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Cover Feature News

Taking Care of Beerness

Hopper Seely is a perfect name for a brewery owner.

Seely, 27, is owner of Grind City Brewing Company, but “Hopper” has nothing to do with “hops,” which are flowers used to make beer.

“People think I made the name up when I started the brewing company,” Seely says. “I wish I did. That’d be more clever. My parents named me Hopper.”

Since opening the brewery in 2020, Seely now distributes beer in three different states. The brewery holds public events in the tap room, where they keep 12 to 17 beers on tap. “We always keep it rotating with new, fun stuff. In markets, as of now, we have three products: Godhopper IPA, Tiger Tail craft malt liquor, and Poppy’s Pils pilsner.”

Their beer is in Kroger and other “major grocery chains that are known for selling craft beer, independent liquor stores, and bars and restaurants.”

In late March, Grind City beer will be in new cans. It’s part of the company’s rebranding to keep the business fresh.

Grind City uses “TCB” as its public slogan. But, unlike Elvis, theirs stands for “Taking Care of Beerness.” They also use “TCB” for the company’s pillars, Seely says.

The “T” stands for “Traditional”: “We’re a traditional American craft brewery.” The “C” stands for “Communal”: “We want to be a part of the community,” he says, adding, “We routinely partner with charities, and we all are part of developing Uptown in general, making sure the neighborhood gets cleaned up.” And the “B” stands for “Betterment”: They are working to “make sure Uptown gets redeveloped. Since we started the brewery, there have been two businesses that started because of what we did.”

Located in Uptown, Grind City Brewing Company has a full view of the Memphis skyline. (Photos: Michael Donahue)

Building Up Uptown

The brewery is on the border of the Greenline. Construction has started on the bike path, which will connect Downtown and North Memphis all the way through to Shelby Farms.

Uptown businesses have been growing since Grind City opened, Seely says. “Of all things, a brewery [Soul & Spirits Brewery] started after we started here. We’re seeing developers really following through. There’s construction being built up all over Uptown. There are apartments and a multi-use blend of retail and living spaces.

“I would say it has the feeling of a neighborhood in Downtown. South Main is awesome, but all the apartments are right next to each other. But if you want a slower paced, more relaxed, really family-centered part of town, that is what Uptown is now. And that’s what it’s being developed into.

“I think eventually somebody was going to start the first retail business in Uptown. We just happened to be the first one to do it.”

When trying to decide where to open a brewery, Seely thought, “Do we get a property in the heart of Downtown or do we go Midtown?

“Then I had to sit back and think, ‘What do breweries do the most?’ They build communities. Broad Avenue wasn’t what Broad Avenue is today without Wiseacre [Brewing Company] planting their flag on Broad.”

Same thing happened to areas around Ghost River Brewery & Taproom at Crump and South Main, Memphis Made Brewing Co. in Midtown, High Cotton Brewing Company in The Edge, and Meddlesome Brewing Company in Cordova, Seely says.

Seely looked at Pinch and Midtown but wanted to be “part of an area that can use development.”

In 2017, he discovered a LoopNet photo of North Second Street in Uptown. It was just one overhead shot. But he learned the 4.65 acres at 76 Waterworks Avenue included 40,000 square feet of warehouse space. “It was right across from Harbor Town, a stone’s throw from St. Jude. I said, ‘I’ve got to check this place out.’’’ Then, he says, “I saw the view.” It showed “the entire Memphis skyline perfectly.”

Seely bought the location, which had been the old Tri-State Veneer & Plywood. “They were a custom bent wood chair factory. If you bought a wooden chair before 2000 in America, there was a really good chance you got it at Tri-State.” The company had molds to make “every part of a chair imaginable, and you could customize it.”

The property included four 10,000-square-foot warehouses. “One building was salvageable, and that’s the building we occupy.”

Grind City brews a diverse range of craft beers, with its most recent additions being Belga and Thaddeus. (Photo: Michael Donahue)

Born to Beer

His middle name notwithstanding, Seely’s life has basically involved beer in one way or another.

Born in Memphis, his full name is William Hopping Seely V. “They said, ‘We’ll call you Hopper,’ because every version of William — mostly Bills — has already been used.”

His mom, a movie fan, liked actor Dennis Hopper, and his dad thought Hopper sounded like a good athlete’s name. “Chipper Jones was kind of in the spotlight at that time.”

But, Seely says, “I sucked at baseball. That didn’t work out. I actually did wrestling. I did every sport, but I stuck to lacrosse and football.”

When he was 13, Seely began home-brewing beer with his dad. “He wanted to have a father-son bonding experiment on the weekends he’d be home. And he needed to pick something that a punk middle schooler would be willing to stay home on a Saturday and do with his dad.”

There was one condition: “I was not allowed to sample the beers that we would make.” But, Seely admits, “I’m not saying a sample wasn’t taken when no one was around.”

His mother served his home brews, including his amber lager, at Thanksgiving dinners. And they were a hit. “That brought me so much joy as a middle schooler all the way through high school.” He realized what he enjoyed the most about beer was other people’s reaction to it.

Seely, who went to Briarcrest Christian School, remembers when his teacher asked freshman class members what they wanted to do for a living. “I said, ‘I want to start a brewery.’ That didn’t go down so well.” But he was being honest when he said he liked the “science and math of it” rather than the taste.

Seely’s first beer was a taste of Guinness Extra Stout. “My grandmother loves German beers and Guinness. And she really loves European-style beer. I was like, ‘Oh, can I try it?’ And she thought she’d be able to pull the old ‘I’m going to let you take a sip and you’re going to hate it and we’re good for life.’” That didn’t happen. “I liked the chocolaty-ness of it.”

As he got older, Guinness Draught was Seely’s go-to beer. “People would tailgate with Bud Light and I would tailgate with Guinness Draught. Those are still notes I appreciate in beer today.”

Seely attended Boise State University, but when he was 18 he enrolled in a nine-week course at Brewlab, a brewing school in Sunderland, England. “I learned I know nothing about beer.”

Many fellow students dropped out, but Seely told himself, “If you quit this, you’ll quit everything else for the rest of your life.” He thought, “I have to get through this. … And I did. I ended up graduating third in my class.”

Building a Business

Seely’s goal was “to work at as many breweries in the Mid-South as possible,” and he worked for two years at Yalobusha Brewing Company in Water Valley, Mississippi, and another two years at Ghost River Brewing Co.

He then began formulating a business plan for his own brewery. “I wanted Grind City Brewing to be the pub of Memphis.”

“Pub is short for ‘public gathering,’” Seely says. “I want to be part of your good times. I want our beer to be the one you select to have with your friends.”

Seely still loved Guinness and heavy IPAs, but, he says, “After Brewlab, I had a whole new respect for light beer. It is the hardest beer to make. If you think of light beer as tap water, you know bad tap water when you taste it. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but the tiniest mistake in a light beer is highlighted. Just because the whole point of a light beer is for it to be similar to water. Super subtle flavors.” It can be bitter, buttery, or slightly tart “if you don’t have the proper brewing process.”

Seely came up with a light beer that is “super light, super drinkable. But there’s a subtle flavor that you get from our yeast.” He added subtle fruit and spice flavors. “And that’s just from experimenting with dozens of different yeast strains to figure out the one subtle note we wanted.”

Tony Allen, a Memphis Grizzlies player at the time, was the inspiration for the name, which was his wife’s idea. “Tony Allen said something along the lines of, ‘That’s what we do. We grit. We grind. We are Grind City.’”

Seely bought the old chair factory in 2018, but spent about two and a half years renovating it. A lot of chair parts, mostly chair backs and furniture molds, were left behind. “We wanted their history to be a part of our history. We took the molds they left there and we created almost all of the tap room core. The furniture, the fixtures, that wall are all made from actual molds and furniture pieces.” His uncle and mother built the tables using Seely’s concept of repurposing molds as table tops and wood pieces for the legs.

Blueprints for the Future

On May 11, 2020, Grind City Brewing Company had its “first sale for liquor stores and grocery stores,” Seely says. The Godhopper IPA, Viva Las Lager, and Soulbier black lager were their first three beers.

Cordelia’s Market was one of the first places to sell their beer. “Grind City Brewing is a personal favorite of mine, from their crushable [easily-drinkable] year-rounds to their mouthwatering sours,” says the store’s beer and wine buyer Morgan Pirani. “I know I can always trust the guys in the brew house to create a masterpiece for the masses.”

Grind City began to grow, but, Seely says, “The money we had budgeted for marketing, we had to use to keep us afloat because we couldn’t open our tap room and we couldn’t sell beer to everyone we wanted to during the pandemic.”

They finally opened the tap room that October. “That’s when we realized this is going to work. Just the support from the city. We had a huge day. Everybody came out.” And, he adds, “People were loving the beer.”

Blueprints from the old chair factory are the design on the new cans. “We saved them all and that’s actually the background art on the new cans.”

“We really wanted to focus on who we are and try to express that in a can,” says Grind City director of events Ian Betti. “And that is difficult ’cause the brand as a whole is built around this feeling of community and craftsmanship and, essentially, betterment.”

Their “main job” as a company is “to improve on what is already happening in Memphis,” he adds. The blueprints on the cans are “a nice nod to the past that helps us build the future. Internally, we’re calling it ‘a blueprint to your good times.’”

Grind City also is adding new beers, including Belga, a Belgian-style wheat ale, Seely says. And they’re adding Thaddeus, an amber lager. “We named it Thaddeus because of St. Jude Thaddeus.” The beers previously were only available in the tap room, Betti says.

But, Seely says, “Nothing is finished. Everything has just begun.” They want to do more with their yard. “We did a music festival last summer, and it was a big success.”

They currently do “awesome music sets,” featuring “fun, laid-back music” inside and outside, Seely says.

One of his goals is to have a permanent stage. Another is for the Dave Matthews Band to play at the brewery.

But Seely has a main goal for Grind City Brewing Company: “I want to be able to bring my kids to the brewery. And when they’re old enough to understand where they are, I want to be able to tell them, ‘This is not what Uptown looked like before we started.’”

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We Recommend We Recommend

Blues & Brews at Grind City Fest

This weekend, Grind City Brewing Company is hosting its first-ever Grind City Fest in a collaborative effort with Mammoth Live and local promoter Nick Barbian to bring live music back to Uptown Memphis. The two-day festival will consist of blues and bluegrass performances, headlined by the Grammy-winning Infamous Stringdusters on Friday, and Greensky Bluegrass on Saturday. 

Other performances will include Saxsquatch, The Travelin’ McCourys, Here Come the Mummies, The Wild Feathers, Kyle Nix & the 38s, and local acts Cyrena Wages and Dirty Streets.

The festival has been a year in the making, with the idea for the festival originating in a casual conversation between Barbian, who recently opened Big River Market in the South Main neighborhood, and Grind City Brewing founder Hopper Seely. “We were literally just out there at Grind City Brewing Company having a couple beers, looking at a great skyline of Downtown Memphis and this beautiful, just shy of two-acre lawn,” Barbian says, “and we were like, ‘We should do music out here.’”

(Credit: Grind City Brewing Company)

The hope, Barbian explains, is to promote more live entertainment in the area. “This fest is definitely a preview of things to come. This is hopefully just the beginning. We want to bring more music back to Uptown, especially because that is such a developing part of the city right now, and having the brewery up there is such a great asset.”

Tickets can be purchased in advance at ticketmaster.com or at the door. Single day passes cost $35, and two-day passes cost $65. Children, 12 and under, get in free. VIP tickets are available for $125 and include early access to the venue, one free beer per day, free parking, access to the tap room and patio, a preferred viewing area, private bar and restrooms, limited edition laminate, an expanded beer menu, and complimentary Grind City Brewing tastings. 

For more information, visit grindcitybrew.com/grindcityfest or @grindcityfest901 on Facebook or Instagram. 


Lineup is as follows:

Friday, August 26

Saxsquatch | 5 p.m.

The Travelin’ McCourys | 6 p.m.

Here Come the Mummies | 7:30 p.m.

Infamous Stringdusters | 9:15 p.m.

Saturday, August 27

Cyrena Wages | 3:15 p.m.

Dirty Streets | 4:30 p.m.

Kyle Nix | 5:35 p.m.

Wild Feathers | 7 p.m.

Greensky Bluegrass (set 1) | 8:15 p.m.

Greensky Bluegrass (set 2) | 9:45 p.m.

Categories
Food & Drink Hungry Memphis

Building Owner Says Dirty Crow Not Going in Uptown Space

Google Maps

The building’s owner says this will not — after all — be the new location of The Dirty Crow Inn.

A widely shared, commented, and liked Facebook post from what appears to be the official page for The Dirty Crow Inn wrongly reported this week that the well-loved bar was moving to Uptown, according to the owner of the building.

That post said the Crow was moving to 612 N. 5th Street in Uptown. However, the owner of that building said late Thursday that it isn’t.

“I am the owner of the building and I wanted you to know that we will not be able to have the Crow relocate to that property due to the residential neighborhood and other restrictions,” wrote Robert Malone in an email Thursday.

The building, instead, will be used as a commercial kitchen and an AirBnB, Malone said.

So far, it is unclear where the information came from in the original post. It is also unclear where — if anywhere — the Dirty Crow will be relocated.

This information is an update to our original report on the matter yesterday, which we based solely on the Facebook post (see below).

We’ll update this story as details become available.

Here’s our original story:    

Owners of The Dirty Crow Inn say the restaurant and bar “is not finished” and hope the crow will rise like a Phoenix in a new spot next year.

A Facebook post from the Dirty Crow Wednesday noted that the restaurant/bar is no longer at its original spot on Kentucky, just south of Crump. Memphis restaurateur Aldo Dean, told the Flyer’s Michael Donahue Wednesday that the Crow’s old location is now a trucker-themed restaurant and bar called Momma’s Roadhouse.

Dirty Crow owners said in that Facebook post that they kept the the Dirty Crow name, “and all the yummy recipes, which can’t be sold at any other location.”

“The Dirty Crow Inn is not finished!,” they wrote. “We are in the process of renovating a new location for everyone to come and get their wing fix on, with a cold beer, mixed drink, or wine. We are hoping to be open around the first of the year, and we will be posting updates on the new building as it is coming along…”

Google Maps

The building’s owner says this will not — after all — be the new location of The Dirty Crow Inn.

A later update to that post said the new Dirty Crow will be located at 612 N. 5th Street in the Uptown neighborhood. (Again, this information appears to be wrong.) The post predicted that “The Dirty Crow Inn 2.0 will be bigger and better for the year 2020.”

“We will continue to bring music and adding more to our menu,” reads the post. “We are also entertaining the idea of adding breakfast as well.”

Building Owner Says Dirty Crow Not Going in Uptown Space

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News News Blog

Groups Seek Funds for Afrofuturistic Garden, Food Forest, Boat Dock

Google Maps

Site of South Memphis Future and Funk Community Art Garden

Two groups are looking to transform a vacant South Memphis lot into an Afrofuturistic-themed community garden, and are asking for donations to do so.

Using the online fund-raising platform, ioby, the Center for Transforming Communities and the United Housing Inc. are hoping to raise a little over $8,000 to create the South Memphis Future and Funk Community Art Garden.

The project is planned for a vacant lot on McMilan Street in South Memphis’ Lauderdale subdivision. Designed by Tobacco Brown, a community art garden specialist, the garden “will honor the meaning of home in South Memphis and will reimagine what the future of South Memphis as home will mean using art, photographs, and nature.”

Organizers say one goal of the garden is to engage the community and encourage the activation of other vacant properties in the city. The garden will be a “gateway to begin the discussion about creative ways to activate vacant lots and land while celebrating the culture of South Memphis and the future of the community,” the fund-raising page reads.

A community build day is scheduled for Saturday, October 5th from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. at the site of the future garden. Volunteers will have the opportunity to work with Brown, the garden specialist, to plant flowers and build seating for the space.

Organizers are hoping to reach the fund-raising goal of $8,327 before Monday, October 7th ahead of the unveiling celebration on October 12th. The groups will host an activation celebration that day for the community to come and learn about the garden.

The celebration will feature writers Sheree Thomas and Troy Wiggins as speakers, an Ethiopian coffee ceremony, as well as poetry, dance and musical performances. The event will also provide information on fair housing in the city, programs that promote renter’s rights and home ownership, and the importance of home ownership in building wealth, equity, and stability for families.

Through its New Century of Soul Challenge, the city of Memphis has promised to match donations for this project up to $10,000. To donate go here.

ioby

Future site of the Uptown Community Food Forest


• A few miles north of the South Memphis garden site, another group is looking to transform an existing Uptown community garden into a food forest, a garden that mimics forest growth with edible plants. This strategy for growing food leads to better light exposure, simpler maintenance, and an overall better, more bio-diverse yield.

Unlike most community gardens, organizers say the Uptown Community Food Forest will utilize nearly all of the land where it sits to maximize the amount and variety of crops. The project’s organizers say the food forest will provide the community with access to naturally grown food, including seasonal and native produce that they might not otherwise have access to.

The hope is to raise the $8,675 needed for the project by the end of November. To donate to this project go here. The city is also slated to match funds for this project.

Wolf River Conservancy

Rendering of proposed boat dock

• Several miles away from the site of the future food forest, the Wolf River Conservancy is raising funds to give a Raleigh community better access to the Wolf River.


The Conservancy is looking to construct a boat dock near the recently constructed Epping Way section of the Wolf River Greenway trail. The boat dock will provide expanded access to the 20-acre lake there. In Raleigh, there is currently no safe way to access the water to teach and enjoy paddle sports, according to the Conservancy.

The hope is that the new boat dock will help the group better engage youth and adults in environmental education and recreation activities.

The Wolf River Conservancy has already secured $55,000 for the project, but is looking to raise an addition $20,635 by Friday, October 4th. The city has agreed to provide the difference if the goal isn’t met. To donate to this project, go here.

To learn about more projects in the city like these, visit the ioby site.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Chelsea Morning

Sometimes I just drive around. It’s a life-long habit. I’ll look at a map and explore a random street from one end to the other, just to see what I can see. Last Sunday, it was Chelsea Avenue, which carves a steady east-west course across the northern tier of the city.

I begin at the street’s west end, where it emerges from Uptown, the slowly gentrifying neighborhood near St. Jude. Once you get onto Chelsea, the gentrifying stops, as you enter the New Chicago neighborhood. I detour north on Manassas Street, past the impressive new edifice of Manassas High School, which has, according to the google, 382 students, of which approximately 100 are grade-level proficient in reading.

North of the school, I turn on Firestone Avenue and pass the abandoned factory site with its lonely small brick building and massive smokestack, vertically emblazoned with the tire company’s logo. At the Firestone Grocery & Deli, two men pass a paper bag and watch the world go by. The homes are small, some neatly kept, some falling down but inhabited, some blighted beyond repair.

Back on Chelsea, I pass through a dystopian world of auto repair services and junkyards — the graveyards of rusted automobiles that serve as a poor man’s AutoZone. You go in looking for a driver’s side mirror for your ’98 Le Sabre or an alternator for your old F-150. You take your tools, and if you’re lucky you come out with your part — and dirty hands.

I cross streets with familiar names — Watkins, McLean, Highland — but up here in North Memphis they look different than they do in Midtown. I venture onto Willett Street, north into a little neighborhood hard by the shores of Kilowatt Lake. There’s a boat repair shop, an auto-painting business, various sketchy quonset huts, Dino’s Sausage(!), and houses that shouldn’t be lived in but are. It’s a world apart, a different Memphis. Who lives here?

At Hollywood and Chelsea, things look a little more brisk. There’s the Fashion Corner Men’s Store, 2 Star JR Barbecue, a big thrift shop, warehouses, and a couple of factories, including Southern Cotton Oil.

I cross Warford and decide to drive by Douglass High School. Like Manassas, it’s an impressive newish building, and like Manassas, it’s underpopulated, with only 476 students. The surrounding neighborhood features the requisite small, boxy houses, many painted in lively colors. There are signs of pride — small statuary, a string of Christmas lights, a nice patio set on a porch. An elderly woman stands in her yard with a power cord in hand, arguing with an MLGW worker. The cord appears to be coming from a neighbor’s window, a work-around for someone whose power has been cut off, I’m guessing. Another reminder that life can be cold.

Near Highland — another familiar street in unfamiliar country — I pass the Dixie Disinfectant Co. and Elegant Security Products. Small churches abound — The Upper Room, Sunset Church, and St. John MB Church near Pope Street, just before Chelsea veers under Jackson Avenue and into the Nutbush city limits, as Tina Turner once sang.

The store names begin to change: Especialitas, La Raza, Las Cazuelas, La Roca Tienda, Santa Maria Tires, Montero’s, La Hacienda. The driveways are filled with more pickups than sedans. It’s another Memphis universe. I pass two small pink houses as Chelsea narrows into a residential street paralleling a set of railroad tracks.

After a few blocks, near the elbow of the I-240 loop, Chelsea ends its eastward journey at Wells Station. There are large trees and a forested area between the neighborhood and the interstate. It’s acreage where a landfill has been proposed — and is being fought fiercely by the neighborhood. For some reason, companies like to put landfills in neighborhoods with little pink houses and poor people. And in this case, they’re wanting to put a landfill near Memphis hipsters’ favorite treat shop — Jerry’s Sno Cones. Maybe that will help the neighborhood’s cause. I hope so.

I take these drives because they take me out of my comfort zone, and because they remind me how many of our fellow Memphians need decent housing, a good education, reliable transit, real jobs, and protection from corporate polluters.

At this time of year — at any time of year, really — it’s good for all of us to consider what we can do to make our hometown a better place for our fellow citizens. Find an organization that’s doing good work. Give your time or your money or both. Take a drive and see what you can see.

Categories
Cover Feature News

Living in an Uptown World

Five years after an ambitious redevelopment project began, property values in Uptown are the fastest-growing in Memphis. But even the area’s developers were surprised when property values started to rise almost as soon as the project began.

“We didn’t realize how quickly our improvements would affect our work,” says Alex Mobley, vice president of Uptown’s community development company. “By buying land and reusing it, it raised property values so high, so quickly, that several times we ran out of money.”

Though it slowed their work, it also meant that other people in the city were, quite literally, buying into the Uptown project.

Using tax increment financing and a $35 million federal Hope VI grant, developers Jack Belz and Henry Turley teamed up with the city of Memphis in 2002 to revitalize the area just east of Harbor Town. The result was a 100-block mixed-income neighborhood that Turley calls “revitalization without gentrification.”

“The focus isn’t on tearing everything down, but infilling vacant lots while leaving the habitable homes and apartments in place and ultimately bettering them,” Turley says.

Memphis Housing and Community Development director Robert Lipscomb compares the project to rebuilding a small city.

“When I first got to HCD, our public housing was horrible. It was embarrassing for a city this size to have people living in those conditions,” Lipscomb says.

After being denied a Hope VI grant for the Hurt Village housing project, the city reapplied with a broader plan in mind. “Why not include Lauderdale Courts in the project and make it the whole area stretching from there to Hurt Village?” Lipscomb says. “People looked at us like, you’re going to do what?”

The city began revitalization by acquiring abandoned and vacant lots in what was then known as Greenlaw and hiring Belz and Turley to redevelop them. Hurt Village was demolished and a walkable, mixed-income community planned in its place.

Mobley began working with the Uptown project in 2003, during the demolition phase. “I thought to myself, this is going to be a lot of work,” she says.

In 2005, the Metropolitan apartments opened with great fanfare, and former residents of Hurt Village were among some of the first tenants.

“Once people started moving in, the change was incredible,” Mobley says. “Every month you would see enormous improvement.”

Every new home is built to MLGW EcoBUILD standards, saving residents roughly 35 percent on their electric bills and 55 percent on gas bills. Using the Hope VI program, prospective homebuyers can qualify for an interest-free forgivable grant that is reduced 10 percent per year for 10 years.

“It hasn’t been a real moneymaker from our standpoint,” Belz says about the Uptown project, “but it’s been a worthwhile contribution to the continued revitalization of downtown Memphis.”

With the initial phases complete, 5,000 new residents are sharing chili cook-offs, progressive dinners, and touch football games with longtime residents of the oldest suburb in Memphis. A commercial development also is planned near Auction and Danny Thomas.

But, as the neighborhood transitions to self-sustainability, it still faces challenges. The project initially met with skepticism and distrust, and some of that lingers. Turley cites crime, public schools, and blight as areas that need improvement, and he also wants to find a way to help longtime residents improve their property.

“What has been called the new neighborhood and the old neighborhood … we’d like to blur that distinction in the coming year,” he says.

And though part of the project was an anti-blight initiative, the Uptown area still has pockets of blight.

“It’s challenging, but the end result will far outweigh the difficulty,” Mobley says. “Once you meet the people who live there now and the people who have lived there for years, it makes it all worthwhile.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

Early Adopters

Rich Bullington and Kaleigh Donnelly moved their family to Uptown after being pioneers in Cooper-Young.

While Rich Bullington and Kaleigh Donnelly were building their new house, it got the neighbors talking.

“There was a rumor going around that this house was being built as auxiliary patient housing for St. Jude,” Donnelly says.

The neighborhood can perhaps be forgiven for assuming — somewhat correctly — that the research hospital was involved. Donnelly works in St. Jude’s food-service division and likes the complex’s signature coral color so much, she decided to use it on her house, too.

“[The builder’s decorator] went to St. Jude with her little paint-chip book and went up to a wall,” Donnelly says. “Security was like, I don’t know if we’re going to let you in, and she says, please, I just want to match the paint.”

It was raining that day, so Donnelly calls her house’s color “wet St. Jude.” Officially, however, the color is “mellow coral.”

Donnelly and Bullington are early adopters when it comes to burgeoning communities. When the family bought in Uptown, the neighborhood was nothing but dirt. And their first home together was in a then-sleepy Cooper-Young.

“We bought our house [in Cooper-Young] in the spring of ’93. There was nothing there, just Java Cabana and Café Ole and that was it,” Donnelly says. “We just knew we were making a good investment. My parents thought we were crazy.”

After moving in, the couple didn’t think they would ever move out of Cooper-Young. But they say it got to a point where one bathroom wasn’t enough for the family of four.

“Honestly, that was a big part of it,” Donnelly says. “The house was built in 1935, and there’s only so much you can do to improve it without taking the character away. We didn’t want to do that, but we needed more house.”

One day, while the family wrangled over the bathroom, Bullington remarked that they needed a bigger house. Later on that day, Donnelly called him and told him she had found their new house. It wasn’t built yet, but she had found it.

Now they have 1,800 square feet, three and a half bathrooms, central air, and enough electrical outlets so they don’t have to plug surge protectors into surge protectors for all their electrical appliances.

Though Donnelly didn’t work at St. Jude when the family decided to move to Uptown, having a job close to home is a big plus. It takes her about 15 minutes to walk to work each morning.

The family doesn’t consider themselves “tree-huggers,” but between the walkability and the sustainable materials used to build the house, it all made sense.

“Before we got married, I wanted to live downtown and he wanted a house with a yard,” Donnelly says. “This seemed like a way to get downtown and have a house and a yard.”

Now they hope that Uptown will be just as good an investment as Cooper-Young was.

“My parents ate their words,” Donnelly says. “Now they totally trust my judgment on real estate decisions. They’re like, Uptown? Looks brilliant. Do what you’ve got to do.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

The Prodigal Son

Justin Fox Burks

The Donnelly-Bullington family moved to Uptown from Cooper-Young.

For Tory Parks, it’s not just real estate; it’s home.

When Tory Parks began renovating the apartment building at 241 Mill, he decided to rent the units instead of selling them as condos.

“It’s my history, so it’s not for sale,” Parks says.

Members of Parks’ family have lived in the building since 1905. He grew up there with his mother. His great-grandmother and two aunts lived there, as did his grandparents. In fact, after his grandparents split up, they continued to live there, in two different apartments next door to each other. But in the 1980s, the family began to move out of Greenlaw.

“My grandmother was the last of our family to live here. Drug dealers moved next door, so I bought it, gutted it, and started over,” he says.

Parks graduated from Central High School and got his criminal justice degree from Southwest Tennesse Community College. But about 10 years ago, he started renovating property.

“When I got into it, I just wanted to perfect it. I’d fix one up and do it again until I got it right,” Parks says.

For Jennifer Place — named after his mother — the style is “New Orleans” on the outside and “Bahamas” on the inside. He included a graceful arch in the living rooms and each of the bottom-floor units has a private garden in the back.

On a mild September morning a week before the grand opening, Parks sits on the building’s steps. Passing motorists and pedestrians say hello as they pass.

In a way, Parks is a bridge between Greenlaw and Uptown — what was and what could be.

“There was a little bit of distrust because of the way the development moved in. You’re trying to police people you didn’t want to police at first,” he says. “People would get killed in this neighborhood when I was growing up, and it wouldn’t even make the news. It was like it wasn’t important.”

Now, he says, anyone should be able to see the area’s redevelopment was a good thing for everybody.

“We’re taking back the community. The number of bad people who still live in the community is low, and the number of good people is high,” Parks says. “After awhile, you’re going to have to get with it or leave.”

Parks bought the apartment building for $37,000 in 1997, and, though its value has appreciated since then, it hasn’t been an easy road. Two years ago, he was about 80 percent done with the renovation when someone burned down the building.

“That was a critical blow. That took a year of my life away,” he says. Then he thought about his mother, raising four boys on her own, and knew he couldn’t give up.

“I couldn’t let her down. I want to build communities. I’m not just housing people,” he says.

And maybe he’s succeeded. When his grandmother saw a sidewalk in front of the building — something that didn’t exist when she lived there — she burst into tears.

“A lot of people tell me, man, you’ve invested too much. I’m like, I used to live here. You mean to tell me I’m not worth it? This isn’t just real estate. I’m trying to inspire people.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

Single in the City

Justin Fox Burks

Tory Parks has renovated the Uptown apartment building he grew up in.

Jackson, Tennessee, native finds a home that’s just her size.

Charlotte Marshall wanted to buy a house, but hesitated when her realtor suggested Uptown.

“I had looked there years ago, and the houses were all three and four bedrooms,” says the single woman. “I didn’t know they had started building houses with two and three bedrooms, so I initially said no, I don’t need that much room.”

She looked in other areas — Midtown, downtown, East Memphis — but returned to Uptown.

“They had started building houses for single people, not just families,” Marshall says. She found a house that was the right size and reminded her of places she had lived in Maryland and Florida.

“I liked the area,” she says. “It’s not like any other community in town. There are people who have been here 30, 40 years, mixed with people who have just moved in. There are different races. It’s very urban.”

A native of Jackson, Tennessee, Marshall moved to Memphis in 1996 and works in quality assurance for Coca-Cola in West Memphis. She wanted to live close to downtown, and she needed to live close to work. Uptown is about as close to the Hernando DeSoto bridge as one can get.

“It’s close to where the action is,” she says of her house on 5th Street. “Since I’m single, there’s no point in living in the suburbs. That’s for families.”

Being close to the action is one thing, but she’s also in a good spot for physical activity. Marshall goes to a downtown gym, and she also typically runs seven to 10 miles several times a week.

“When I go jogging, I can go through four different neighborhoods in 45 minutes,” she says. “I go to Harbor Town and loop around there, come back down Jackson, go through Overton Park, go down Madison and the medical district. I like that the neighborhoods are so close.”

If other neighborhoods are close, the neighbors are even closer. She knows all the neighbors on her block, and, in November, they had a progressive Thanksgiving dinner. One house had appetizers and drinks, another had the main course, and another had dessert.

“It reminds me of a city that is not so close-minded,” Marshall says. “It’s up-and-coming, and I like that.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

Retail Reworked

Justin Fox Burks

Charlotte Marshall in front of her Uptown home

A former University of Memphis architecture student did his homework on Uptown. Literally.

Duke Walker might say he’s going to “the store,” but what he really means is that he’s going home.

Last summer, Walker bought Lee’s Cash and Carry, a 1,500-square-foot grocery store that’s been in the neighborhood since 1936, to renovate it into a modern home.

An Air Force brat, Walker spent his early childhood in England, Turkey, and Spain before his father retired to the family tobacco farm in Virginia. He initially came to Memphis with his wife and worked in construction.

“She had landed a job here, and as a construction worker, I could work anywhere,” Walker says. “When I moved to Memphis, I started living out east. I wasn’t aware of what was going on. I just knew that was where all the construction was. I could bend a lot of nails out there and make some money.”

In the late 1990s, with 20 years in construction and a failed marriage under his tool belt, Walker decided to go back to school to study architecture. It was there that he began looking at urban sprawl and its debilitating effect on the urban core.

“It started grating on me,” he says. “I’ve been supporting this? And in a big way! We’re framing these multi-million dollar-custom houses, and it’s like, I’m helping these people screw up the city.”

For his thesis, Walker studied ways to use derelict land near downtown, spending a lot of time in the neighborhood then known as Greenlaw. He started thinking about reusing and renovating older buildings.

“I guess that’s what I did with myself,” Walker says. “I made use of what I had and remade myself.”

When he got a job with the Hnedak Bobo Group this year, he began to look for a place to live downtown and saw a listing for Lee’s Cash and Carry.

“I thought, I bought a Gatorade in that store when I was working on my thesis. And now it’s for sale,” he says. “It was rezoned residential, and all these little bells were going off. Here it is, Duke. You better jump.”

Some of his friends think he’s crazy, but when he talks about using hidden resources and teaching his teenage children a lesson about conservation, he sounds both rational and incredibly excited.

“I could have bought a house for the same thing I paid for [the store] and not have to do much to it, but I just couldn’t do that,” Walker says. “Knowing that the building was sitting there, and maybe somebody would bulldoze it and build apartments there — nah. It’s a perfectly fine building.”

Renovations are rarely easy. Walker couldn’t get a residential loan for what was essentially still a commercial building, but he couldn’t get a commercial loan on property that didn’t have any commercial use. Instead, he got financing from the former owner.

“This is not just moving into a house,” Walker says. “This is changing the usage and trying to reintegrate this building and this location back to a living/working place again.”

He’d like to keep the “Cash and Carry” sign painted on the side, because he doesn’t want the neighborhood to lose the landmark.

“I want it to say Lee’s Cash and Carry. I want it to be the same thing everybody knows it as, but now Duke lives there instead.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

A Love of Antiques

Justin Fox Burks

Duke Walker at home in a former Uptown grocery store.

Larry Bonds restores old homes in the Uptown area, always looking for a story.

A friend says Larry Bonds is obsessed with old things. But all one has to do is step inside his front door to know that is true. Everything — from the furniture to the light fixtures to the old-fashioned wheelchair that sits near the front door — has a story.

“I use that on the porch,” Bonds says of the wooden wheelchair. “Some kids stole the chairs I had out there. This way, I can roll it in at night.”

Bonds is one of Uptown’s pioneers. After restoring several homes in Midtown with a partner, he began to hear about opportunities in Greenlaw in 2000. That year, he bought the house he and his family now live in for $13,500.

“I remember when downtown was a ghost town, and I had watched [revitalization] happen there. I said, now is the time to buy down here, because if that area did it, this area will do it, too,” Bonds says.

The Mississippi native has renovated seven houses in Uptown and is in the middle of another renovation. He’s fixed up two apartment complexes, bought and sold three houses without touching them, and has other houses mothballed.

Most of the things in his home have come from houses in the neighborhood or from his family’s former antique store, or they’re odds and ends that he has found.

The tile in the upstairs shower is interspersed with marbles and pieces of pottery and china scavenged from the neighborhood. The light fixtures in the upstairs hall were installed originally in a gymnasium. In the kitchen, the black-topped island in the center of the room was once a lab table for Memphis City School students.

Everything in his study was salvaged, Bonds says. The floorboards came from an old crate. The light fixture, from a house he restored in Midtown, illuminates a row of likewise salvaged light fixtures, waiting to be reused.

“I don’t want anything new in my house. It doesn’t have a story,” Bonds says.

Because of his love of history, it’s fitting that Bonds lives in Greenlaw, Memphis’ first suburb, even if it is called Uptown now.

“It’s the oldest neighborhood in Memphis. It’s got a lot of character,” Bonds says. “A Civil War soldier walked through this house. If we were sitting here the day Memphis got attacked by the Yankees, we would be able to hear the gunfire off the river. That’s pretty cool.”

Justin Fox Burks

Grace Church, pastored by Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer, holds services at Bridges.

Home Grown

Justin Fox Burks

Larry Bonds and his family in their Uptown kitchen.

Local men “plant” evangelical church in Uptown.

Jordan Thomas, Bryan Smith, and Nathan Sawyer aren’t interested in building a megachurch.

Since beginning Grace Church last year, the pastors have gained a following of more than 30 members.

“That’s exceeded our expectations at this point,” Thomas says. “I honestly thought that the first several months we’d be in my living room, and it would hold what? 15?”

The living room in question is in a cozy new house on Mill, near Greenlaw Circle.

About four years ago, the trio began thinking about planting a new church. They were all from the Memphis area, having lived in West Memphis, Millington, Olive Branch, and Bartlett. Then, in 2005, Thomas attended a church-planter program in Minnesota.

“The one thing we were waiting for was another church that would bless the effort and say, hey, this seems like the Lord’s at work, not just some crazy guys,” Thomas says. “They said they would be really happy with any major city in the United States.”

The next challenge was to find a location.

“We saw how close Uptown was to the river and how close it was to the downtown population,” Smith says. “Uptown was being revitalized. Plus Midtown is right there. It became obvious to us that this is where we needed to plant.”

The trio also noted that most of the evangelical churches had migrated east, while the downtown population was rebounding.

“There are a lot of people and not many churches,” Thomas says. “I don’t know if that’s profound or not, but it was obvious.”

Even without its own building, the church has become a part of the community. Services are held at the nearby Bridges building. Over the summer, the men did a kids’ Bible study every Sunday night in Greenlaw Park, and Thomas’ house has become one of the neighborhood kid hangouts.

“I have four children,” he explains.

But for a group that isn’t interested in a megachurch, their followers are definitely following their lead. Both Smith and Thomas have moved to Uptown, and Sawyer is planning to move there. Out of the church’s 30 members, five other families have already moved into the neighborhood, as well.

“We never said we think everybody should move here,” Smith says. “They knew this was where we are going to plant and that we plan to impact the community. Part of that is moving into the community, and I think people have just felt that.”

Editor’s note: Jack Belz and Henry Turley are minority stockholders of Contemporary Media, Inc., parent company of the Memphis Flyer.

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Cover Feature News

Going Uptown?

New residential developments sparkle on both sides of Danny Thomas Boulevard north of St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Optimistic names like Metropolitan Apartments and Uptown Homes seem to promise a brighter future to these once-blighted streets.

Just north of Uptown, past Chelsea Avenue, after Danny Thomas becomes Thomas Street, the strip of black-owned and black-run barbershops, hot-wings stands, juke joints, and nightclubs looks like something out of this city’s celebrated past. It’s the kind of soulful authenticity that distinguishes Memphis from other places. In fact, some locals describe Thomas as the real Beale Street.

As gentrification approaches from the south, one wonders if Thomas Street — the jugular of black commerce in North Memphis — will eventually meet a fate similar to Beale Street’s. Beale Street — now tourist-driven, with its neon signs, cover bands, and thriving crowds — once pulsed with almost exclusively black commerce and culture until the city’s “urban renewal” plan indiscriminately leveled many black businesses in the 1960s.

Thomas Street straddles a line between much-needed civic improvement and careful preservation.

While it’s easy to feel nostalgic about the city’s past and to simply equate Thomas and Beale and independent black culture as an endangered species in Memphis, one iconic Thomas Street figure wishes other people could “see through my eyes.”

Justin Fox Burks

Warren Lewis has witnessed many changes on Thomas Street and instigated a few of the better ones himself. In 2004, the city renamed a block of Thomas between Chelsea and Guthrie avenues “Warren Lewis Street,” to honor the barber and community activist.

“I’ve been here 55 years, so I’ve seen a lot of things happen,” Lewis says. “I came to Memphis December 3, 1951. North Memphis was blooming,” he continues. “We had the Savoy Theatre at Firestone and Thomas, the Harlem House [restaurant]. Johnnie Currie’s place [Club Tropicana] was down there at 1331 Thomas. Little Richard, Fats Domino, all of them played there. Used to be a racetrack and a few big plants. Furniture stores, grocery stores, shoe shops, Jew Thomas’ big clothing shop, and little juke joints all around. I opened up my first shop at 612 Life Street, right off Thomas Street.”

Justin Fox Burks

Barber and community activist Warren Lewis has been on North Thomas for 55 years. His patented hair-styling technique involves burning hair with a candle and has been featured on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.

Lewis bought his current shop at 887 Thomas in 1965. He gradually augmented that structure with materials salvaged from other properties he owns.

“I paid for it as I went,” he says.

The expanded complex includes two rooms of barber chairs, numbering about a dozen, three video-poker machines, and a deli. A TV perched at the end of one row of barber chairs broadcasts Lewis’ highlight reel of news, late-night talk-show appearances, and an artsy documentary, Who is Warren Lewis?, made in 1990.

On the screen, Lewis practices his patented hair-shortening technique. He uses cathedral candles, or tapers, to singe away the hair. In one segment, Lewis works on Jay Leno’s drummer, whose eyes pop and roll like the Little Rascals’ Buckwheat as the smoke rises from his head. Leno howls as Lewis describes a “small accident” he once had styling hair this way.

“The scent goes up, and the ash falls down,” Lewis explains.

He adapted the technique from something he learned growing up in the country. When his family killed a chicken for supper, Lewis plucked the feathers and burned off the fine fuzz left over before cooking the bird.

Justin Fox Burks

Back in real life, Lewis’ place fits the image of the classic black barbershop. Neighborhood folk come and go, whether they’re in for a cut or not. Often the number of full seats in the waiting area outnumbers the full barber chairs. People chatter about neighborhood news. Old men tell lies, guffaw, and slap knees. Politicians stump at Lewis’. As the proprietor has developed his charitable reputation, people in need stop in and ask “Who is Warren Lewis?” so much he had the slogan printed on bumper stickers and distributed throughout the section of North Memphis that’s come to bear his name: Warrentown.

Lewis worked in the Juvenile Court system between 1965 and 1968. “I knew all the kids around here in New Chicago,” he says. “I asked them, ‘Why are you here in Juvenile Court?’ ‘What’s the problem?'”

He discovered that most were petty thieves, and he founded an organization to find work for youths, who today would be called “at risk.”

“I came back to the community and organized the Black Knights,” Lewis says. “Me and Isaac Hayes both almost starved to death when we were little boys. We organized the Black Knights, and Isaac Hayes was vice president. All the guys at Stax, they would give us money to operate.

“We came up with a food program called the Emergency Assistance Bank. We had truckloads of food coming in every day. People depended on me. A.C. [“Moohah”] Williams [of WDIA] brought all these brooms and rakes. I used to have two buses to carry kids from neighborhood to neighborhood every morning. We called it the ‘broom brigade.’ We split the money we made between all the kids.

Justin Fox Burks

“Our goal was to try to help some of these young people. We couldn’t help them all,” he says.

The Black Knights dissolved as Stax Records sank in the mid-’70s.

Lewis once dreamt of building a Warrentown strip mall to stimulate the local economy. He now believes that some destruction must precede progress on Thomas.

“Houses haven’t been painted in 35, 40 years. They need to be,” he says, his voice softening as if reading aloud to a child at bedtime. “Demolished,” he says. “Anytime you clean something, you won’t have as many flies and roaches. If you clean up a neighborhood, you won’t have as much crime.”

Lewis hopes that the Uptown development continues its way up Thomas Street.

“Ain’t no ifs, ands, or buts about it. We need it to clean up the neighborhood,” he says. “After Firestone, International Harvester, and American Bridge started closing down, everybody in North Memphis run off and left me here. I’ve been here and fought to get things done. I have had hope that things would be better. I’ve never had any real money, but what I’ve had, I put it back into the community.”

Justin Fox Burks

Demolition reduced one of Thomas Street’s landmarks to a vacant lot. American Recording Studio, where Elvis Presley recorded “In the Ghetto,” literally in the ghetto, was torn down in 1989.

Though Thomas Street no longer churns out the hits, music still thrives on the strip. As the czar of Thomas Street nightlife, L.D. Conley, puts it, “Seems like live music is the thing everybody wants to get off into now.”

Venues of all colors and sizes dot Thomas and its cross streets. Jessie Hurd has run One Block North, just off Thomas at 645 Marble Avenue, for a dozen years. The Memphis Connection band plays the little joint on Friday nights.

Another local, “MC Jammer,” is re-opening the beautifully painted J&J Bar and Grill at 1065 Thomas. He wants to give blues musicians a venue off Beale to play live seven nights a week.

Justin Fox Burks

Much of the music is ‘old school’ rhythm and blues on North Thomas.

The thick competition between Thomas clubs isn’t the only challenge facing impresarios of the night. In late October, the Memphis Police Department boarded up one of the Thomas strip’s most popular clubs for reasons that made old Beale colorful: shooting, cutting, scrapping, drugging, and prostituting. Allegedly.

Roy Hughes is a flashy man, even by nightclub-owner standards. He disputes the litany of charges levied against his place at 1217 Thomas — humbly named Club Hughes and decorated with a giant illustration of a Manhattan. He says his story is that of a small businessman victimized by unjust and overzealous local law enforcement officers.

“I’ve been in business here around four years,” Hughes says. “I was a contractor with Memphis Housing Authority. I bought [the building] as a shop for my business. I changed it to a restaurant because it had been a grocery store before, and people would come in looking for plates, so the business was already there.”

The difficulty of being in two places at once forced Hughes to make another change.

“I turned it into a club because when it was a restaurant, food and money was going out the door,” he explains. “I’d be out working on houses and I wasn’t here to babysit my business, and it went down. A nightclub was more convenient for me to keep up with my proceeds,” Hughes says.

The club expanded to both sides of the building, and Hughes’ clientele grew with it.

Justin Fox Burks

“The more my clientele grew,” he says, “the more my problems grew, and the more I became a target. I became a main point of focus, despite there being other clubs around here that do the same amount of business and more.”

If Hughes is a target, police hit the bull’s-eye on Christmas night 2005.

The standard Club Hughes crowd — large and overflowing — came to celebrate that night. Another typical Club Hughes event — a visit from the fire marshal — soon followed.

Justin Fox Burks

“The fire marshal told me, ‘Hughes, I’m not the kind of guy to fuck up your livelihood, but you’ve got some people hatin’ on you,'” Hughes says. “He came back to count the crowd on Christmas and said to let everyone out one by one. He said, ‘When I get through counting ’em, you can let them back in to your capacity.’ But when they were coming out, the [police] officers [gathered outside the club] said, ‘Go on home; he’s closed.’ They were out here blocking people in, towing cars. They did us like a dog that night.

“I have a crowd of [age] 18 on up. The police led everybody out into the streets. The fire marshal counted 400, but when the news came out that following Monday, it said 530. After the club was empty they started harassing everybody. Some of the youngsters decided to party out in the street and started singing my anthem: ‘We at Hughes, we at Hughes,'” says Hughes.

He alleges that the police pulled some of his ejected patrons over as they drove away from the club and found a firearm in a vehicle.

“That’s where their ‘gunman’ came from,” Hughes says. “It was some young dude who said something. The police grabbed him and he broke and ran. They didn’t catch him, and he ended up back in the crowd laughing at them. When it came on the news, it said a gunman chased the police.

They said I incited the riot by grabbing the microphone [during the evacuation] and telling everybody, ‘Don’t let them fuck with y’all.’ I told them to wish the officers and the fire marshal a Merry Christmas on the way out.

The police issued a press release that classified the event a “riot” and the story took.

Hughes has found other amusing inconsistencies between what the police say and do about his club.

The petition to close his club includes, among many other things, a description of an incident earlier this year in which MPD sent minors undercover into the club to — successfully, it turned out — purchase alcohol. To which Hughes cracks, “When they raided, they said it was too dangerous for the police to come in here. But they sent minors in here to get beer. If it’s too dangerous for the police, how in the hell can they send minors in here?”

In addition to serving minors, the police investigation turned up incidents of drug sales and open use of marijuana in Club Hughes. According to the report, the atmosphere was “tolerated and facilitated by the owner, management, and employees. As such, the investigation witnesses, the atmosphere at Club Hughes is one of relative lawlessness in which illicit drugs are openly used, fighting and drunkenness are rampant, and authority, including police authority, is disobeyed.”

“In a club it ain’t hard to find someone doing something wrong,” Hughes counters. “A nightclub is the devil’s temple; you’re going to find all the devil’s people in there.”

An undercover officer purchased marijuana at Club Hughes on September 22nd. As vice detectives closed in on the club, an announcement came over the PA system to alert patrons of the ensuing raid and urge the disposal of any weed.

A week later the undercover officer bought marijuana and Ecstasy in the club — more of the same a week later, including underage consumption of alcohol and “marijuana was being smoked freely inside.”

Justin Fox Burks

A temporary injunction was issued October 25th and the club’s doors and windows were boarded up. Hughes goes back to court December 13th to show, as he says, “everything that was Club Hughes is dead.”

Hughes says that a new business, “Hughes Uptown: The Restaurant Nightclub,” will rise from the ashes.

“I’m gonna change the color of the building,” he says. “I changed the security guards. They told me [in court] I can advertise, and I put a sign up that said we’re coming back, and the police tore that down.”

Hughes wants to make more changes to comply with court orders but won’t be able to until he can access the property again.

“I got a security system, same kind they have at the courthouse, a walk-through metal detector. When I went to court, I had all my ducks in a row. I wanted to show Judge Pollard. There were a lot of things that I learned about through the undercover investigation that I didn’t know. I didn’t know guys were selling dope. I wasn’t the one smoking or selling,” he says.

Finally, Hughes claims that the law is using his past against him. His 1991 conviction for sale of a controlled substance appears in the state’s petition to close Hughes down.

Hughes was, according to his own description, a “crackhead” at the time but has rehabilitated after several attempts and professes 12 years of cleanliness from crack and other substances.

“I think it’s got to do with my popularity. People talk about how they’re going to fill the courtroom when I go to court. I’ll probably have a couple hundred people down there,” he says.

Hopefully the fire marshal will be free that day.

Hughes’ competitor, L.D. Conley, runs three nightclubs on Thomas, including CC Blues Club and LD’s Lounge up the street from Hughes. Conley’s Club Pisces is located farther north at 3987 Thomas. All three are painted in green and gold — L.D.’s a Packers fan — and CC features some of the finest exterior artwork anywhere in the city, courtesy of the mysterious itinerant sign painter known as Zorro.

Inside, Conley generously applies an old trick in the nightclub owner’s book: mirrors. They make the club and the crowd look huge.

“At CC,” he says, “I don’t remember a fight being here since I opened. I got rules in my club.”

One of the rules is a minimum age of 28 to enter. “That one helps a lot,” Conley says. “I’ll bend a little for 25, but not under. I know most of my customers.”

On a Saturday night, the MC tells the crowds it’s “grown and sexy.”

Conley opened LD’s Lounge as a restaurant in 1992. He converted the business into a nightclub after selling plate lunches for a while.

Conley opened CC Blues Club in 2002 and has showcased live acts such as Little Milton, Denise LaSalle, Sheba Potts-Wright, J. Blackfoot, and O.B. Buchana.

“You name it, they’ve been here,” he says.

On nights without such big-name entertainment, the house band ably fills in.

Conley says he’s “doing pretty good — making a living,” as a new black stretch limousine with gold embossed initials “L.D.” on its doors idles in the parking lot behind the club.

Conley plans to expand on CC Blues Club, which attracts a clientele from throughout the tri-state area. “Most of them are black, but I get a lot of mixed people from Beale Street, too. They ask [around] about blues clubs, and somebody down there sends them to CC.”

Conley recognizes similarities between Beale and Thomas and would like to see more.

Justin Fox Burks

“I wish they would do Thomas like they do Beale, so we could stay open all night,” he says. “Back in the 1960s, Thomas was Beale Street. We had more clubs and cafes.”

Colorful characters like Eugenia and Cadillac Willy ran neighborhood joints, while Johnnie Currie’s Club Tropicana hosted big-name rhythm and blues acts. Conley distinguishes a nightclub from a juke joint by the class of the building and sees his place continuing the Thomas Street tradition of Club Tropicana and the Manhattan Club, bringing upscale entertainment to a fine venue with “no spit-buckets on the floor.”

“I like to make people happy and see people enjoy themselves,” Conley says.

Unlike Beale in the 1960s, the locals on Thomas today see development — it’s not called urban renewal anymore — headed their way, and they hope it arrives. Beale businessman Robert Henry, who died in 1978 after the Memphis Housing Authority’s bulldozers plowed the street of his dreams, commented in the late 1960s that what Beale really needed was “urban re-old-al.”

Like Warren Lewis, though, L.D. Conley welcomes the possibility that their section of Thomas Street might see Uptown develop farther north.

“I wish we could get this street looking like down where the projects were [Danny Thomas Boulevard], with a median strip with trees and lightposts,” Conley says.

“I wish it would come all the way up Thomas Street. That would be nice. We would be another Beale Street.”