HOODOO REVIEW - August, 2003 - by “Hoodoo” Jimmy Simpson This may be a bit of a different kind of story this month, but one that means a lot to me. I hope it will touch everybody just a little bit.

My band Redd Skyy played a big concert in Memphis for the 4th of July. We had brought Matthew Schlenker, photographer, along with us on this trip to shoot the cover of our second CD, "Naked In Memphis".

Saturday morning dawned way too early after a long and wild Friday night performance in Memphis. A quick trip to Starbuck's and we were off to location number one for the photo shoot. Downtown Memphis is filled with buildings of character, one of these being the "Memphis Plating Works" on Madison Avenue. We arrived here early enough to still catch a morning sun, and proceeded to set up for the pictures.

My yet somewhat foggy gaze quickly focused across the street to a vacant lot filled with seeming years of trash. In the midst of this artsy surreal garbage dump I noticed movement. Matthew was still setting his cameras and getting angles, so I ventured across the street to take a closer look. Almost perfectly blended with the rusty barrels, fenders and torn metal was almost a ghost of a dog. For a moment we both stood motionless, sizing each other up. He was a tall dog, a mix of butterscotch and chocolate. His teeth showed fully, as if he was snarling, but that wasn't the case at all. His face was grossly disfigured from what must have been a valiant fight with an automobile. Half his snout was gone, showing his bare teeth on one side. How he even managed to heal from such an accident, and obviously without the assistance of a veterinarian is beyond me. And yet he did, and this morning he stood bravely in front of me.

His ghostly appearance came from untold days and nights with nothing to eat. We gazed at each other, and somehow we made acquaintance. I walked back across the street and delved into several dumpsters, looking for some small bits of food for my new friend. I found a bit of uneaten cheeseburger and graciously offered its sustenance, which was graciously accepted.

We eventually got the photos shot and headed for a second location further downtown Memphis. While at this location by the trolleys, I found a hot dog stand open, and bought several franks. One was for myself and the others for my friend up the street. As soon as we finished shooting the pictures I drove back up Madison Avenue to the vacant lot, bearing my small gifts of food. I looked everywhere, called out for a dog with no name, and sat down on a broken cement culvert. Again I looked under, behind and around every piece of junk, I walked two blocks in each direction, but nowhere could I find this noble creature. I waited another half hour, slowly eating the hot dogs, thinking I'd gladly get more if he came back.

It took a while, but sitting in the noon heat of a desolate pile of garbage, I realized that I knew this dog, and knew him well.

Only a couple weeks before, my daughter Jody and her fiancé Justin had come from Colorado to visit us. Jody is my youngest daughter, and is becoming a Veterinarian at Colorado State University. As is the nature of my daughter and future son in law, they brought their beloved pets with them on the trip to Baton Rouge. Two days before they had to leave for Colorado, their beautiful and beloved dog, Cain, managed to wiggle through a small hole in my fence. Cain romped his way up to Coursey Blvd, and in his blissful short-lived "freedom", was hit severely by a car. Jody was out searching for her dog, and found him lying in the road, badly broken.

Through her own tears and shock she cradled Cain and both kids drove him to the Vet Clinic where they had both worked while living in Baton Rouge. To Dr. Alfred Steven's credit, he dropped everything and gave his full attention to Cain. There could not have been more love shared between a human and a dog during those hours, and the last tears were those of goodbye, as Cain left us.

I don't know if everyone, or maybe just dogs, pass through Memphis on their journeys to the unknown. I do know that I had the privilege of sharing an unexpected moment with an old friend.

Thanks for listening, and as always send your comments, questions and berations to: hoodoojimmy@cox.net