Hi Everyone,
I am so excited to have our first post in the “Hello From…” series ready for you! A friend of mine, using an alias so he feels comfortable to write about his full experience, has submitted an article below about a trip he made to the Mississippi Delta. When I sat down with him to discuss the article, he just couldn’t get over how lovely the people he met down there were, how fantastic the hospitality was and how much they didn’t want to end up like another stereotypical meme on Buzzfeed. I think he did a really great job conveying the nuances of the region and I really think you’ll enjoy his piece. Check out his full piece below.
Happy Travels,
Savannah

Hello From the Mississippi Delta
Keith Seaver
“Everybody smokes weed, everybody has a gun, and everybody drinks in the daytime”
“How far is it to Greenwood?” I ask the affable bartender who has insisted I call her ‘Grits’. “About three beers” is the reply. “Come again?” I say, “Oh yeah, that’s how we measure distance around here. You know it’s legal to drink and drive as long as you stay under the .08 limit. Cops can’t do nothing about it.” Wonderful, I think. A chance to die doing a thing I love – taking advantage of lax local alcohol laws. I’m at The Blue Biscuit in Indianola, Mississippi, the hometown of B.B. King. At the bar with me are Tommy, a large white catfish farmer in a fishing shirt and camo hat drinking Makers Mark. Phil, a twenty-something transplant from Pittsburgh, fresh out of college on a Teach for America Program, and Reggie, an older black man who grew up in Indianola, moved to Chicago in his teens; and just moved back to retire. We have to get to the next town over to make a dinner reservation; but these people are so damn friendly, and the conversations so wonderfully nonlinear – as they always are in the south – that it’s a hard scene to leave.
We have a big, diverse, beautiful country; and we are divided. After the 2016 election, it feels like half of the friendships in America are under some kind of strain. Travel is something that broadens the mind, so I decided to leave New York City for a long weekend and hit “the most southern place on earth” – the Mississippi Delta. Mississippi is nothing like the other 49 American States. And the Mississippi Delta is nothing like the rest of Mississippi. Growing up in a middle-class home in “the north” I definitely grew up with a sense of superiority when it comes to the south. However, a love of blues music connected me to Mississippians who lived out of state, and I had wanted to visit for a while.
The Mississippi Delta exists on some 7,000 Square Miles of alluvial floodplain that stretches from just south of the Memphis suburbs to the city of Vicksburg. A boom in the cotton market lead to the rise of the Delta. As someone who works on Wall Street, there’s a bit of shared history – and much of it is ugly. The population contains people of many different ethnic groups – in addition to the Scots-Irish and African Americans that populate much of Mississippi, the Delta contains large populations of Eastern European Ashkenazic Jews, Italians and Lebanese. This is reflected in the local cuisine, which is generally excellent. On the business side of things, the soil here is some of the most fertile in the world. Even today, Delta farmland is a great investment if you can get any. But this is also among the poorest regions of the country; racial tensions are present; many problems have not been resolved, and there is still much work to be done. That being said, a visit here can be enriching. I’m pretty sure I came back to NYC with 10 friend requests from Mississippi Deltans; and that was just over a weekend.
Clarksdale is the most prominent blues tourism destination in the Delta. Being the hometown of Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Son House and many other musicians, it’s easy to see why. There are beautiful murals of blues legends all over this town. Tamales are a regional food specialty of the Delta. We pull up to Larry’s Tamales –inside a repurposed Quizno’s sub shop – and a 6 foot 3 gentleman greets us with “Have you ever had Tamales in this area before?”, then proceeds to educate all of us about their history. They were brought by Mexican farm labor in the 1920s, and even feature in a Robert Johnson song (“They’re Red Hot”) from the 30s. Unlike Mexican tamales, these are long, thin, filled with ground beef and cooked in a form of hot sauce. They are delicious, and unlike anything I’ve ever tried before. Larry grew up in Clarksdale, joined the navy to see the world; worked a desk job for the military in DC for a few years, then moved back down. The Delta is definitely a place to which people are eager to return.
Cat Head Folk Art in downtown Clarksdale is a great stop if you’re looking for rare blues recordings, or books about the Delta. Scott, the owner, moved from Ohio to the area and is a wealth of information about rare blues recordings and goings-on around town. There are two blues clubs in Clarksdale that merit attention. Very different places, they serve as good metaphors for the state of blues music today. Owned by Morgan Freeman, Ground Zero Blues Club on the main drag of town is polished; but intentionally looks faded. They do live blues nightly. It’s also a great place to stay – $130 per night gets you a tidy loft upstairs, so visitors don’t have to risk a drunk drive home. Cross the railway tracks on Sunflower Avenue and head to Red’s Lounge; you will be in for a much grittier experience. They sell beer for $3 from a cooler and that’s it. You can, however, bring wine or hard liquor; I recommend hard liquor. Red Paden is the owner here. Perpetually wearing his sunglasses, he’s quick with a comeback or a snappy remark; and will insult the whiskey you brought if it isn’t any good. Examples of local artists who regularly play both clubs are Lucious Spiller, Leo Bud Welch, Deak Harp and Bill “Howl-n-Madd” Perry. Different as they may be, Red’s and Ground Zero both are fantastic establishments, and it would serve visitors well to catch a live show at each place.
It’s 11:30 at Red’s in Clarksdale. I’m halfway through the bottle of “Old Charter 8” that I brought in. I offered some to Red; but he said it’s not good enough for him to drink. Distilled in Kentucky, but strangely popular in the Delta, it used to be called “Old Charter 8 year”. Back then, it was actually aged 8 years; but recently they have changed the packaging to just read the number “8”. This amounted to a minor scandal in the Delta, and everybody asks me if I know anyone who can track down the “8 year” variety. Hey, I’m feeling pretty good. Pretty mellow. Some folks in the back are smoking weed (all indica in these parts, I’m told. The kind that makes you collapse into your couch), and everyone seems to be pretty happy. THIS is red state America?
I take another pull from my bottle of Old Charter…WHAM. Everything around me changes. The carhartt jackets and camo pants around me turn into blue blazers and khakis. It’s 1AM in 2011 and I’m at Dorrian’s Red Hand on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. A DJ is spinning some 80s new wave music, and “Money For Nothing” by the Dire Straits just came on. My friend Todd Alden, the 21 year old scion of one of New York’s formerly powerful old money families has just broken a glass on the dance floor. People scatter. The staff immediately rush toward him, clean up the glass…and hand him another drink. On the house. Todd approaches me and yells to the bartender “Three shots of Makers Mark!” One for each of us, one for the staff who cleaned up the floor. “Take a shot you filthy animal!” he yells at me. Then he looks me in the eyes for a toast. Smiling, he says to me “May this be our worst moment.” Everyone is happy. Whoa. What a memory. At the end of the day, we’re all just looking for a good drink in a dark bar with lively music.
B.B. King was born on a plantation just outside of Indianola, and the town has a wonderful museum commemorating his life. As a native of New York City, it was crazy imagining B.B.’s life. I mean, can you imagine growing up in in a place like Indianola? And going to Memphis for the first time, seeing all the lights of Beale Street? He must have thought it was like Paris! Imagine if he popped into the lobby of the Peabody Hotel, it would be like nothing he had ever seen. Going to that museum not only taught me about the incredible life of B.B. King; but helped me understand life in the Delta as a whole better. Down the street is Club Ebony, part of the “Chitlin Circuit” of nightclubs where black entertainers were allowed to perform during the Jim Crow days. In addition to BB, many other blues legends performed there. When I visited the Delta, Club Ebony was closed, opening only on special occasions, and Harlon from The Blue Biscuit had to call to get me a private tour. However, it is now open for live blues every Thursday night. It’s great to see the people of the Delta preserving this historic club and keeping history alive.
You’ve GOT to hand it to Senator Thad Cochran. 39 years representing Mississippi! And the man knows how to bring home the proverbial bacon – for every dollar Mississippi gives to the federal government, they get $12 back. Of course, that stat may not be accurate. It’s being told to me by a chainsmoking 30-something man at The Pickled Okra in Cleveland, MS. I may not agree with Cochran’s views, but I respect the hustle. In the northeast, we cast a jaundiced eye to most of our politicians. Sure, I liked Mayor Bloomberg, but i’d never openly praise him while drunk in a bar. Although that was just the views of one constituent; it was very interesting to hear.
A dinner at Luscos in Greenwood, Mississippi is an experience not to be missed. Like Red’s, it’s BYOB for wine or hard liquor. Make sure to call ahead and reserve a booth. This is not a booth in the traditional sense; but rather an entire private room where you will be left alone unless you summon your server with a buzzer. Locals tell me that all sorts of illicit activities have gone on in those booths – drugs, sex, gambling and more over the years. Why this setup? Well, prohibition existed in Mississippi until 1966! It’s the funniest place. The restaurant is very old, even run down in parts. However, just about all the patrons are impeccably dressed in a manner not unlike that of a 1960s New England boarding school. It’s a LOUD place, and our waiter told me that almost everyone is a regular. He’s an interesting character himself. A jovial man in his forties, who speaks glowingly of Donald Trump, he invited us to call into a local blues radio station that his buddy runs after our dinner. The house specialty is whole grilled pompano fish – a fish that goes under the radar in NYC, but is absolutely brilliant here. Seriously. I’ve dined at Michelin-starred restaurants in NYC and in Europe; and this is in the top ten meals of my life. Owing to the Italian influence, they also do a nice bowl of pasta. Despite the clubby atmosphere and regulars who had been dining there for generations, the hospitality shown to us was impeccable.
Back at the Blue Biscuit in Indianola for a post-dinner whiskey, we are joined by two duck hunters from Alabama. I did a fair bit of hunting myself in my college days, so the conversation flows effortlessly. One of the hunters, Will, tells me his life story. He’s an executive at a multinational in Huntsville and has travelled to most corners of the world both for business and pleasure. He’s read over 50 books on the Mississippi Delta and its culture and is fascinated by it. “The culture here just gets weirder and weirder, more and more fascinating the more you explore it.” He regaled us with stories of private, members only country clubs where the whiskey-soaked plantation gentry drive cars up mountains. He told us about “Admirals’ Night”, a tradition at bars where strippers are brought down from Memphis to walk among patrons – not even do any dancing – for a $15 cover. Despite having visited Japan, Argentina, Australia and many other countries, the Mississippi Delta is Will’s favorite place on earth. All things said, it is a fascinating, enchanting place that gave rise to one of our nation’s great art forms – the blues. It is definitely somewhere I will visit several more times over the next decade. I highly recommend a trip to the Delta for anyone.










