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Description
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I often went to New Orleans to sell my blood and on my way north I was picked up by a gay man, David Calcote, in his pickup truck. He asked me to go with into the woods promising, “I will put you up with a very rich lady afterwards.” I didn’t trust him and was busy going up to see the flooding in the Mississippi delta. However, it was against my policy to turn any invitation down, and after the “trip into the forest” he drove me to an old town full of historic antebellum plantation homes. And sure enough, here I was invited in by the owner, Emely Kelly, even into her bed here, where Earline, her black servant, served us breakfast in bed in the morning. Shortly after my two weeks stay, Emely had shot herself to death in her bathtub, found by Earline. Earline and Emily’s daughter, Jane, are still my friends today.
Natchez, 207 S. Wall St – March 23rd, 1973
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