Working as reporters in 1978 in Greenville, Mississippi, David Saltz and I jumped on a last-minute media invite to see B.B. King at a small music joint near Indianola, B.B.’s hometown.
Having worn down B.B.’s album Live In Cook County Jail since high school, I was wide-eyed as we were led through the crowd to a table in front of the stage, where an ABC Radio reporter had already set up his recorder.
We tried to maintain our objective reporter demeanors when B.B., who died last week at 89, hit the stage and the crowd danced wildly. It didn’t work.