Grave project honors forgotten blues musicians

AP

Blues guitarist Tommy Bankhead rubbed shoulders with some of the genre’s royalty, from Howlin’ Wolf and Elmore James to Albert King and Sonny Boy Williamson.

But visitors to the overgrown St. Louis cemetery where Bankhead was buried more than a decade ago would never know his musical legacy. Or his name.

Be it neglect, inattention or hard times, Bankhead’s family never added a grave marker to his burial plot. That will soon change thanks to the Killer Blues Headstone Project, a nonprofit effort to bring recognition to long-forgotten blues musicians.

Though the group has posthumously honored musicians as far away as California, its efforts are concentrated in a fertile blues corridor that stretches from the Mississippi Delta through St. Louis to Chicago and Michigan.

The project’s vice president, retail manager Aaron Pritchard, 33, must be equal parts musicologist, cultural historian, archivist and Internet detective for the blues genealogy project.

Several years ago, he met a kindred spirit in Steven Salter of Whitehall, Michigan, whose own search for his musical idols began with a detour to the Chicago area while en route to the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. After stopping at the graves of McKinley Morganfield, better known as Muddy Waters, and Chester Burnett (aka Howlin’ Wolf), Salter found an unmarked grave for blues pianist Otis Spann. A letter bemoaning Spann’s fate to a blues magazine ignited a successful fundraiser and convinced Salter to launch the headstone project in 2008.

While heartfelt, the project’s efforts remain modest. They have laid 22 headstones, with several more completed but awaiting placement. The flat grave markers are engraved with the artist’s dates of birth and death, along with images of instruments or musical notes.

There is no shortage of candidates. The project’s website lists another two dozen late musicians whose earthly whereabouts are unknown. And Pritchard carries a dog-eared reference book that lists the vital statistics of more than 1,400 blues players, organized by state.

In early December, the project honored Aaron “Pinetop” Sparks, a hard-living boogie-woogie piano player credited with writing the standard “Every Day I Have the Blues” before his death in 1935 at age 29. Sparks’ grave was unmarked for another 78 years before Pritchard laid a stone at a historically black cemetery in suburban St. Louis.

While some of the project’s grave-side ceremonies lead to late-night jam sessions, the Sparks service was somber and simple, with only Pritchard, the cemetery superintendent and several reporters present.

Once the stone was secured, Pritchard placed his iPhone on the ground, Sparks’ signature rollicking song filling the silence.