It was back in '36, or was it '37, I was down in the Delta when I met up with a guitar carrying man who introduced himself as Lonnie J. He said that if I had some money he knew where we could get some homebrew and maybe some women. I was a little nervous, but it was getting near dark and even I knew we had to be getting out town. We ended up in a one-room country shack and things got a little bit crazy. There was a woman, I never did know her name, but she had a laugh to remember. There must have also been another man there too, cause the woman keep calling out to someone name "Bob". She kept saying "play it Bob, play the blues." The liquor was hitting me hard and the last thing I can recall was Lonnie, or was it Bob, saying he just finished writing a new song, he didn't have a title for it yet and he just called it "#29". I must have passed out, 'cause the next morning I woke up alone (and with no money) on the ground outside the shack. I stumbled back into the hut and it was empty - empty except for unsigned note. All it said was "We'll meet again, on highway '61".
I use the name in memory of Lonnie, the woman with the big hearted laugh and somebody named Bob. I despite the fact that I spent many a day sitting on bleachers out in the sun, I never did meet those people again out on highway '61.
I use the name in memory of Lonnie, the woman with the big hearted laugh and somebody named Bob. I despite the fact that I spent many a day sitting on bleachers out in the sun, I never did meet those people again out on highway '61.
