Eating a pastry and enjoying a beverage, that surely contained some mix of espresso and steamed milk, a song started playing on the patio of a coffee shop in Norman, OK. The song was familiar, but this time sounded more beautiful than before. I had to find out who the artist was and what else he had done. The artist was Jeff Buckley. The song was Hallelujah. A man crush followed, as he became one of my favorite musicians.
In May of 1997 Jeff Buckley went for a swim in Wolf River Harbor, a slackwater channel
of the Mississippi River, in Memphis, TN. He drowned at the young age of 30. For years I wanted to make the 8 hour drive from OKC to Memphis to visit the location. Inevitably, I would talk myself out of it thinking, “You want to drive 8 hours to look at a river and listen to some songs? Crazy.” Fortunately, the move to the East Coast provided the perfect opportunity. I-40 E would take me directly through Memphis.
A large sign welcomed me to Tennessee as a huge bridge set me down safely on the other side of the Mississippi River. Led by plenty of research and map memorizing, I found my way to Mud Island. It rested between the Mississippi to the west, and Wolf River to the east. While walking towards the mouth of the Wolf River, I found myself more confused than anything else. The romanticized ideas that were in my mind did not align with the rows of condos that stretched behind me, or the small yacht club that floated in front of me. As I walked along the banks my thoughts were anything but focused. I wonder where he entered the water. Why would he choose this built-up area to swim? Was this island under water from the May floods? I think that I am getting a sunburn. Confused and unsatisfied, I decided to find my way back to I-40.
Crossing the bridge from Mud Island, over Wolf River and back to downtown Memphis, I took one last glance at the skyline. There it was! Why had I not seen it before? I parked in an abandoned parking lot at the base of the bridge before quickly continuing back up the steep incline on foot. At the peak, high above river, I stopped. Pouring with sweat, I couldn’t help but smile. It was perfect. To the left the Memphis skyline stretched down the shoreline. Below, the Wolf River flowed to open into the Mississippi downstream. To the right, the island. An island, that until over a decade after his death, was not covered with condos or surrounded by docks. I tried to picture it as it was in 1997. Condos, gone. Yacht club, gone. Just a nice, calm island with a great view of downtown just beyond the tributary. It made perfect sense. This is what I stopped for. Satisfied, I said my last goodbye and made my way back down the bridge.
Full circle: As I was writing this post in a spiral notebook, sitting in a bagel/coffee shop in Durham, NC, who comes to revisit? Jeff Buckley, singing Lilac Wine quietly over the speakers. It was nice seeing you too Jeff.
