Today, the shack still contains Clay's ironing board and a drawer from his dresser, but it now has the amenities it lacked - and a funky decor. It rents for $60 a night as a part of the Shack Up Inn at Hopson Plantation.

Renting shotgun shacks in the Mississippi Delta may seem odd, since many people have worked so hard to escape the poverty associated with them.

But at the Shack Up Inn, and at another motel in Clarksdale, the shacks are a hit and attract tourists from around the world.

"The primitive surroundings in which you find yourself at the Shack Up - that's the beauty of it," said Roger Davison, from London, who stayed in the Clay shack on a "blues pilgrimage" with friends.

"The owners saying these are the actual shacks sharecroppers stayed in, but with running water and electricity, nicely leads you into what you're going there to discover."

By Alan Spearman Each shack has a front porch, a fine congregating spot for Bill Talbot (left), the only one of the team of owners who lives on site, and guests Roger Davison and Philip Wilkins.

The Clay shack stands in the middle of six renovated sharecropper shacks that have been given names such as the Cadillac, Fullilove and Pinetop Perkins. They form rental row in the middle of the plantation.

Four shacks and one room at the Shack Up are currently available for rent - for $40 to $60 - while the others await renovation.The owners try to maintain the integrity of the shacks, Clarksdale and the blues.

"Europeans are looking for lore and history, which it's preserving," said Scott Duncan, a guest from Reading, England, near London, who also stayed in the Clay shack with his wife, Sue. "Hot and cold running water is good as well," he added.

The Shack Up Inn was the brainchild of those associated with Hopson, one of the first plantations to harvest its entire cotton crop with machines. Touted as "Mississippi's Oldest B & B (Bed and Beer)," the Shack-Up has attracted visitors from all over the globe since its inception in 1998.

"It's the kind of place you always hope you'll come across and hardly ever do," Sue said.

The atmosphere at the Shack Up is appropriately informal. Check-in and -out times are flexible.

James and Cathy Butler own the majority of the Hopson land. Cathy's family founded the plantation in 1852.

By Alan Spearman The Cadillac shotgun is one of the shacks visitors the world over are clamoring to rent at Shack Up Inn in Clarksdale, Miss. Besides a bedroom, the former cook's shack has a kitchen, bathroom and hot and cold running water.

The Shack Up is owned and operated by five "shackmeisters," as they call themselves, most of whom also hold full-time jobs..

James is the director of public works for Clarksdale. Another partner, Guy Malvezzi, owns Conerly's Shoes stores. Tommy Polk is a songwriter in Nashville, and Jim Field is an architect who lives in Colorado.

Bill Talbot is the only one in the group who actually lives on the Shack Up grounds.

"He's always wanted to be Bob Newhart," James said.

Talbot owns the block of land on and around his house, and a fountain and grotto he built himself, just south of shack row.

Part of the living area in Talbot's house serves as the Shack Up lobby, where brochures and videotapes for guests are available. The movies range from A Streetcar Named Desire to The Search For Robert Johnson.

Talbot also has a room in his house that he calls Germantown Extended. It is made of Sheetrock and glass block and is rented to guests.

The men run all aspects of the Shack Up, doing everything from stocking the commissary bar to making beds and folding towels.

They even put a Moon Pie on each guest's pillow.

"For anyone going on a blues trip, it's (the Shack Up) pretty much the perfect location to base your trip," Davison said.The rental units, which are usually occupied, especially in the summer, are fully furnished and have just about everything guests need. Each shack has a TV, VCR, CD player, CDs, coffeemaker, microwave and shower.

Guests can use a computer with Internet access at Talbot's house.

A lot of sentimental, historic and downright tacky memorabilia cover the walls in each shack, most of which have three areas: a bedroom/den, kitchen and bathroom.

Inside the Cadillac shack, for instance, a string of red chili pepper lights hangs in the opening to the kitchen. A mannequin torso, covered in Mardi Gras beads, sits on the bar with ashtrays and an old, green Heineken windmill.

"It's the recycle capital of the world around here," Malvezzi said. "We put everything to use."

On a recent Saturday afternoon, Malvezzi walked proudly into the commissary holding a John Lee Hooker "House of the Blues" album. "I've been shack shopping," he announced.

Guests also donate items for the shacks. Someone even sent Oriental rugs one time, Malvezzi said.

Hand-held fans with the likes of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and funeral parlors make a ceiling border in the Cadillac shack bedroom. Also hanging is a portrait of John F. Kennedy Jr., beads, CDs, and a framed check made out to the Shack Up.

A tall, frosted candleholder with a mystical design that makes it look like it may have come from a spiritual supply store, sits next to the bed. So does an alarm clock.

Wake-up calls aren't available at the Shack Up because there are no phones, but wake-up knocks can be arranged.

The shacks have tin roofs and quaint front porches, perfect for drinking the day's first cup of coffee or just hanging out and chatting. There are no barriers between the shacks. An old outhouse is moved back far enough so each front porch is visible from the next.

A "bottle tree," a slim tree trunk with bright blue Skyy Vodka bottles plugged into the branch stubs, stands next to the Cadillac, on the north end of shack row.

The two newest shacks, Pine top Perkins and one tentatively called Legends, are at the opposite end. They haven't been dolled up yet but are expected to be for rent next year.

An eagle's nest at the top of a commissary offers a rare bird's eye view of the plantation: shack row, a 20,000-square-foot cottonseed house, a gin, machine and tractor shops, a grotto and plenty of wide open space.

The commissary stands near the entrance to the plantation, west of the shacks, and serves as a bar and meeting place for the entire community, not just Shack Up guests. The place serves food, typically barbecue, every Thursday night, and there's music on the second Saturday of the month.

The music is often accidental, James said. "We're not paying these people. They're just coming out and playing for tips."

Guy's nephew is Jimbo Mathus of the Squirrel Nut Zippers, who has performed there.

The Duncans were looking for an authentic place to stay when they came to the Delta from England for the King Biscuit Blues Festival. The couple founded the British Blues Connection - the first blues society overseas to be affiliated with the Blues Foundation of Memphis - and Scott is a blues writer.

They found the Shack Up, which they discovered from a link on the King Biscuit Web site.

The Shack Up is a haven for diehard blues fans in search of the music history that abounds in the region.

After all, Clarksdale is where Bessie Smith died and Robert Johnson allegedly sold his soul to the devil at the infamous "crossroads," where high ways 61 and 49 meet. The Shack Up is about 2 miles south of the crossroads on U.S. 61.

In addition, Muddy Waters began his blues career as a teenage harmonica player in adjacent Coahoma County. The Waters cabin has returned from its national tour and is currently on display at the New Delta Blues Museum in Clarksdale.

"It's a lot of history, and that's always fascinating," said Grace Predmore, who recently stayed in the Fullilove shack. She traveled from upstate New York for the Delta blues.

The atmosphere at the Shack Up might best be described by its humble beginning.

A few years ago, James's cousin, songwriter Tommy Polk from Nashville, got the idea to find a shack and move it to the plantation. He wanted a getaway not far from Nashville where he could find song-writing inspiration.

So he told James, who soon spotted the Cadillac shack, a cook's old house on the LaFlore Plantation, about 10 miles east of Hopson. They bought it for $600, moved it and fixed it up.

After settling in his new refuge, Polk wrote Tell Me Sweet Jesus, which he dedicated to the place. "It's been the little shack that's changed my life," he said.

Mementos from those days still remain.

By Alan Spearman The bottle tree at the Shack Up Inn is a nod to folklore-- that shiny bottles will attract and then trap evil spirits.

Today, for instance, visitors at the Cadillac shack are greeted by a picture of a smiling, bright yellow sunshine in a baby blue sky in one of the shack's front windows. Polk's co-workers made it for him when he was sick with the flu and staying in the shack.

After Polk got the Cadillac shack, he quickly drew a crowd of fellow songwriters.

"We decided to use a building (shack) that was obsolete for a songwriter's group," James said. "Their creative juices seem to be stimulated when they get to the Delta."

As the demand for the country refuges became greater, the guys looked for more shacks.

They found them in towns like Rich and Duncan, Miss., all within 20 miles of the Hopson Plantation.

For tax reasons, most farmers have to tear down their shacks, James said, so they are happy to have someone buy them and get them off their hands.

Though a typical shack costs $500 to $600, the major costs are moving and construction, which involves tearing down a wall in the bedroom. Relocating a shack costs about $2,000.

Other shotgun shacks in Clarksdale stand beside the Riverside Hotel, the former G. T. Thomas Hospital where the legendary Bessie Smith died.

Frank Ratliff, who goes by 'Rat,' owns the two-story, 23-room hotel and seven shacks next door. The shacks rent for $50 to $60 a night.

The Riverside, which has been occupied by such celebrities as Ike Turner, John F. Kennedy Jr., Sam Cook and Muddy Waters, is across the street from a cemetery on the tiny Sunflower River, close to the town square. Rat's mother founded the place in 1944.

The Riverside, like the Shack Up, has been occupied by travelers from around the world. Guests from Japan, Sweden and Barcelona, Spain, have recently signed the guest book.

The hotel still has its original furnishings from around the 1940s. All that's changed are the mattress, Rat said.

The bathrooms at the Riverside are communal.

A disco ball hangs from the ceiling in one room, and in No. 2, where Bessie Smith died, she is celebrated with a poster of her on the bed and memorabilia on the walls.

Casey Tifft, a young man from Minnesota who is bicycling along the Mississippi River, recently stayed at the Riverside. "It's definitely more interesting than a chain motel," Tifft said. "It's comfortable. People are nice."

Rat showed obvious disapproval at a mention of the Shack Up Inn.

"We can't afford Moon Pies," he said.

Despite the animosity, the history behind the Shack Up, Riverside and the region itself inevitably binds them.

"It's kind of like walking through a Civil War battlefield," visitor Robert Turner said. "So much happened."

For more information on the Shack Up Inn, call (662) 624-8329, or go to http//:www .shackupinn.com.

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Call (662) 624-9163 for more information on the Riverside Hotel.

- Jennifer Spencer: 529-2421

October 27, 2001