The Legend of Robert Johnson

When Robert Johnson got through playing, all our mouths was open. He sold his soul to the devil to get to play like that.

-- Son House

Robert Leroy Johnson, the illegitimate son of Julia Majors Dodds and Noah Johnson, recorded eleven 78-rpm records during his brief lifetime. He rose from being a poor farmer to the man believed by many to be the greatest primitive blues singer of all times. He was, in fact, the most influential traditional blues musician who ever lived, credited by industry giants like Eric Clapton and John Melloncamp as being the man most responsible for making popular music what it is today. He holds the title King of the Delta Blues, but the mysteries surrounding his life and death have never been resolved.

Robert Johnson was born May 8, 1911 in Hazlehurst, Mississippi. He became interested in music in his early teens, first playing the harmonica with his childhood friend R. L. Windum.

By the late 1920s, the guitar had become Roberts instrument of choice. Local bluesman Willie Brown took an interest in the youngster, showing him basic chords and offering encouragement.

Robert performed whenever he had opportunity, usually for free, and made his scant living farming.

In February 1929, he married Virginia Travis in Penton, Mississippi. The couple moved into the home with Roberts half-sister, Bessie Hines, and her husband, Granville, on the Kline plantation east of Robinsonville.
Their happiness was short-lived. Tragedy struck in April 1930 when both Virginia and their baby died in childbirth. Virginias death was the turning point in Roberts life. It left him heartbroken and bitter, and he blamed God for his loss. Music was his only comfort, and when Son House came to Robinsonville at Browns invitation, Robert found his idol. Son House was a charismatic musician and evangelist, his performances raw and emotional, and he made a deep impression on the boy.

By then young Robert could play harp reasonably well, but when he tried to play the guitar, House would tell him, Dont do that, Robert. You drive people nuts. You cant play nothin. Little did he know what lie ahead.

Robert determined to be a star, and he devoted all his efforts to making his dream come true.

Restlessness claimed him, and it was not long until he decided to go back to Hazlehurst to try to locate his father, whom he had never known. Robert was unsuccessful in finding Noah Johnson, but he did meet a man there who was to have an even greater influence than Son House upon his career.

The Depression was at its peak, but the government Works Progress Administration program offered employment, and on Saturday nights at the juke joints and lumber camps, money flowed freely. Here Robert fell under the spell of talented musician Ike Zinnerman.

Little is known about Mr. Zinnerman other than that he was born in Grandy, Alabama in the early 1900s and is said to have learned to play guitar sitting atop tombstones at night in old country churchyards. He became Roberts mentor and greatest influence. Robert would often go off into the woods alone to practice and perfect what Ike had taught him.

On Saturdays, Robert performed free for the public on the steps of the county courthouse, and on Saturday nights, he played the juke joints for drinks and tips usually in the company of Zimmerman or other local favorites.

In May 1931, in Copiah County, Mississippi, Robert married a kind and loving older woman, Calletta Callie Craft. Callie adored Robert, but soon restlessness and rambling fever took him away.

Then his life changed forever. Dissatisfied with his meager musical abilities, heartsick over the loss of his first wife and their child and bitter towards God, the legend goes that Robert struck a bargain.

In folklore, the deity Esu is guardian of the crossroads, an intermediate between gods and humans. In witchcraft and voodoo, crossroads are places of concentrated power and energy where black magic is practiced. In the Deep South, in places like rural Mississippi, it is a commonly held superstition that under the right conditions, one can not only find the devil at a crossroads, but can also bargain with him for ones soul.

Fellow Mississippi blues musician Tommy Johnson (no relation) once said, If you want to learn how to play anything you want to play and learn how to make songs yourself, you take your guitar and you go to where a road crosses that way, where a crossroad is. Get there, be sure to get there just a little 'fore 12:00 that night so you'll know you'll be there. You have your guitar and be playing a piece there by yourself.... A big black man will walk up there and take your guitar, and he'll tune it. And then he'll play a piece and hand it back to you. That's the way I learned to play anything I want."

(LeDell Johnson, as quoted in Searching for Robert Johnson by Peter Guralnick)

According to the story, one dark moonless night Robert walked down to the crossroads of Highways 61 and 49 in Clarksdale, MS. Just at the stroke of midnight, the devil appeared. There in that in that unholy place, He tuned Robert Johnsons guitar in exchange for his immortal soul. Robert would have the fame he longed for, but the devil would have his due.

When Robert returned to Robinsonville to see his friends and family, Willie Brown and Son House, Roberts former mentors, were amazed at his newfound ability. He could not only play better than either of them could; he captivated audiences and drew fans from all across the South to hear him perform. He sold his soul to the devil to get to play like that, Son House said.

Roberts strange behavior on stage fueled dark rumors. He would turn away from the audience while playing as if to hide his method from viewers, and often he would leave without explanation in the middle of a performance. Fans claimed he had the evil eye.

In addition, Robert had the unusual talent of being able to hear a song once, whether on radio, a recording or in a live performance, and afterward be able to play it perfectly. He could even be carrying on a conversation with others while the song played in the background, never stop talking, and later recall the song word for word and note for note. Some said he never had to practice that when he wanted to add new material to his act, he knew it already.

His first recording session was in San Antonio, Texas, November 23, 1936. Among the songs he recorded that day was Terraplane Blues, which was his biggest hit.

Other songs he wrote and recorded that were tremendously successful include Sweet Home Chicago and Im a Steady Rollin Man, which well described Roberts situation. Although he had found the fame he sought, he never found peace of mind. As time went on, he grew more restless, ready to travel at a moments notice whether day or night. He didnt seem to care where he went as long as he was on the move.

The rumor that Johnson had sold his soul to the devil continued to spread, and rather than deny the accusation, Robert wrote songs that seemed to confirm it. Hellhound on My Trail, Me and the Devil Blues and Crossroads Blues hinted at his unholy bargain.

Robert settled in Helena, Arkansas during the last years of his life with a woman named Estella Coleman. He developed a close relationship with Ms. Colemans son, Robert Lockwood, Jr., who had great natural musical ability, and taught the boy everything he knew.

Robert had always been a ladies man, and while his inclinations had resulted in a number of minor scraps, he had been able to avoid serious trouble from jealous lovers and husbands. However, in the summer of 1938, his luck ran out.

Just out of Greenwood, at the intersection of Highways 82 and 49 east, stood a little juke joint known as Three Forks. Robert, along with Honeyboy Edwards, had been playing at the joint on Saturday nights for several weeks, and Robert had rekindled a past romance with a woman there. The problem, which Robert may or may not have been aware of, was that the woman was now married to the man who ran the joint.

On one hot night in July, the trouble came to a head. That night in addition to Robert and Honeyboy Edwards, popular blues harmonica player Sonny Boy Williamson made an appearance at the roadhouse. Spirits were high and as the evening wore on, Robert turned his attention to the woman. His actions did not go unnoticed.

During a break, someone brought Robert an open half-pint of whisky. Sonny Boy Williamson, who had noticed the growing agitation of the womans husband, knocked the bottle from Roberts hand before he could drink. Man, dont ever take a drink from an open bottle, Sonny Boy told him. You dont know what could be in it.

Sonny Boys intervention angered Robert, and a short time later, when a second open bottle arrived, Robert drank it down.

He was soon too sick to sing. He stopped in the middle of a song and went outside. He was out of his mind with pain. Sonny Boy Williamson thought he had been poisoned with strychnine.

Robert lived for several weeks, and it is said that in his final hours, he crawled on all fours and barked like a dog in his pain. He died on Tuesday, August 16, 1938, without a doctor, at the home of a relative on the Star of the West plantation. Robert Johnson was twenty-seven-years-old.

His death certificate tells the sad story of his fate. He died without an attending physician and was buried by his family, not an undertaker, in a plain pine coffin furnished by the county. But here the story takes a bizarre twist. Records show that he was buried at Little Zion cemetery, but there are two Little Zion cemeteries nearby. Most accounts say he was originally buried the graveyard of Little Zion Missionary Baptist church just north of Greenwood, and his body soon moved elsewhere. In fact, Robert Johnson has not one grave but three, all within a half hours drive of Greenwood, all marked by headstones and all purported to be real.

A simple monument was erected at his grave in the Little Zion churchyard in 2001. Unlike the tombs at the other two sites, the inscription on this stone makes no reference to the blues.

At Mount Zion church near Morgan City, an obelisk donated by Sony/Columbia Records and the Mt. Zion church fund marks his grave. On one side, the tomb bears a quotation from "Me and the Devil Blues:" "You may bury my body down by the highway side." The side of the monument facing the church has a photograph of Johnson, and the inscription, "His music struck a chord that continues to resonate. His blues addressed generations he would never know and made poetry of his visions and fears."

Roberts third grave is at Paynes Chapel, near Quito. The modest church sits on a little hill down a narrow dirt road. Etched in the simple flat granite stone at this gravesite are the words: Robert Johnson, May 8, 1911 - August 16, 1938. Resting in the Blues. Like the other places, flowers, guitar picks and quarters for the tip jar adorn the tomb.

It is a peaceful spot, quiet and well kept, probably the most visited site of the three. Perhaps Robert does rest here, if his soul has found rest at last, but the wind soughing through the trees whispers warnings: The devils debts are not easily repaid.

If Robert Johnson did sell his soul for fame, the first payment was his life and that came due before the fruits he bought had reached full flower.

During his lifetime, the blues was considered African-American music and was seldom heard outside black communities. Roberts songs bridged the gap to popular music and gained the larger audience it enjoys today, but not until well after his death.

The devils final payment may yet to be paid. Though Robert Johnson is gone, at least one of his songs still bears the stain. Crossroads Blues, which has been re-recorded by hundreds of artists, is reputed to carry a curse that has brought tragedy to many who have performed it. Eric Clapton, Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers Band, who all lost group members or loved ones after adding the song to their routine, are but a few of those touched by its shadow.

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Early this mornin

When you knocked upon my door,

Early this mornin, ooh,

When you knocked upon my door

And I said, Hello Satan,

I believe its time to go.

-- Robert Johnson

Me and the Devil Blues

Copyright (1978), 1990, 1991 Lehsem II, LLC/Claude L. Johnson

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Sources:

The Ghosts of Mississippi by Shannon Riley, Surreal Magazine, 2005

Searching for Robert Johnson by Peter Guralnick copyright 1982, 1989

Robert Johnson Blues Foundation, http://www.robertjohnsonbluesfoundation.org/Bio.html

Robert Johnson, The Complete Recordings, Columbia, CBS Records, Inc, 1990

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