At the Crossroads

 

At the Crossroads

There is a stirring in my soul when I make my way down south. The land of my

ancestors. To me, it is a place of legend and lore, a place where Pentecostal snake

handlers and faith healers, will tread the same ground as voodoo and hoodoo

practitioners, what we would call “Old Time Religion”, and a place where Will O’ the

Wisps and demons roamed free and you can even meet the devil…at the crossroads. I

want to tell you a folktale, or perhaps it’s more?

Robert Johnson was an unknown in the eyes of musicians that played the juke joints

of the Delta. According to acclaimed blues man Son House, he heard Johnson play in

1930 in Robbinsville, MS. He related how Robert played and blew the harmonica and he was pretty

good with that, but he wanted to play guitar.” He then related that when Robert tried to

play the guitar, he was absolutely awful, “…such a racket you never heard!…get that

guitar away from that boy” Of course, Robert was downtrodden. And in some legends,

he disappeared, and that’s where the story gets interesting.

Robert Johnson found himself wandering aimlessly. One night, he found himself

walking in the light of the moon and he came across a crossroad. A man came to the

crossroad from a different direction than Robert and the only description of that man

was “strange.” According to the folklore, the stranger took Robert’s guitar and started

playing it and after a couple of songs he returned it to the owner. The musical covenant

was over. In 1932, Robert Johnson took to the stage, and he was a different man

altogether. He played the guitar like he was born to it and had a bluesy voice that was

almost supernatural. It was then that some people started to tell how Robert Johnson

must have sold his soul to the devil to sound so good. Like his own life, his death

became a mystery. According to one account, he was playing a juke joint at the Three

Forks Store near Greenwood, MS where he was poisoned by one of his many lady

friends, or perhaps he was murdered by the store’s owner, thinking that Johnson was

too friendly with his wife. Even the place of burial for Johnson is up to debate, for there

are three different tombstones in three different cemeteries.

Who was the strange man that he met at the crossroads? Some say it was Ol’ Scratch

or Satan himself that made the deal with Johnson. Honestly, that’s lazy storytelling. If

there is a deal to be had, it’s with the devil. But perhaps we should dig deeper into the

story and the place where it supposedly happened and when it occurred. Could it be

Satan? Or perhaps it was Papa Legba or Yoruba Eshu. Legba, is an orisha, a divine

spirit of the Yoruba region of West Africa. He is a trickster god, and he is usually seen at

the crossroads to show his duality. He is also the gatekeeper that allows humanity to

communicate with the divine and the dead.

I would like to think that it was Papa Legba that Robert Johnson met at the crossroads

and it was he that he made the deal with. Divine inspiration verses cosmic karma.

Johnson made his mark in the world as one of the best blues players in existence but

there was a price to be paid. Robert Johnson became the founding member of the

infamous 27 club upon his death. For those who don’t know, the 27 Club is club of

musicians that have died prematurely, either by suicide or other nefarious deeds. The

27 Club went into the limelight with the tragic death of Kurt Cobain and Amy

Winehouse. But most don’t realize that Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison are

also on this unfortunate list. Perhaps they made their own deal.

There is another kink in the story of the famous meeting at the crossroads, that of

Tommy Johnson. The story of Tommy Johnson runs parallel with Robert. Tommy meets

a stranger at the crossroads and then becomes a blues legend, but the similarity stops

there. Tommy died at the age of 60, having a heart attack while playing at a party. The

story about the crossroads wasn’t attributed to Tommy until 1971 when his brother,

LaDell Johnson, told the story to an author by the name of David Evans that was doing

a biography of the famous bluesman. This confusion is only cemented by the movie O

Brother, Where Art Thou by the Coen brothers in 2000. In the movie, the protagonists

meet a guitar player at the crossroads, and he gives his name as Tommy Johnson.

Whether you believe the story about Robert Johnson meeting the stranger at the

crossroads or chalk it up as American folklore, there is something to be said about the

crossroads as an archetype and a place of mythological significance. I have made a

study of the symbology of the crossroads, and I came across a definition that suits it

perfectly:

The Crossroads is the silent, humming pause before the story turns. It is the moment

when all futures are simultaneously possible and impossible, held in the fragile

suspense of a single decision. This archetype represents not just the choice itself, but

the sacred space of potential that precedes it.