B. B. King came out of the linoleum floor flat Mississippi Delta decades and left his footprints across the American music landscape like few others. “The King of the Blues” and his legendary guitar Lucille made music that was as earthy as the land where he was born. A rhythm that drifted across the floor and through the wet, night air of countless juke joints and helped wash away the heartache and troubles of several generations
News that the 89-year-old legend passed away last night (May 14) saddens me on this Friday morning. And conjures up memories of a never-to-be-forgotten night in a Mississippi juke down a dirt road where another bluesman named King (Willie Earl) pulled at the strings of his guitar while feet shuffled on a well-worn floor and another beer bottle clanked into a garbage can.
Willie Earl left us several years ago. And now B. B.