The Shack Up Inn: At home in Clarksdale, MS

Social obligations see me once again deep in the Mississippi Delta from Friday to Sunday. Like her great grandmother’s before, my oldest made her debut with 19 wonderful young ladies from all around the MS Delta. This was yet another first for me in my journey to discover more about my MS roots. Being off for the Christmas break, I decided to extend my time in the Delta. I head further in where I plan to meet some friends from New York - at the Shack Up Inn, just inside of Clarksdale. I sit here writing and listening to Lightning Malcolm play to a small group of local fans and tourists happy to have the treat on a rainy Sunday in the Delta. A rainy Sunday in the Delta needs its own story.

Clarksdale is considered by many to be ground zero for the Blues. Hence, Morgan Freeman’s juke joint by the same name in the town center. So, I think it’s the safest place to plant some New Yorkers for New Year’s Eve. It’s still catches me off guard to hear international accents in the Delta,the Most Southern Place on Earth (see earlier blog posts), but Clarksdale keeps bringing in a steady stream of tourists to the otherwise forgotten farmlands. The shared library in the lobby -testament to the international crowd passing through and leaving their literary marks.

At first, Clarksdale looks like most other worn Delta towns, but if you know where to go, or who to call, you can find an Americana Scene Disney couldn’t make up – and no one is selling this better than the Shack Up Inn. We have an old family farm just an hour south in Minter City but it’s hunting season and my 5 brothers have it well occupied according to the farm calendar. I’m happy to see it so enjoyed and gladly take the opportunity to continue exploring other parts the Delta a bit more.

I want this truck so bad I can't stand it!

This is the fourth time I’ve stayed at the Shack Up but I never come to the Delta without checking out the new additions they’ve added to the lodging optons. The Shack moves all kinds of old structures from the Delta to the old Hopson Plantation, making them into lodgings. They also have a full service bar, quirky gift shop, and main stage which has regular musicians usually cranking out some slidy tunes. Tonight I’m in a refurbished grain bin, Grand Bin D. As always, I’m amazed at what their imaginations do with all this forgotten debris. A beautiful staircase of refurbished wood winds around the rounded edges of the bin up to the top floor bedroom that looks down onto chairs and lamps anyone would have tossed out 50 years ago. I have no idea what most of it used to be, parts of stuff mainly?. Everything takes repurposing to a new level.

Tomorrow I’m moving over to the three-bedroom house next door, the Rich House, just to see something new. All of this makes me wonder how many possible “art projects” I’ve thrown away. I’m determined to look more closely at everything going into the dumpster at our school farm where we have been cleaning up years of broken tools and equipment. This comment makes my colleague, who teaches welding and construction, cringe I’m certain. Sorry Luke!

While writing in the hotel lobby/stage/bar/lounge? a steady parade of musicians and gentry carry luggage into one of the unique lodgings, where I am sure they will have my same experience, some mixture of nostalgia, curiosity and calm. No one comes here by accident. They are looking for this.

The rain lets up a bit and I step outside to enjoy the sunset. After hours of rain, the other guests and musicians also step out onto the large covered porch where we all introduce ourselves and freely share stories about what brings us here today. Some of the locals know people I know in Greenwood or from earlier excursions around the area. The musicians talk about their recent trip to Europe playing the Blues and discuss their return trip coming up. There is a lot of appreciation for what they are doing and I'm sure it's a blast for them to be so well received over there. They are here rehearsing and I realize what a circumstantial treat this is. Although I came alone, I don't feel alone here. Still, a place this special makes you want to share. I can’t help to think about a few people back home that I would love to share this with. Particularly my sister, who calls just as I start to wrap up my projects and head back to my grain bin for a quiet glass of wine.