Club Ebony, a famous Indianola, Miss. blues venue that was part of the Chitlin circuit — a loose network of black-owned clubs and venues in segregated American cities — has hosted hundreds of memorable moments. Bobby Rush, the 89-year-old blues singer, recalled one of his favorites in a recent interview: a scene from BB King’s 2014 homecoming concert.
As King weaved through a lengthy version of Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” he noticed that Rush had nodded off. “‘Ladies and gentlemen,'” he began, according to Rush. “‘I have my best friend in the house. i play this music And he’s lying over there sleeping on top of me.’”
The audience giggled, and Rush joined King on stage with his harmonica to cap off his friend’s last performance, ending a tradition of annual concerts that began in 1980. King died a year later.
Club Ebony was more than King’s home club. Upon opening in 1948, it provided Indianola’s black community with a gathering place for dining, dancing, and socializing, and provided generations of blues, rock ‘n’ roll, and soul artists with the enthusiastic crowd they needed to make a living.
King purchased the venue from its third and longest-serving owner, Mary Shepard, in 2008 and donated it to the BB King Museum and Delta Interpretive Center. But after his death, it slowly deteriorated due to the effects of time and disuse. The bill of keeping the 6,400-square-foot club in a city of 9,000 people open four nights a week proved too high in the midst of the vast delta.
“The traditional format wasn’t financially viable — times had changed,” said Malika Polk-Lee, the museum’s executive director. The organization turned Club Ebony into an events venue, but when the tourism industry began to reopen after the pandemic-related closures in 2021, museum staff found that the condition of the timber-frame building was poor.
“We found that there was structural damage. The roof and walls deteriorated and water got inside,” she said. “The senior year was tough on the building.”
The museum had no choice but to keep the club closed while it sought support for its rescue, which it secured through public and private funds, including a grant from regional National Endowment for the Arts-affiliated organization South Arts and a City of Indianola, received city tax. Its dormant period ends Thursday, when the venue is scheduled to reopen its historic doors after spending $800,000 on repairs.
Before mainstream America first saw Ike and Tina Turner when they brought the 1960 rave-up “A Fool in Love” to “American Bandstand,” and before Ray Charles’ four Grammys that same year with “Georgia on My Mind.” won — and long before King stunned a crowd of white hippies and sealed his mainstream success at San Francisco’s Fillmore West in 1967 — they were all regulars at Club Ebony.
Indianola entrepreneur Johnny Jones opened it in 1948 when the post-war economy was in full swing. New industries like the Ludlow Textile Mill had brought money to the city, and workers plonked much of their wages in the jukerooms on Church Street, the city’s notorious home of gambling and vice.
But Club Ebony offered a different experience. Jones’ new club was large and designed to house the big bands of the 1940s, including the Jimmie Lunceford Orchestra and the Count Basie Orchestra. Revelers in khakis and pinstriped suits could buy bonded whiskey and bootleg corn whiskey, and men and women danced to jump blues and mingled on the ballroom floor.
“There wasn’t much socializing in the houses,” said Sue Evans, who was married to King from 1958 to 1966 and lived in the back of the club after her mother, Ruby Edwards, bought it in 1958. The houses were small, she remarked: “Families were big, so nobody was going to anyone’s house at that time to sit down and be entertained.” The club became a social outlet.”
Venues on the national chitlin circuit have included glittering palaces in major cities like Indianapolis and Houston, and lavish juke restaurants in smaller towns. If a club was not available, promoters rented halls; Some shows took place in private homes. Live performances lasting just one night bolstered the music scene’s ecosystem, while clubs, recording studios and record labels sprung up to capitalize on and fuel the celebrations.
The cycle arose from the need for self-sufficiency. Black musicians, promoters and audiences needed places where they were welcome and could be themselves. Even the musicians in King’s band would travel around with cookware and canned goods if they couldn’t find a restaurant that could serve them.
Although some black musicians, as Rush said, “crossed over” to white audiences and had “crossed out” black clubs, artists could make a living in those venues when they weren’t welcome elsewhere. The closure and decay of Club Ebony posed a bigger problem, Evans says: the loss of the black common spaces that once held it together.
“There isn’t a club left in the Delta that could offer music like this,” she said. “So to speak, a large part of our culture goes south; it is no longer there. And this is a continuation of that culture.”
As of December 2021, the museum has raised and invested nearly $1 million in electrical, plumbing, kitchen appliances, furniture, and painting to help bring the club up to date with modern regulations and compliance with the Americans With Disabilities Act. Some elements, such as the sheet metal ceiling panels, are original.
The exterior sports a new pea green livery, color-matched to the historic record at least since it was acquired by Shepard. On a warm afternoon in early May, a team installed information boards inside to give visitors the background story of the club. Museum staff compared their work to old photographs to ensure historical accuracy.
In the 15 years since the museum acquired Club Ebony, music tourism has given Delta towns like Indianola hope for a future, based in part on an interest in their past. In front of the club is a historic marker for the Mississippi Blues Trail, a network established in 2006 of more than 200 sites important to the development of music and its culture.
“It’s important that Black-run clubs are supported,” said Dr. William Ferris, a blues historian and author who spent summers touring the Delta in the 1960s. “Just as black people own their land and farms, it gives business people and families the independence and stability that is very important, and music is a way to achieve that.”
For today’s young black blues musicians, like 24-year-old Christone “Kingfish” Ingram of Clarksdale, Miss., who is widely credited as the heir to the King’s Delta blues crown, historic venues like Club Ebony are still places to celebrate be able to relax away from the pressure of top-class performances at festivals and theatres.
Like King before him, Ingram occasionally frequents his hometown clubs, such as Red’s Lounge in Clarksdale, where he plays three or four sets, often finishing in the wee hours of the morning. Club Ebony, where he performed at the beginning of his career, will certainly be back on his schedule.
“Every time I’ve been there, I’ve always hung out with the OGs of the blues, guys like Mr. Rush and Kenny Neal, and absorbed some history,” Ingram said. “It takes me back to when I started and I feel like it keeps me humble.”
