When I began singing the blues, I bought/rented/stole/recorded/dubbed anything I could get my hands on. The tones and melodies left me with an unquenchable desire to do nothing but sit in the damp heat of the Delta. I dreamed, talked, and sang my heart out to anyone who would listen, and finally, in 2006, did something that my friends and family thought was plumb wild. Early that spring I received a huge tax check. I was unemployed, and it was just a few days before Fat Tuesday. My truck was on the skids, but I didn't care. My teenage son in tow, we headed south. When I got there, it was like coming home. I never wanted to leave, but of course, life called me back to Indiana. Each night after, I would dream of New Orleans. A woman in a red sash would escort me through the streets of the Quarter, up into the galleries of Bourbon Street, and down the misty alleys beside the Cathedral. The city calls me. I mourn and cry for a way. I believe that, when I die, the city I love will call me home. I will join the thousands of spirits that have converged upon this most magical of places. What a beautiful afterlife it will be…

Tamara Dobbins Milam, IN