Studio 51 Lounge
Sunset Alley
Durant, Mississippi 39063

Notice the other Holmes County Mississippi points of interest on the top map, and watch as their names become hyperlinked. The New Port Church is the final resting place of Elmore James who was born, raised, and buried in Holmes County Mississippi.

The bottom map marks the location of the Studio 51 Lounge, a still-standing, still-open juke joint in which Elmore James played. It is located on Sunset Alley, the un-named 2-block long, northerly/southernly running street on the map. Not shown on the map is the alley on the south side of the Studio 51 and running easternly/westerly from Highway 51 to Depot Street.

In the photo to the right, the camera points to the north and up Sunset Alley. That's the Studio 51 on the left with the barmaid's car parked in the shade out front. The Bluesmobile is parked out of sight in a vacant lot to the right. Notice the white car in the background. It's traveling east on Highway 12.

In this photo, the camera points to the west and up the unnamed alley. Notice the Bluesmobile on the left. Notice the white car in the background. It's traveling south on Highway 51.

Notice that I have included on this page a street-level map of Durant and these 2 photos with seemingly-useless comments about directions of car travel. All that is so you folks–especially folks around nearby Jackson–can easily find the Studio 51. You'll not find authentic juke joint atmosphere any better than inside the Studio 51.

While staying in Holmes County, I spent several days hunting for a still-standing juke joint that Elmore James played in. This is it. Elmore James played his awesome slide guitar here in 1952 according to the mayor's cousin who was there. In those days, it was known as "Ed Powell's in the alley."

This juke joint and the alleys outside would have been wall-to-wall people that night. Just the year before, Elmore's "Dust My Broom" reached the Top Ten R & B chart. Overnight, he was famous.

One important note: I did not go to this juke joint after dark. Therefore, I do not recommend that you go to this juke joint after dark. It may be as safe as sitting on the mayor's front porch, but I don't know that for a fact.

I do know for a fact that it shocked the black folks inside this juke joint when I, a white man, stepped through that propped-open front door one hot afternoon. But I'm used to that reaction.

Here's the view from just inside the front door and taken about 30 minutes after the folks you see decided I wasn't going to cause them trouble. The woman in the orange shirt and behind the bar wasn't there when I first arrived. She's Annie Redd. Her and her husband, Hal Redd, have owned the Studio 51 since "‘round ‘78 or ‘79."

I walked through the front door and up to the 2 people who were sitting then exactly as you see them sitting at the table in the photo taken later. I introduced myself to the man who looked age 30 something and also looked slightly familiar. He said, "They call me Rocket. Hey, I've seen you ridin' ‘round town in that old car. Saw you takin' pictures of that joint over on Depot Street. Talked to you, remember?"

"Yeah," I said, remembering. "Asked you if there were any musicians around here. Care if I sit down?"

"Nah," he said. "Sit down."

So I sat, pulling out the green chair you see at his left. I reached my hand across the table to the woman and introduced myself to her. She looked age 30+ something and looked at me as if I emanated some sort of foul odor. She ignored my hand so I removed it from over the table. "What you want?" she asked, meaning my business, not in reference to my possible thirst.

I explained why I was there. In short, the mayor had sent me there because Elmore James had played there.

"Who's Elmore James?"

I explained Elmore James. Then I asked, "You the owner?"

"Barmaid."

"You got a Diet Coke^®?"

"Ain't got nothin' but beer."

I started asking questions about the place, questions which deepened her mistrust. She seemed to know only the name of the place and the name of its owner. I asked her, "Can you call the owner?"

"Ain't got no telephone here." She abruptly got up and soon disappeared behind the bar.

I started talking to Rocket. In a minute or two, she returned to the table and sat there silently while she sipped a Budweiser. Rocket seemed like a nice guy. He even knew of Elmore James. In about 5 minutes, I looked up and there behind the bar sat the 60 something woman in the orange shirt, the co-owner, I soon discovered. I guess she entered through a back door. I left the table and took a seat at the bar, introducing myself as I sat.

I carefully explained who I was and what I did. "The mayor, Mr. Wiley," I said, "sent me here because Elmore James played here."

That statement broke the ice. "Elmore James played here? I didn't know that. Who would-a thought? Wait ‘til I tell my husband. He'll love it."

She introduced herself then. Even the barmaid became friendly. I got permission and started taking photographs.

Camera pointed west down the bar.

The bandstand corner. For sure Elmore James stood there and played and possibly so did Hound Dog Taylor and Howlin' Wolf.

Maybe Elmore James sat there. Those stools look 48 years old to me.

Maybe that's reindeer horns in the Christmas display still on display on May 17, 1999.

The Bluesmobile parked outside another cool place.

The Rocket man going out the door. I like this photo. Rocket was a cool guy. He even posed for this photo and a couple of re-takes.

The barmaid remained friendly even after the telephone rang and Annie Redd answered it. I acted like I didn't notice.

Photo by Rocket Photos, Durant, Mississippi

Here we are looking at the music on the jukebox. It contained 45 rpm vinyl records and operated on quarters only. Here's the cost of listening to music in the Studio 51:

•   1   song =   .25¢
•   3 songs =   .50¢
•   7 songs = $1.00
• 35 songs = $5.00

How's that for cheap?

If you guessed until David Duke started listening to Howlin' Wolf, you'd never guess the record I'm pointing to: Chuck Willis: "Mr. Blues" & "Savanna Lee"

Chuck Willis died in 1958 soon after recording a song titled "What Am I Living For?" This jukebox was lost in a time warp! Alas, it contained no Elmore James, but here's a few of the many artists and songs on that jukebox:

• Howlin' Wolf: "Evil" & "Lil' Red Rooster"

• John Lee Hooker: "Hobo Blues" & "Blues Before Sunrise"
  "Boom Boom" & "Boogie Chillun"

• Booker T. and the MGs: "Green Onions"

• Albert King: "I'll Play The Blues For You" & "Angel Of Mercy"
  "Born Under A Bad Sign" & "Driving Wheel"

• Muddy Waters: "Mojo Working" & "Rocket 88"

And last but by no means least:

• P. Kelly & Celine Dion: "I'm Your Angel"

Where that song came from, I'll never know. I put $2 in quarters in that jukebox and had a blues blast.

I don't blame the barmaid for mistrusting me at first. Look at the situation from her point of view. 99.999% of the white people who unexpectedly stroll through the door of a juke joint pack a badge on their shirts or inside their wallets. The barmaid's reaction was a perfectly normal reaction, one I have caused at least 100 times in the last couple of years.

If this white boy lived in Jackson, Mississippi, about 45 minutes down Interstate 55, about once a month on a Saturday afternoon you'd find me in the Studio 51. I'd have a couple of cool friends with me and a couple of rolls of quarters for that awesome jukebox. While the cold beer flowed and the music played, we'd enter a time warp–somewhere along about 1959.