All Hallows Eve: Ghosts on the Rocks

The cobblestones are rocks. No one can deny it. As surely as Graceland is stone, mortar, wood, paint, water, mud and trace amounts of peanut butter and banana, the cobblestones are rocks.

The boys back at the lab won't find anything but rock. Nothing close to the pride of Memphis' founding and commercial ascent, the shame of its brutality and moral decline, the history of its early connection to the River and its lost connection during its dystopic flight eastward. It won't find the ghosts of man, mule and machine that have wandered down to the River's edge and back up to Memphis, or an imagination that conjures those spirits.

Rocks.

Happy Hallowe'en. Be safe, befriend the intangible, beware Dickey Drakeller.