As most of you know, my birth place was in a suburb of St. Louis which was seven miles west of the Mississippi River. I am aware that from time to time, the Mississippi has overflowed its banks and has caused considerable harm to the surrounding territories. I remember a flood in 1937 which resulted in an extension of the levee at St. Louis.
But as I dictate these lines, impending disaster looms on the banks of the Mississippi. The problem is south of St. Louis and Memphis. I believe a look at geography will show that the Ohio River, as well as many others, empties into the Mississippi at Cairo, Illinois. News forecasts tell us that there has been an undue amount of rain along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. There is also the fact of the spring thaws along the upper Mississippi have contributed to the problem. The net result is that on towns and farms from Memphis on south to New Orleans, the Mississippi will become a roaring flood in the next few days.
A good many farmers in Arkansas, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Louisiana are threatened to be wiped out in the floods that are predicted along the big river. At heart, I am a farmer as well. I grieve for their loss as the wall of water goes by on the Mississippi. It is quite likely that a period of two or three years will pass before they can recover.
A typical farmer on the Mississippi Delta was interviewed by a television journalist the other day. He was quiet and resigned as he said that his granddaddy and his daddy had farmed this rich soil for generations. But when the Mississippi River overflows, there is nothing to stop its encroachment.
Obviously I am in a helpless position to do anything about the farmers along the banks of the Mississippi. I grieve for them nonetheless.
As I think about the poor people, particularly the farmers, along the route of the Mississippi, a song keeps buzzing in my head called the “Beale Street Blues.” Those of us who trace our roots to the Mississippi take comfort from blues songs. The song that has occupied my brain for a day or so is a blues song. It was written perhaps a hundred years ago by W.C. Handy, the legendary composer of blues music. For reasons unknown to me, the lines that are sticking in my head come from the “Beale Street Blues.”
Those of you who are acquainted with blues music will remember that Beale Street, a main thoroughfare in Memphis, was the main source of entertainment in that city. It offered a free-wheeling style of living. Again I say that I do not know why this song came to me at this time when there is impending doom in the lower Mississippi River basin. But the lines are as follows:
If Beale Street could talk,
If Beale Street could talk,
Married men would have to take up their beds and walk
Except for the few who never drink booze
And the blind man on the corner singing the Beale Street blues.
Don’t ask a poor old broken-down essay writer about why these lines occur to him at this particular time of impending doom. But now that these lines have been dictated, I tend to feel better and I like that line about married men having to take their beds and walk. I suspect that if one searched far enough, those lines may have come from the Bible. I will not worry about the Biblical connections. I will simply enjoy the song about “If Beale Street could talk” and I like the line about “Except for the few who never drink booze, And the blind man on the corner singing the Beale Street blues.”
Now that I feel a bit better, I will watch the weather reports for life on the Mississippi. We hope that it returns to normal before much more time passes.
E. E. CARR
May 13, 2011
Essay 550
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Kevin’s commentary: You can check out the wikipedia entry on the floods here. They were indeed terrible. I wish I could have read this essay closer to its real publication date, as I don’t remember this happening at all. I suspect that this sentiment will be a familiar one as I work back in time across Ezra’s Essays.
On a cheerier note, it’s 2013! Hope everyone had an excellent first day of the New Year.