain't got no dime
They had the poor boy all hobbled down

New Orleans is over 300 miles away from Aberdeen. But that was nothing to many blues musicians willing to pick up and go for any reason. For Bukka White it was to get away from the Aberdeen women and to get to some new ones down in New Orleans. Like Mississippi John Hurt, Bukka White returned to playing because of that song when a letter came addressed to Bukka White, Blues Singer, Aberdeen, Mississippi. It was from the great guitar player, John Fahey. And it resulted in White playing music across the country and the world.

The legendary Son House recorded a song about Clarksdale that was finally released last year, Clarksdale Moan:

Clarksdale's in the South, and lays heavy on my mind
Clarksdale's in the South, lays heavy on my mind
I can have a good time there, if I ain't got but one lousy dime

Clarksdale, Mississippi always gonna be my home
Clarksdale, Mississippi always gonna be my home
That's the reason you hear me sit right here and moan
...

Nobody knows Clarksdale like I do
Nobody knows Clarksdale like I do
And the reason I know it, I follows it through and through

Every blues fan should visit Clarksdale. It's not surprising that a student of Son House also sang songs about Missisippi. Indeed, the legend of Robert Johnson, can't be separated from his travels from Mississippi town to Mississippi town. He sang about it on Traveling Riverside Blues:

If your man gets personal, want to have your fun
If your man gets personal, want to have your fun
Just come on back to Friar's Point mama and barrelhouse all night long

I've got womens in Vicksburg, clean on into Tennessee
I've got womens in Vicksburg, clean on into Tennessee
But my Friar's point rider now, hops all over me

I ain't going to state no color, but her front teeth crowned with gold
I ain't going to state no color, but her front teeth is crowned with gold
She got a mortgage on my body and a lien on my soul

Lord I'm going to Rosedale, going to take my rider by my side
Lord I'm going to Rosedale, going to take my rider by my side
We can still barrelhouse baby, because it's on the riverside

The amount of blues talent that's emerged from Mississippi is staggering.
Sometimes it seems like every small town in the Delta, and other parts of the state, was home to some musician who made a great record. It's tough to say why and its at least probably because scouts for the record companies were more aware of Mississippi talent than they were of other regions. But the Mississippi Delta, dominated by cotton fields and harsh plantation labor has been called the most Southern place on earth, and it's not a coincidence that so much of this great Southern music came from Mississippi. I'm glad so many musicians recorded songs about its towns.
Songs:

Avalon Blues - Mississippi John Hurt
Stone Pony Blues - Charley Patton
Lowland Blues - Big Bill Broonzy
Aberdeen Mississippi Blues - Bukka White
Clarksdale Moan - Son House
Traveling Riverside Blues - Robert Johnson

Show 30 - Prison Blues

Show 30 - Prison Blues

After taking a look at justice and the law, I thought I'd continue with a focus on prisons and songs that describe life in the penitentiary. Furry Lewis sang about the inevitability of ending up in the penitentiary once he ended up in the court of Judge Harsh. Furry Lewis singing about heading to prison despite never having harmed a man. His woman offers money to the judge, but its not enough to keep the penitentiary from becoming his home.

They arrest me for murder, I ain't never harmed a man
Women hollered murder and I ain't raised my hand...
Because I'm arrested baby, please don't grieve and moan
Penitentiary seems just like my home
People all hollering about what in the world they will do
Lots of people had justice and been in penitentiary too

Field recordings from Southern penitentiaries were a frequent pursuit of folklorists recording for the Library of Congress or universities. Alan Lomax recorded some remarkable songs by prisoners about their experiences including a harmonica feature from a man known only as Alex and a haunting vocal from Tangle Eye.

Prison Blues

Well now yall be standing around the courthouse babe
Lord knows when Judge Davis(?) give me my time
Lord yall be standing around the courthouse
When Judge Davis give me my time
When I begin to leave my baby crying
Lord knows Mr. Judge you give him too long
Said now that’s all right baby lord
knows I’ll make it over one old day
Said now that’s all right baby I’ll make
it over one old day
Now some of the days soon, I’ll make it back home
Now fare you well, fare you well babe
Lord knows I’m on my last go-round
Now fare you well, fare you well
Lord knows I’m on my last go-round
Well you know if I can live to be in this town
Babe I won’t be hollering
down in prison no more

Tangle Eye:

Oh Lord
Well I wonder will I ever get back home?
Oh Lord
Well it must have been the devil that pulled me here
more down and out
Oh Lord… if I ever get back home, I’ll never do wrong
If I can just make it home I won’t do wrong no more
Lord I won’t do wrong no more
Lord I left mae will and the baby in the courthouse crying daddy please don’t go
Lord I’ll be back home
Well, Lord I’ll be home one day before long
Away from here
Lord I been here rolling but it stays so long
Lord I’m down and out... must be
Come and see what’s done happened to me
Lord If I’d listened to what my dear old mother said
But she’s dead and gone, Lord she’s dead and gone
But I’m gonna do now

Many commercial blues singers also concerned themselves with the prison experience including Blind Lemon Jefferson's "Prison Cell Blues" from 1928.

Got a red eyed captain : and a squabbling boss
Got a mad dog sergeant
honey and he won't knock off
I asked the government to knock some days off my time
Well the way I'm treated, I'm about to lose my mind
I wrote to the governor, please turn me a loose
Since I didn't get no answer I know it ain't no use
I hate to turn over and find my rider gone

Aside from his loneliness, Jefferson sang about the difficulties with his captain, boss, and sergeant. These were common complaints for the prisoner. Jefferson also refers to writing to the governor. That was common for many prisoners, usually to no avail. However, letters to the governor or a judge accompanied by the support of a local white man, who might need the black prisoner, for his own labor, at times were enough to allow the release of a convict in the Deep South (this includes John and Alan Lomax influencing Governor Oscar K. Allen of Louisiana to grant Leadbelly his second pardon).

Peg Leg Howell recorded several songs about crimes and prison. In "Ball and Chain Blues" recorded in Atlanta in 1929, he sings a song about the hard labor that comes with a sentence. Labor was a constant in Southern prisons and it took various forms. Howell discusses being part of a chain gang working in a mine.

I asked the judge what might be my fine
Get a pick and shovel, dig down in the mine
I told the judge, I ain't been here before
If you give me light sentence, I won't come here no more

Mr judge Mr judge, please don't break so hard
I always been a poor boy, never hurt no John
So the next day they carried the poor boy away
Said the next day I had a ball and chain
Take the stripes off my back, chains from around my legs
This ball and chain about to kill me dead

Howell served time in Georgia prison camps for bootlegging offenses. He knew
what it was like to endure physical labor for the state as a prisoner. Chain
gang work had a reputation for harshness, but equally harsh systems in states
like Mississippi with Parchman Farm and Louisiana with Angola penitentiary had
their prisoners work the fields of a prison plantation. Nearly all observers
remarked on the similarities between these prisons and the systems of plantation
slavery that had ended decades earlier in those same states. Bukka White
recorded two songs about prison including "Parchman Farm Blues," recounting his
experience there.

Judge give me life this morning down on Parchman Farm
I wouldn't hate it so bad but I left my wife and my home
Oh goodbye wife all you have done gone
But I hope some day you will hear my lonesome song

Oh listen men I don't mean no harm
If you want to do good you better stay off of Parchman Farm
We goes to work in the morning just the dawn of day
Just at the setting of the sun, that's when the work is done

I'm down on old Parchman Farm, I sure want to go back home
But I hope some day I will overcome

Parchman Farm's crops created a huge amount of revenue for the state of Mississippi creating an incentive to imprison laborers for the fields. The prison's brutality was the stuff of legend. One of the few ways to be released early, was for one prisoner to kill another that was thought to be trying to escape. The state farms and the chain gangs held many in an era when hard labor was the punishment for those who ended up in prisons, some guilty of violent crimes, others lesser offenses that still violated the Jim Crow system. This include countless blues musicians who recorded dozens of songs that create a fascinating document of prisons in the 20s and 30s.

Further reading: Worse than Slavery: Parchman Farm and the Ordeal of Jim Crow Justice by David M. Oshinksy, Blues Fell this Morning: Meaning in the Blues (Goin' to take a rap chapter) by Paul Oliver.


Songs:
Judge Harsh Blues - Furry Lewis
Prison Blues - Alex
Tangle Eye Blues - Tangle Eye
Prison Cell Blues - Blind Lemon Jefferson
Prison Wall Blues - Gus Cannon
Ball and Chain Blues - Peg Leg Howell
Parchman Farm Blues - Bukka White

Show 29 - Dealing with the Law

Show 29 - Dealing with the Law

One of the most difficult thing about living in a discriminatory society is having the law work against you rather than to protect you. This situation for African-Americans in the Jim Crow era is well documented. Even lawyers of the time referred to an unwritten “negro law” that treated black men without regard to their rights. This was implemented at every level of justice from the police to the courthouse to the prisons and jails. Reminiscent of slavery times, black men and woman would need the protection of white man to avoid ending in trouble with local police. This protection would often be unavailable for someone living a blues lifestyle. A huge number of blues songs were recorded about dealing with the law.
Bo Carter expressed the trouble that can come from a black man having even a little alcohol in the age of prohibition in his 1931 song “The Law Gonna Step on You”:

I done told you to quit hounding liquor and gambling too
Look here baby you going too fast, the law's gonna step on your... yes, yes, yes

Now you can twist you can twist you can step on it's tail, you're gonna need someone to post your bail
Look here baby your going too fast, the law's gonna step on your... yes, yes, yes

Now you may think that they're doing you wrong, but they'll send you to the county farm
Look here baby your going to fast, the law's gonna step on your... yes, yes, yes

Now if you wanna leave from home and muck around with a bottle of corn
Look here baby you're traveling too fast, the law's gonna step on your... yes, yes, yes

Memphis musician Robert Wilkins recorded “Police Sergeant Blues” in 1930. The song equates trouble with his woman to trouble with the law. He describes the inevitability of a sentence once the police come for you.

I am going to tell the judge, I know that I done wrong
You go and get some lawyers to come and go my bond
I know the judge is going to give me thirty long days

Charley Patton liked to sing about events and characters in his native Mississippi. He recorded two songs about local sheriffs. The first, “Tom Rushen Blues” from 1929 described Patton's arrest by Merigold, Mississippi sheriff Tom Rushing. The second 1934's “High Sheriff Blues” told a similar story about an arrest in Belzoni and Patton's treatment at the hands of Humphreys County sheriff John Purvis and his deputy R. Carlos Webb:

Get in trouble at Belzoni, there ain't no use screamin' and cryin'
Get in trouble in Belzoni, there ain't no use-a screamin' and cryin'
Mr. Webb will take you, back to Belzoni jailhouse flyin'
Let me tell you folks, how he treated me
Let me tell you folks, how he treated me
And he put me in a cell, it was dark as it could be

There I laid one evening, Mr. Purvis was standing 'round
There I laid one evening, Mr. Purvis was standing 'round
Mr. Purvis told Mr. Webb to let poor Charley down

It takes booze and booze, Lord, to carry me through
Takes booze and booze, Lord, to carry me through
But it did seem like years in a jailhouse where there is no booze
I got up one morning, feeling oh
I got up one morning feeling mighty bad
And it must not a-been them Belzoni jail I had
(spoken: Blues I had, boys)
I was in trouble, ain't no use screaming
When I was in prison, it ain't no use screaming and crying
Mr. Purvis the onliest man could ease that pain of mine

In his song "Shelby County Workhouse Blues," Hambone Willie Newbern sang about the difficulties in court and the inability for a man like Newbern to make his case:

Well the lawyers talk so fast, didn't have time to say not nary word
Well the lawyer pleaded, and the judge he done wrote it down
Says I'll give you ten days buddy, out in little old Shelby town

Newbern represents the typical experience for a black man in court in the 20s or 30s, however there were a few lawyers that provided exceptions to the rule. Sleepy John Estes recorded a song about one lawyer who acted as a true advocate for his client.

But you know I like Mr Clark, yes he really is my friend
He say if I just stay out of the grave, he see that I won't go to the pen

Now Mr Clark is a lawyer, his younger brother is too
When the battles get hard, he tell him just what to do
I like Mr Clark, yes he is my friend
He say if I just stay out of the grave, he see that I won't go to the pen

Now he lawyers for the rich, he lawyers for the poor
He don't try to rob nobody; just bring along to the store
Now once I got in trouble, you know I was going to take a ride
He didn't let it reach the courthouse, he kept it on the outside
you know I like Mr Clark, yes he really is my friend
He say if I just stay out of the graveyard, Poor John I see you won't go to the pen

Now Mr Clark is a good lawyer, he good as I ever seen
He the first man that proved, that water run upstream

Blind Blake recorded a song about being thrown in jail and he wished someone would have told him "What a Low Down Place the Jailhouse Is." In the song, Blake was thrown in jail by a judge. Even worse than getting sent to jail for a few weeks was being sentenced to the state prison, Leroy Carr's “Prison Bound Blues” describes the feeling of knowing your headed to the penitentiary and losing the life you enjoyed.

Early one morning the blues came falling down
Early one morning the blues came falling down
All locked up in jail, I'm prison bound

All last night, I sat in my cell alone
All last night, I sat in my cell alone
Thinking of my baby and my happy home

Baby you will never see my smiling face again
Baby you will never see my smiling face again
But always remember your daddy has been your friend

Sometimes I wonder why don't your write to me
Sometimes I wonder why don't your write to me
If I've been a bad fellow, I did not intend to be
When I had my trial baby, you could not be found
When I had my trial baby, you could not be found
It's too late now mistreating mama, I'm prison bound.

The number of blues songs about police, lawyers, judges, jails, and prisons testifies to the difficulty of dealing with the law for those living a blues lifestyle. Though the stories of lynching and and murder are told frequently, its fortunate that we have these songs to help document the smaller problems with the law that African-Americans could have on a nearly daily basis in the Jim Crow South. These could include being thrown in jail without a second thought from a police officer and being sentenced without little more consideration from a judge. That's particularly true for those living an itinerant lifestyle like many bluesmen did.

Songs:
The Law is Gonna Step on You - Bo Carter
High Sheriff Blues - Charley Patton
Police Sergeant Blues - Robert Wilkins
Shelby County Workhouse Blues - Hambone Willie Newbern
Lawyer Clark Blues - Sleepy John Estes
What a Low Down Place the Jailhouse Is - Blind Blake
Prison Bound Blues - Leroy Carr