Unearthed: Memphis

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story, the Tale of the Memphis U.S. Marine Hospital.  The year was 1798 and President Adams decreed there needed to be a hospital for the sick, injured, and disabled maritime men. This Marine Hospital cared for the seamen who worked on the Mississippi River. Unfortunately, the original plot of land, in Napoleon Arkansas, washed away when the river changed course and the new hospital was built in Fort Pickering, south of Memphis in 1884.It consisted of a stable, two wards, the surgeon's house, nurses' quarters, and an executive building. This hospital was the city's first federally-funded public health facility and the only government hospital in the area at that time. It remained so until after WWI. Not only did the hospital treat those who worked the river, it also served Civil War Veterans and Yellow Fever victims. The hospital played a vital role in trying to find a cure for Yellow Fever.  Be sure to come back for season three which is all about Yellow Fever and learn why this sickness had such an impact on our city and why we wanted to find a cure.  In the 1930s, the Works Progress Administration built a new hospital building on the site, moving the remaining original buildings 300 feet to the west. Over the years, the facility was used by the Coast Guard, active military, public health officials, cadets from state maritime activities, Army Corps of Engineers, and government employees injured in the line of duty.  The hospital closed in the 1960s and part of the grounds were leased to the Metal Museum in 1979. As recently as the 1990s, the grounds were used to house Desert Storm soldiers. Sadly, the hospital sat derelict until a developer decided to purchase the buildings and land in 2003. It wasn't until almost 20 years later that anything was done with it after that.  So what about the spooky parts? So a little history as to what happened in the area now known as French Fort.  Battles of the Civil War raged along the Mississippi River in the area around where the Marine Hospital was to sit. The Confederate army set up camp in the area and turned one of the ceremonial mounds into an artillery bunker. The Union army then quickly overtook the area and turned it into a camp.Battles mean tragic death and tragic death generally means restless spirits.  Since its inception, over 100,000 soldiers were treated at the hospital and 40,000 died there. There were also over 10,000 deaths from Yellow Fever.  So it's fair to say, from all the death that occured on the land as well as in the hospital itself, there is bound to be some paranormal activity.  We watched an episode of Ghost Asylum for research and while it was a little campy, what ghost hunting show isn't, they seemed to get a lot of evidence of spirit activity.  Supposedly, a civil war soldier by the name of Henry Wood haunts the second floor of the hospital, wandering the hallways.Maybe he was a soldier killed in battle and couldn't find his way home. Or maybe he was a former soldier that was treated at the hospital but succumbed to an illness and since he was well cared for at the hospital, he just stuck around.  There was also a presence felt in the basement. One of the investigators was talking to the spirits and he felt something pass behind him. The basement housed the morgue, which assuredly is haunted. Or at least I think it would be. All of the lives that were lost passed through that room. But there was also something more strange down there, cages. The cages were apparently used for keeping the yellow fever victims separated.  They cleaned up the recordings from the basement investigations and when one of the guys asked, “did they keep you in here to die”, they heard a response saying something along the lines of “kept us caged”, indicating that they did cage them in to die.  I'm not really sure what they thought a cage would do,

It's April, 1865… The Sultana has been docked in Vicksburg, MS, preparing to load far more passengers than the steamer is equipped to hold. The passengers are almost entirely Union soldiers who are being paroled from the Cahaba or Andersonville Confederate prison camps, in which they have experienced hellish living conditions - not to mention already having experienced the unimaginable horrors of battle.  The Sultana's chief engineer, Nathan Wintringer, has learned from a local boilermaker R.G. Taylor that substantial repair needs to happen to one of the steamer's boilers, and Taylor refuses to sign off on its departure from Vicksburg until the necessary repairs have been made. Wintringer finally convinces Taylor to only patch the boiler, with the promise that the full repair will be done when the steamer is finally docked in St. Louis.  The steamer is hastily being prepped for its journey north, skipping over pretty much anything that might make the journey comfortable for its passengers, and orders are being delivered to load all of the 1,400 passengers presumed to be awaiting transport, which will severely overload the steamer. This order comes, in part, from an attempt at personal monetary gain, and part from misinformation passed along about the actual number of potential passengers present at that time in Vicksburg. The federal government was offering to pay $5 per enlisted man and $10 per officer for any vessel willing to transport the parolees up the Mississippi on their way back home. Colonel Ruben Hatch - Chief Quartermaster of the Union Army in Vicksburg, promised J. Cass Mason - Captain of the Sultana, as many paroled prisoners as he could supply, presumably in exchange for a cut of the profits. Hatch already had a sordid history in regards to accepting kickbacks and bribes during his time in service, and would eventually be relieved of his duties for that exact thing.  Captains George Williams and Frederic Speed seemed to be determined to expedite the Sultana's passenger loading by whatever means necessary, but their haste had a cost. Bedrolls, wrapped together with personal care items, were meant to be distributed to each paroled prisoner loaded onto the Sultana. This process was started, but quickly seen as something that might delay the steamer's loading and departure, risking their personal monetary gain. Since the bedrolls were not prepared ahead of time, they were not able to use the distribution of those items as a gauge of how many people had been loaded onto the steamer. This is not the sole reason for the overloading of the Sultana - no, THAT was a volatile mixture of greed, incompetence, and negligence - but this certainly contributed. So, finally the Sultana is fully loaded, or rather - OVERloaded, and powered by compromised boilers, prepared to depart from Vicksburg. This steamer, with its maximum passenger capacity of fewer than 400, was now carrying around 2,500 passengers - most of them paroled prisoners of war. More than a few times, opportunities arose for them to pass off some of their passengers to other steamers that left the Vicksburg docks at less than capacity - opportunities which were tragically passed up for personal gain.  The prisoners aboard the Sultana were in great spirits upon departing Vicksburg, thinking they were out of harm's way - many of them singing songs, dancing, laughing, and sharing with each other the many things that they were going to do upon their arrival at their homes. Their spirits were not dampened, even by the limited rations of hard bread and salted meat they were given to eat aboard the vessel. When Captain Mason ordered a stop at Helena, Arkansas to bring on more supplies, a photographer who was stunned by the massive number of people aboard the Sultana, took a very famous photograph of the steamer. When the passengers noticed their picture being taken, many of them rushed to the side of the vessel in an attempt to participate in the photo.

If you were to mention the word “Titanic” to a random stranger today, and asked them to tell you what that word means to them, there's a very high chance that you would get one of the following responses from them…  That Celine Dion song that was overplayed to death...“I'm the king of the world”“Paint me like one of your French girls”There was totally room for Jack on that plank of wood, and Rose basically caused his death...Ooooorrrr, big boat that hit an iceberg, and due to arrogance and poor planning, lots of dead folks  The point is, people would know that it had something to do with the deadliest maritime disaster that they are probably aware of. Well, little do they know that there was another water vessel tragedy that was even more deadly than the Titanic.  On April 27th, 1865, the SS Sultana floated north on the Mississippi River loaded with almost 2300 passengers, many of which were Union soldiers that were recently liberated from Confederate prison camps. At approximately 2:00 in the morning, the recklessly overloaded SS Sultana exploded just north of Memphis, Tennessee, becoming the worst maritime disaster in US history. Side note, since I was curious and looked it up… the deadliest maritime disaster in world history was the wartime sinking of the German military transport ship, the Wilhelm Gustloff during WWII, by a Soviet sub. This disaster had an estimated loss of around 9,400 people. Jeez… Nine thousand four hundred people…  Anyway, I thought that was interesting…  and really SAD.  So…  on with the story. The SS Sultana was a paddle steamer, built in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was built originally for Captain Preston Lodwick, at a price of $60,000, and launched on January 3rd, 1863.  The name “Sultana” is derived from the original Arabic word for a wife, mother, or sister of a sultan. Just as a little superstition side-note, this name was not exactly attached to good maritime fortune…  three other ships had been made before this one with the same name. All three previous ships were destroyed in accidents. This was not connected to a common builder or designer or anything of the sort. It was merely a coincidence. The Sultana was one of the largest business steamers ever built for its time. It was 260 feet in length, with a 42 foot beam (that's the width at its widest point), and had a hold that went 7 feet deep. Its weight was registered at 1,719 tons. The steamer held a regular route between New Orleans and St. Louis as a trade vessel. The steamer had a carry capacity of 1,000 tons, making it ideal for transporting trade cargo. In addition to the cargo area, it could accommodate 76 cabin passengers and 300 deck passengers. So, that means that its largest capacity for passenger transport, with all safety measures in place, would be 376 passengers. Keep those numbers in mind… At that time, however, the Sultana only had two lifeboats and 76 life preservers, as it was only set up to carry cargo, not passengers.  On the deck of the Sultana were four high-pressure tubular boilers, measuring 18 feet in length  and 46 inches in diameter. These boilers were smaller and lighter than the boilers found on conventional steamers, but were made to produce steam more efficiently. The Sultana's engines powered two water wheels that were each 34 feet in diameter, which were mounted on the sides of the steamer. The cabin of the steamer featured a long, narrow saloon, lined on each side by a row of staterooms. Each stateroom was luxuriously-furnished, and the saloon was stocked with fine china and glassware.  The vast majority of the passengers aboard the Sultana on its last trip up the Mississippi were Union soldiers that had been captured in battle by the Confederacy, but as the war was coming to a close, they were now being paroled from the Cahaba, AL and Andersonville, GA prison camps. Most of them had seen horrific carnage on the battlefield, but even still,

Hey everyone and welcome back to Unearthed Memphis! I'm Alan and I'm Tara We hope you enjoyed our last episode about Memphis Hoodoo and the St. Paul Spiritual Holy Temple. I did! I'm still googling things about it. It's just so fascinating!  We even got a facebook thank you from the Secret History of Memphis Hoodoo Author, Tony Kail,  for mentioning his book.  Admittedly, I got a little low key excited. Haha! After I read the comment, I looked at his Facebook page and  found out there is a conjuring shop on Summer Ave. We're going to have to check them out soon! In our last episode, we talked about the Elmwood Cemetery Cinema Event. Well, we went and it was fantastic. The first film they showed was a filmed version of this year's Soul of the City tour. Since we missed it, I'm glad we got to see the film. The actors did a great job, as always. Hopefully next year we won't have quite so much going on and we can make it to the tour.  Then we watched the original 1922 version of Nosferatu. I hadn't ever seen it all the way through.  And I hadn't seen it since college, so my memory of it is a little foggy.  Turns out, it was far more comedic that I remembered. Being that it is a silent film, there are title pages and subtitles (at least in this version) and some of them linger over multiple scenes. Tara took the most amazing picture of one of those scenes. We previously posted it on our social media, but we'll add it to this page for your viewing pleasure. It's still making me laugh thinking about it.  The stage makeup and exaggerated expressions made for some entertaining moments as well. But it really was a great film for its time, a truly classic horror film that I think everyone should watch. But I am glad technology progressed like it has.  Alright, I know what you're thinking… yall, two episodes in one month, don't tease us!  I know, but it's spooky season and we wanted to get in a little more spooky before the month was over.  So, we thought we'd do some Halloween shorts. We found a few stories that didn't have quite enough info for a standalone episode, but we didn't want to not tell them.  We want to give a shout out to another great local author, Laura Cunningham. She has two books, Haunted Memphis and The Ghostly Tales of Memphis, that we used for some of our research. Definitely check them out.  The first story is about Claude Pugh and the Court Square Fountain.  A little backstory on Court Square. The park is located between Main and Second Streets at Court Avenue. The plan for the park was to have the courthouse built in it, but no courthouse was ever built there. The park, however, has existed there since the early 1800s and it did eventually become home to the first school house.  The Court Square fountain was built in 1876. Hebe, the Greek mythology cupbearer to the gods, stands tall atop the fountain. The Hebe Fountain, as it is actually called, is cast iron, 20 feet tall, and weighs about 7000 lbs. Originally, the basin of the fountain was 6.5 feet deep and filled with fish, turtles, and allegedly, an alligator at one time. It also had no fence around it. Clearly a safe place to be. Nothing bad could possibly happen... Noooo… nothing bad at all...I don't know about you, but if there were no sea creatures in it, that sounds like a great place to go swimming! Or get tetanus... Well, in 1884, a 10 year old little boy named Claude Pugh was possibly thinking the same thing… swimming, not tetanus. While sitting on the edge playing with his toy boat, he leaned over too far and fell in. Apparently, algae coated the stones in the fountain and little Claude couldn't get his footing. After struggling to stay afloat, I'm guessing he couldn't swim, he went under and never came back up. According to The Memphis Daily Appeal, the park was full of people but no one went to help save him. The paper was not afraid to put those folks on blast.

Since it's spooky season, I thought we could talk a little about a Memphis urban legend… What do you think is one of the most well known urban legends? I'd probably say, Voodoo Village.  That's exactly what I was thinking. And I think pretty much everyone who grew up here or has lived here for any amount of time has heard about or even ventured out to the community known to locals as Voodoo Village. So what are some of the rumors you've heard about this place? I've heard that when you drive there, they pull a school bus behind your car so you can't leave. They come out and chase you with bats and machetes. There are dead animals hanging from trees. There are weird yard art objects and masonic and voodoo symbols all around the property. It's all just very strange and spooky.  I've heard all those things too, and even believed them for a very long time. Admittedly, I was too freaked out to actually go all the way there to see for myself. I believe it was my friend Neeraj and I who ventured that way late one night, but we eventually turned around and came home.  But years later, I had read a little about the so called “Voodoo Village” and learned it was actually called St. Paul's Spiritual Holy Temple. I have also read it as St. Peter's, but I do believe it's St. Paul's.  As it turns out, the history behind St. Paul's is more complicated than we thought. To understand it, we have to start with Memphis's beginnings. But I promise we'll get back to it.  Most of the information I got for this episode was from a book by Tony Kail called, appropriately, “A Secret History of Memphis Hoodoo”. This really is a fantastic book. It's informative and a quick read. It made me want to dig deeper into the subject, thus this episode's topic. It's a really cool book. I suggest checking it out. You can find it in the local section at Novel. Memphis is known by many names. The Bluff City. The Home of the Blues. The Birthplace of Rock n Roll. The Cotton Capital of the World. The BBQ Capital of the World. But it's also called Mojo City.  The word “mojo” comes from an object used within the practice of Hoodoo. Memphis's Hoodoo history is not extremely well known or frankly understood, that is of course, unless you're actually in the know.  So we started this episode talking about voodoo and now we're talking about hoodoo. What is the difference? Voodoo (Vodou), meaning spirit, is considered a religion or religious practice. It is similar to Hoodoo, and in one video I watched, it said that Hoodoo was born out of Voodoo. It was brought from Africa, through Haiti, and then to America during the slave trade. It is a blend of Catholicism and African cultural and traditional beliefs. The type of voodoo we are going to be talking about for this episode is what is generally practiced in New Orleans.  There is structure and hierarchy in Voodoo. There is one God, but they do not interfere with life. But there are numerous spirits that do, and they call these spirits Loa or Lwa. Each Loa has its own area of life that it is responsible for, for example agriculture or money. Practitioners connect with these spirits when they need their assistance.  There are priestesses and priests in Voodoo. A popular Voodoo priestess was Marie Laveau. She made a name for herself by helping people from all walks of life in New Orleans. She was a hairdresser by day, but her other “side hustle” was to help people achieve their desires through her voodoo practice. She was known to help black, white, rich and poor people.  And even in her death, she is still helping people. There is a rumor that if you make a wish on her grave, and your wish comes true, you owe her a present. I, admittedly, made a wish on her tomb, and while it took some years, that wish did come true. So I actually owe her a present the next time we're in New Orleans. I'm sure many people have heard of this famous Voodoo Priestess.

This episode came from an idea in a book I saw at Novel, our wonderful locally owned and operated bookstore. While browsing in the Local Memphis section, I saw this book, “Memphis Castles - Former Homes and Stories of Prominent Memphians.” And as I was flipping through the pages, I saw my sister's house. I immediately took a picture and sent it to her and she was extremely excited her house was something special. And I was jealous.  So why is her home special?  Well, it was once owned by a man named Lorenzo Pacini, an immigrant from Valdottavo, Italy. He arrived in Memphis in 1887, after hearing stories his father told about the city. His father, Amanze, had been through Memphis in the 1840s and described it as a grand, romantic place. Lorenzo knew he had to go to Memphis. So, after he got out of the Italian army, he made his way here.  Lorenzo Pacini When Pacini arrived in Memphis, he needed a job, like ya do. And he found one at Pee Wee's Saloon on Beale Street.  Fun fact, the sign outside Pee Wee's said P. Wee's because the sign man misspelled it.  Pee Wee's was owned by Vigelio (I've also read Virgillo or Virgelio or Vigello) Maffei, a man who stood about 4.5 feet tall, nicknamed Pee Wee. He arrived in Memphis from Italy, via New York City in the 1870s. He started out working as a bartender at the Gallina Exchange. Let's tangent to the Gallina Exchange Building for a moment.  Charles Gallina was a 31 year old judge in Shelby County with a love of horse racing. Apparently, he won so much money betting on horses, he decided to use that money to build a magnificent building on Beale Street. The three story building would house a saloon and gambling hall, a second floor courtroom, a 20 room hotel, and his family would occupy the third floor. The saloon was open 24/7, so patrons could have fun all day and night. The business thrived for years but eventually, Gallina would pass away and the building would go to family members. When it was sold, it became various shops until a fire broke out and destroyed the inside. And then a windstorm took down all but the front. You can now find the facade of the Gallina Exchange Building, supported by metal beams, outside of Silky O'Sullivans.  Gallina Exchange then and now Alright, back to PeeWee… according to legend, he started out with only a dime in his pocket and managed to gamble his way to make enough money to open his own saloon in 1884. The original location was the corner of Hernando and Beale, but eventually moved to 317 Beale. Naming the saloon after himself, Pee Wee's was THE hangout for musicians and gamblers at the time, as it was also open 24/7.  Along with the actual bar up front, in the back there were billiards and card and dice tables, as well as a cigar stand. Even though most saloons on Beale had gambling, there were still periodic raids by the police. In an effort to protect themselves, Pee Wee set up a warning system. He had a front doorman who was a lookout with a buzzer under his shirt. If they saw anyone suspected of being the fuzz, they alerted the staff. He also had men that played dominos all day watching out as a backup. Pee Wee's was, in fact, raided one time, but they ended up letting everyone off the hook.  After Pacini had worked for Pee Wee for a while, he found his way into the family business by marrying Pee Wee's daughter (I've also read sister, but it makes more sense that it was his daughter) and he ended up running the saloon with his brother Angelo. Eventually, Pee Wee headed back to Italy in 1913 and he let the brothers continue his legacy.  Originally called Beal Avenue (Beal without the ‘e”), what we now know as Beale Street, was created in 1841 by Robertson Topp, a former military man. The west end of the street had merchant shops and the east end was residential. The middle part of the street was where you'd find the saloons and brothels, some venues more seedier than others,

We have to thank a supporter/friend that we've yet to meet, Jerry, who sent us kind of a suggestion for this topic. On one of his daily walks, he took a picture of a plaque on the side of the Evergreen Theatre. It was commemorating the 1969 Miss Memphis Review pageant. Having not ever heard of this, we decided we'd investigate and thus it became our Pride Month episode. The Miss Memphis Review, which later came to be known as the Miss Gay Memphis, began as a protest to the city ordinance that banned crossdressing. But let's take a step back in time to talk about the aforementioned theatre location before we get to the pageant. The current Evergreen Theatre has gone through a few owners and name changes over the years. We'll start at the beginning, in 1927 (or 1928), the Ritz Theatre was built as a 900 seat movie theatre. It showed mainstream films and foreign films. It remained so until around 1955, when there was a fire and it was damaged. When rebuilt, it became known as the Memphis Guild Art Theatre. It was still showing foreign films but by the 60s, when Bill Kendall began running it, the shows became a little edgier.  The Guild Theatre showed what people would consider arthouse films. They were foreign films, LGBTQ films, and other films the city considered illegal “smut”. Kendall was known for bringing eccentric movies to his theatres, he had another theatre on Highland that had midnight showings of the most controversial films, actual gay films. The flamboyant cinephile was even indicted on several indecency charges, luckily they were eventually dropped.  Bill Kendall So who was William “Bill” Kendall? Well, we know he was born in Memphis and attended Southwestern College, which is now Rhodes. He was also a WWII veteran.   I can only imagine what it would be like to be a gay soldier during WWII. According to a Memphis Flyer article, he was unafraid to be loud and proud about being gay.  When Kendall managed the Guild, it became, as he called it, a safe space for self expression. Clearly, he was not afraid to show movies that were considered controversial. When he showed “I Spit on Your Grave”, it caused “one of the most hotly contested obscenity cases in Memphis.”  I've not ever seen that movie, so I looked up the plot to see what all the hubbub was about. That being said, look up the 1959 film, not the 70s film because that is a waaaay different story.  According to the TMC website this is the synopsis of the film...  Joe Grant is a vengeful light-skinned black man who leaves Memphis (MS) and moves to a small town in New Jersey after his brother is brutally lynched for attempting to marry a white woman. Joe's skin is so light that he is able to pass himself off as Caucasian and find work in a local bookstore. To get revenge on white society, Joe seduces a rich young white girl and then plots her death. At the same time, Joe discovers that the bookstore where he works is a front for an extortion ring. A short time passes and he finds himself falling in love with the girl. She too loves him until she learns that he is of African descent. Knowing this complicates matters (she is engaged to another man), but loving him just the same, she suggests they run away together to avoid the blackmailers. After Joe is beaten by the blackmailers, he decides this is a good idea and together the lovers flee. Back in town, the girls enraged fiance organizes a posse loudly claiming that Joe has abducted the girl and plans to rape her. Tragedy ensues just as the fugitive lovers are about to cross the Mason-Dixon Line. It doesn't seem too scandalous to me, but the 60s were a different time. So in an odd twist of events, the outcome of showing this movie did, however, put an end to Tennessee's obscenity law that had been in place for 106 years. Guess they didn't think it too scandalous either.  Ok, so back to the theatre and Mr. Kendall stirring up some “good trouble”.

So today we’re going to cover a topic that hits really close to home for us…  and by that, we mean that it helps to literally pay for us to live in our home. We are, of course, talking about a place of employment. We are both gainfully employed by fantastic, privately-owned, local companies that have rather long histories. And both companies are hitting huge milestones this year and next. Memphis Dermatology, where Tara works, will hit 50 years this next year… That’s an amazing achievement for any privately-owned business! I’m sure you’ll hear us talk more about them in the future. Tara has been with them for 13 years now, so it’s a regular topic in our conversations anyway.  Alan’s place of employment for the past 16 years, Amro Music Store hit a gigantic milestone this past month. And that is the topic of our episode!  As of April 10th of this year, Amro Music has been open, and owned and operated by the same family, for one hundred years! Wow… such an amazing accomplishment!  We went to their 100 year celebration a few weekends back and it was a lot of fun. It’s amazing to me when companies are able to withstand the test of time. Someone is doing something right. One of the reasons we try to mostly buy local is because most local companies give back to their communities and Amro is no exception. From what I know, as a previous band kid, and what I have heard from other band parents and children, if you want to be taken care of, you go to Amro. They are a pillar in the Midsouth music community. Amro Music is the largest band, orchestra, and piano retailer in the Mid-South, and is actually one of the largest in the nation as well. They began renting musical instruments for student use more than 50 years ago, and they now supply a large majority of the band and orchestra instruments found in school programs in the Mid-South. Amro is widely respected for its long history of service to music education and Mid-South musicians, the high quality of its employees, its involvement in and assistance to the local music community, and its long-term stability as a business. Amro is also one of the most prominent piano retailers in the Mid-South, providing pianos and organs for both rental and purchase, with a highly qualified team of experts to help people find the perfect instrument for their home or institution. Amro has also been a Steinway & Sons piano dealer since 1964. Being a Steinway dealer is a big deal…  not every dealer gets to represent Steinway pianos. They’re the only concert piano manufacturer whose products are still handmade in the United States.  And didn’t Steinway make a fancy 100 year celebratory piano for y’all to have in your showroom? They did! I think that’s pretty cool…they must like you guys a lot... So how does a company that serves so many communities, take care of all of those customers? Well, Amro has 8 educational representatives, many of whom have formal music education training and years of teaching experience, that regularly visit most of the schools in the mid-south. They provide support for the band and orchestra programs within their respective territories, providing advice, product support, and basically anything else to make sure that the students and directors have everything they need to succeed in their instrumental music learning and teaching efforts. They are an amazing resource for both new and seasoned music educators. Additionally, an in-store team of band and orchestra experts, known as Director Services (this is what I (Alan) do at Amro) act as a music educator call center to provide support for school music educators, as well as the Amro educational representatives (so the ed reps can spend more time out in the field actively helping school music programs, and not have to deal with smaller details, which are way more difficult to deal with from a vehicle). I know being a teacher can be stressful, so I imagine band directors and other music educato...

Most Memphians will agree on one fact about their home city. Memphis has great tasting water. The water supply in Memphis comes from natural reservoirs hundreds of feet below the ground, and most of that water lies in sand aquifers that sit between layers of clay. The sand acts as a natural filter, slowly removing many of the water’s impurities. While all water contains at least small levels of contaminants, Memphis water has very low levels of fluoride, nitrate, lead, and copper.  According to a Memphis Light Gas & Water report from 2015, there’s actually no detectable lead at all in Memphis’s source water. The water is so pure when it comes from the wells that it only has to be aerated to eliminate iron and dissolved gasses. After that, it is filtered, chlorinated, and fluoridated. I’m realizing that “filtered, chlorinated, and fluoridated” sounds like something that happens to hashbrowns at the worst Waffle House restaurant in existence. “Scattered, smothered, and covered” sounds way better…  and I think that’s also a Hootie and the Blowfish album. The addition of fluoride and chlorine is a legal requirement for public drinking water, so that our teeth don’t rot out of our heads. Because the layers of clay protect it, groundwater from Memphis is ideal for many industrial uses. And it also makes some really great beer…  It also makes for really great tasting distilled spirits, but that’s a subject for a later episode. Don’t worry, we’ll get there. We’re very much looking forward to doing “research” on how good bourbon tastes when it’s made from Memphis water.  So, brewing in Memphis began in 1877, when G.H. Herbers organized the “Memphis Brewing Company,” located at the intersection of Tennessee and Butler streets in Downtown Memphis. In 1890, the brewery was acquired by J.W. Schorr, Casper Koehler, and the brewery was expanded to the structure that stands today. The name was then changed to “Tennessee Brewing Company,” and they began using water from Memphis’s naturally-filtered sand aquifer to produce their beer.  The first beer that was marketed by Tennessee Brewing was a Pilsner, but at that time, most breweries did not name their beers - they were known by their type instead. Ads from around 1890 list the brewery’s offerings as Pilsener, Export, Tennessee Pale, Bavarian, and Budweiser (which must have been a reference to the Bohemian style of beer made in Budweis in the Czech Republic since the 13th century, not the Budweiser brand name). Employing more than 1,500 workers, and producing more than 250,000 barrels per year, Tennessee Brewing Company became a titan in the brewing industry. By 1903, they had become the largest brewery in the south. Unfortunately, Prohibition took its toll on the Tennessee Brewing Company, closing its doors for more than a decade - but all was not lost. For a couple of years, the brewery tried to stay open acting as an icehouse and by brewing and bottling a drink called “NIB,” which stood for Non-Intoxicating Beverage. If you’ve ever tasted O’Douls or any of the other “near beer” beverages, you’ll understand why that didn’t work out for them. They’re kinda gross. When Prohibition ended, and producers of alcoholic beverages were given the greenlight to reopen, John Schorr, the son of J.W. Schorr, got the brewery back up and running at full capacity. Their best-selling beer for many years was called “Goldcrest,” and in 1938 it was renamed “Goldcrest 51” to honor more than 51 years of success in the industry. Goldcrest was a bottled beer until 1947, when they switched to cans. (and Tara grumbles...)  The Tennessee Brewing Company closed its doors for the last time in 1954. The building remained vacant for just more than 50 years, when it was bought by a developer to keep it from suffering the wrath of the wrecking ball. That would have been a sad thing, if that would have happened. It’s such a beautiful building. 

Opening in the 1890s, the Bon Ton Cafe has been operating in some form or fashion in downtown Memphis. Apparently the cafe was originally a saloon in the late 1800s, but was then turned into a restaurant in 1904. Tony Angleos and Charlie Skinner, two cousins who immigrated from Greece, opened the first manifestation of the Bon Ton Cafe, called The Hole in the Wall. This eatery was located behind the original location of the Peabody Hotel on Monroe. In 1923, the cousins renamed and reopened the Bon Ton Cafe, as it is known today. Apparently Elvis really liked to visit and perform in the basement. The cousins owned the restaurant for 41 years before selling in 1945.  Now, you’ll notice on the plaque, which will be posted on the website, that it says The Hole in the Wall opened in 1911. But like any good history retelling, dates are going to be a bit dodgy. The Bon Ton Cafe was purchased and reopened in 1950 (or 1945 as I have also read) by the Zambelis family. Mike Zambelis, also a Greek immigrant, took over the cafe and their breakfast and lunch specials have been staples in the downtown community ever since. When Mike passed away in 1998, his son Sam took over the business. Sam kept his father’s legacy alive by running the restaurant exactly like his father did, like a family dining room. Bon Ton was a place where you could get good food and have good conversation, and according to one member of the “Breakfast Club”, a group of people that had been eating breakfast there for decades, it’s a place where they figured out how to “solve the world’s problems, if only anyone would listen”. Sam Zambelis suddenly passed away in 2008 and the restaurant closed for a few years.  In 2011, the Bon Ton Cafe was reopened by Mac Edwards, the previous owner of McEwans. This time, Ewards added dinner to the menu. According to Edwards, breakfast will be nice and sunny, lunch is all business, and dinner will have the lights turned down low for a sexy vibe. You can get a nice, inexpensive dinner, but also high quality spirits. He also wanted to support the local community by providing a farm to table philosophy, buying as much as he could from local vendors.  Currently the Bon Ton Cafe is doing private events and catering. Next up is the actual oldest still operating restaurant in Memphis. This also surprised me because I had always heard it was another restaurant, but we’ll get to that later.   The Little Tea Shop is located at 69 Monroe Ave and is open Monday through Friday, 11am to 2pm. This lunch only cafe is another staple in downtown Memphis.  The Little Tea Shop was opened in 1918 by Lillie Parham and Emily Carpenter. They wanted to have a place where their friends could come get lunch while they were having an outing downtown. The ladies served finger sandwiches and made change out of a shoebox at the front of the shop. Obviously at the time, two women owning and running a business wasn’t terribly common. Originally, the shop was located in the basement of the Memphis Cotton Exchange Building. While the men were upstairs conducting business, their wives could shop downtown and then come in for a light snack and socializing before heading home to do whatever wives of wealthy cotton traders did.  In 1935, the shop was relocated to its current location. It’s said there was no disruption to the service either. After closing time one day, the employees packed everything up and moved it down the street. They were serving lunch the next day like nothing had ever happened.  The ladies sold their shop in 1946 to an amatuer golfer named Vernon Mortimer Bell. Bell had quite the legacy in Memphis. After purchasing the Little Tea Shop, he opened up The Knickerbocker restaurant in East Memphis. He also started the Danver’s food chains. Years later, his daughter Sara opened Mortimer’s on Perkins off Sam Cooper. He, along with Danny Thomas, helped found what was to become the FedEx/ St. Jude Golf Classic.

The spot that is now occupied by Earnestine and Hazel’s at 531 South Main St was once the exact opposite of what it was to become in the future. In the late 1800s, it was built as a church, complete with fancy doors and a steeple. The area that the corner building occupies was considered “South Memphis”. It was a residential area that remained so until the early 1900s, when the railroad was built. South Memphis opened two new train stations and 50 passenger cars would come through every day. At that point, the area became able to support businesses. Sadly, the church burned down some time in the early 1900s. I couldn’t find an exact date, but the assessor's office lists the current building’s date as 1918. That year, a new building was erected, the same one you see today, and it was purchased by Abe Plough and turned into one of his Pantaze Drugstores.  Abe Plough is a name synonymous with Memphis. In 1908, he borrowed $125 from his father and started his own business, Plough Chemical Company. He pedaled his “antiseptic healing oil”, that he created in a room above his father’s shop, to the drug stores in and around Memphis. His patent medicine took off and within a couple of years he doubled his profits.  Side note: patent medicines are basically ones that marketed as medicines, but have no proven effectiveness. They are protected by trademarks but their ingredients are generally not completely disclosed. You’ll often hear them referred to as “tonics” or “elixirs”. With his additional money, Plough found his way into the cosmetics and sunscreen business and eventually acquired St. Joseph’s Aspirin brand. Over the next 100 years, Plough Inc became a multi-million dollar company, partnering with Schering Company. Schering Plough and the Plough Foundation became a major philanthropic entity in Memphis.  But let’s rewind. Plough opened Pantaze Drugstores in the 1930s. Apparently Pantaze were the Walgreens of its day. There were 7 Pantaze drug stores on Main St and in the downtown area. It was during his time owning Pantaze that Plough started to expand his brand and continued on to find his fame.  Now in the building on S. Main, Plough only used the bottom floor of the building for his pharmacy/sundry store, so he rented the upstairs to two beauticians, Earnestine Mitchell and Hazel Jones.  Side note: a sundry is basically a general store that sells miscellaneous items One of the products that Plough had made was a hair straightening product and it worked quite well. Not only did the ladies use it in their salon, it was also being used all over the eastern part of the country. With Plough’s success and new found fortune, he gave (or I've also heard sold for a very inexpensive price) the building to Earnestine and Hazel. This transaction occurred some time in the 1950s, from what I can tell.  Having no interest in running a sundry, the ladies decided to turn the downstairs area into a jazz cafe. Earnestine’s husband, Andrew, who went by the name of Sunbeam, opened a venue nearby for musicians, called Club Paradise. This was not the first business venture of Sunbeam Mitchell though. Throughout his years as a promoter, Mitchell had opened several music venues, a restaurant, and even a hotel for African Americans, which were scarce in those times. Earnestine kept the books and ran the hotel.  The Mitchells and Plough were not strangers to each other either. One of Sunbeam’s music venues (Club Handy) and the Mitchell hotel were on the second and third floors of the Pantaze Drugs, which again was owned by Plough, on Beale St. (Wet Willie’s currently occupies this building.)  Club Paradise was the largest and most prestigious nightclub in Memphis. It could hold up to 3200 people. Numerous acts such as locals Bobby Blue Bland, BB King, Howlin Wolf, and Muddy Waters played there, as well as big named acts Ike & Tina Turner, Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddly, & Sam Cook.

“The day of our wedding was set, and then not all the powers in the world could have separated us. It was our intention to leave here and go to St. Louis, and I would have been Freda’s slave. I would have devoted my whole life to making her happy---But when Freda returned my engagement ring, it broke my heart. It was the most cruel thing I have ever suffered. I could not bear the idea of being separated from her, whom I loved more dearly than my life. I wrote to her and implored her to not to break off the engagement, but my letters availed nothing. I could not bear to think of her living in the company of others. Then, indeed, I resolved to kill Freda because I loved her so much that I wanted her to die loving me, and when she did die, I know she loved me better than any other human being on earth. I got my father’s razor and made up my mind to kill Freda, and now I know she is happy.” - Alice Mitchell Alice Mitchell was born November 26, 1872, in Memphis, to George and Isabella Mitchell, a relatively well off family. “Uncle George”, as he was called, was a partner in the furniture business, Mitchell and Bryson. Her mother, Isabella, was a homemaker with a somewhat sordid past of her own. After her first child was born, Isabella was committed to the mental ward for melancholia. The doctor diagnosed her with puerperal insanity, a “derangement or unstable state brought about by childbirth”.  She stayed in the hospital for 2 months before “recovering”, only to find out that her child had died while she was away. While her mind became “unbalanced” again,  she managed to pull herself out of it for fear that she would be committed again.  Isabella had 7 children, but only 4 survived until adulthood. Her mental instability, supposedly, worsened with each birth. Alice was the last of Isabella’s children.  As a child, Alice was not the typical girl of that time period. She did not enjoy needlepoint and sewing. Alice preferred swinging, climbing, marbles and tops, sports, and shooting rifles. She didn’t prefer the company of boys in the way most girls did. She was often rude to them, except for her brother with whom she spent time playing. She didn’t fare well in school, her teachers believed her to be “badly balanced” and she lacked the desire to read books or newspapers. Alice was “handsome” with hazel eyes and light brown hair, but she was never the fancy of the boys, they regarded her as mentally wrong.  Alice was sent to the Higbee School for Young Ladies, as were many girls of well to do families. This is where she met Freda Ward. Freda, the tall, slender, blond haired, blue eyed girl was opposite of Alice in many ways...passionate, enjoyed music, and studious.  Frederica “Freda” Ward was born March 5, 1874 to Thomas and Cornelia Ward. Thomas was a machinist at a fertilizer company. Besides Freda, the Ward’s had three other children.  Unfortunately, Cornelia passed away in 1882. Thomas, Freda, and Jo stayed in Memphis for a while as Freda and Jo went to school, but some years later, they moved to Golddust, TN, about 80 miles north of Memphis, where the eldest married daughter, Ada, lived. Thomas became a merchant and planter, where he made a decidedly better living than in Memphis. His eldest daughter became like a mother to Freda.  So let’s go back a bit, before the Wards moved away... Alice and Freda’s relationship began during their stay at Higbee’s. It was not uncommon, at that time, for young girls to act fondly towards each other. Kissing, hugging, and walking arm in arm was called  “chumming” and was thought to be a girls training for their future relationships with their husbands. But Alice and Freda’s relationship was different. Alice felt a connection to Freda like she would a connection to a man.  Freda appeared to have shared Alice’s affections, but somewhat less strongly. As it turns out, Alice fell in love with Freda, obsessively so, and they spent all their time at school together...

The Orpheum we see today is not actually the original building. The original theater was not even called “The Orpheum” - that name wouldn’t appear on the front of the building until 1907. The original theater, built in 1890 on the southwest corner of Main and Beale, was known as the Grand Opera House. It was well known among theater-goers, and it was touted as the fanciest theater outside of New York City. It was managed by Frank Gray, a gentleman that had come up in theater, beginning his career as an usher. Mr. Gray was well-respected in the theater community for reliably booking only the best shows available, and was even nicknamed the “Dean of Southern Theater Managers.”  Grand Opera House In 1899, the Grand Opera House was purchased by John D. Hopkins, already a theater owner in St. Louis and Chicago, who had a background in vaudeville and minstrel shows. The theater was renamed Hopkins Grand Opera. Hopkins immediately began making improvements to the theater, replacing the gas lamps with electric lighting and brightening the drab interior even further by repainting it in grey and gold. Even though vaudeville was the theater’s main focus, they also hosted more refined acts such as the great French stage actor, Sarah Bernhardt, during one of her world tours. Unfortunately, sophisticated acts like Sarah Bernhardt merely acted as a facade for some of Hopkins’s seedier dealings. He was involved in a lawsuit around 1906 because of his plan to sublease the theater to the Eastern Burlesque Wheel. This was not a popular idea among the theater community, and Hopkins drew so much harsh criticism that it prompted him to try and sell the theater. He had no such luck until more than a year later, when the theater changed hands to the Orpheum Vaudeville Circuit. Hopkins died, presumably from kidney failure, just more than two years later. In the New York Times’s public announcement about the theater changing hands, a phrase was used to hint at what kind of theater fare the patrons could expect, and also to appeal to a more elite clientele…  this phrase delights me to no end…  After the functional portion of the announcement, telling about renovations and the name change, it says, “Advanced vaudeville will be served.”   So finally we’re in 1907, and we have a theater in Memphis called “The Orpheum.” The theater saw great success with its vaudeville acts for nearly two decades. In 1923, a fire broke out either during, or just after (depending on the source) a striptease performance by the famous singer and recording artist, Blossom Seeley. Blossom is credited with playing a pivotal role in bringing jazz and ragtime to the mainstream in the US. Fortunately, no one was harmed in the fire, but the theater was a total loss - it burned to the ground. Fire of 1923 The site sat dormant for about 4 years, before ground was broken on a new theater, on the foundation of the old building, but the new building was twice as big, with a much more luxurious appearance. The new theater was designed by sibling architects named Cornelius and George Rapp. Their architecture firm, Rapp & Rapp, has quite the list of well-known buildings that they designed… enough so that they deserve for us to briefly tangent into their works.Rapp & Rapp were known to be the foremost designers of early 20th century movie palaces, having designed more than 400 theaters in their time. Here are some of the buildings that were designed by Rapp & Rapp.  The Central Park Theater in New York CityThe Chicago Theater in - well, ChicagoThe Paramount Building in Times Square - that’s the one with the giant four-faced clock on topThe Nederlander Theater in Chicago, formerly known as the Oriental Theater (the name was changed in 2019). And if you know even basic stuff about Chicago history, you might have heard about the devastating fire that happened in the Iroquois theater in 1903 that killed just short of 600 people,

It was August 18, 1920 and America had only secured 35 states that were FOR ratifying the 19th Amendment. Tennessee was the last state that was going to vote and it wasn’t looking good. They called it the “War of the Roses” with pro ratifiers, aka “suffs” donning yellow roses and the antis donning red ones. The suffs were short one vote when a 24 year old representative, Harry T. Burn, with a red rose pinned to his lapel and a letter from his mother in his pocket, voted “aye” in favor of the amendment. His mother, Febb Burn, had sent him a letter stating “Dear Son, … Hurrah and vote for Suffrage and don’t keep them in doubt. With lots of love, Mama.” Harry T. Burn Years later he wrote, “I had always believed that women had an inherent right to vote. It was a logical attitude from my standpoint. My mother was a college woman, a student of national and international affairs who took an interest in all public issues. She could not vote. Yet the tenant farmers on our farm, some of whom were illiterate, could vote. On that roll call, confronted with the fact that I was going to go on record for time and eternity on the merits of the question, I had to vote for ratification.”  Hurrah and vote for suffrage! The Nineteenth Amendment guarantees all American women the right to vote, this included African American women (but unfortunately that part of the fight continued until Jim Crow laws were abolished). The 19th amendment reads, “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.” The amendment was first introduced to Congress in 1878 but it was not ratified until 1920. Tennessee became the “Perfect 36” on Aug 18, 1920 when it became the last state needed to ratify the amendment.  To celebrate the 100 year anniversary of the ratification of the 19th amendment, we’re going to look at some of the early Memphians that helped push for suffrage in America. Their hard work and determination helped further the cause and change the future for all women.  The first on our list are two sisters... Elizabeth Avery Meriwether and her sister in law Lide Smith Meriwether shared a home with their husbands, on Peabody Avenue. The sisters spent their time working together in the fight for women’s rights.  Elizabeth and her husband, Minor,  were quite progressive for their time. Upon their marriage, they signed a contract agreeing to share and invest equally. Elizabeth was one of the South’s first suffragettes and one of the first to publicly push for suffrage. She used her own money, that she received from maintaining properties, to start her own small newspaper, The Tablet, which promoted votes for women in every issue. This paper also voiced its support for equal pay for the sexes and advocated for Ms. Clara Conway to be elected to the school board.  Elizabeth once rented out the The Memphis Theatre, the largest in town, to deliver a public speech on women’s rights. Over 500 women attended and the Memphis Appeal wrote an article on how she “was a worthy advocate of her sex and that she was met with frequent bursts of applause”. In 1872, after hearing that Susan B. Anthony was arrested after attempting to vote, Elizabeth said that she was going to vote in the next Memphis election and if she was arrested, she would gladly share a cell with Miss Anthony. In the next election, she did just that, except she was not arrested. She felt that was due to her status in the community, while some believed her friends were the ones to accept the ballot, but then they threw it away.  During the 1880s, she began to travel with Susan B. Anthony across the country to advocate for women’s voting.  In 1883, Elizabeth, her husband, and children moved to St. Louis to escape the Yellow Fever Epidemic, but still continued her campaigning for women’s rights.  Elizabeth Meriwether Lide Meriwether While her sister in law was away,

Clara Conway was born in New Orleans, LA, August 14, 1844, to poor Irish immigrants, Margaret Riordan Conway and Thomas Conway, who came to America in the early 19th century. (I’ve read she came to Memphis in 1846, that she was brought to Memphis in 1855 when her parents died, but also that she simply moved here in 1864.) She was educated at St. Agnes Academy in Memphis, but primarily studied at home for most of her education. She also did some studying abroad. (Given this information, it would seem the 1855 date would be more accurate.)  Conway began her professional career as a public school teacher. It was said that she “seemed possessed of natural gifts particularly qualifying her for the work of teaching. Her peculiar abilities for imparting knowledge and inspiring to effort all with whom she came in contact were of such rare value as to be quickly recognized.” She became principal for the Alabama Street School and the Market Street School. She was considered an outstanding teacher and was frequently featured in newspapers. She was the first woman to assist in the organizations of teachers’ institutes. In 1873, she was proposed for superintendent of public schools in Memphis, in an effort to have female educators recognized for their merits. She was endorsed by The Memphis Appeal, who wrote: “We are in receipt of several letters from person’s connected with the public school system of Memphis and others who have a direct personal interest in them, advocating for the election of Miss Clara Conway to the position of Superintendent of the Public Schools, and the only reason we have for rejecting them was their length. They all exceeded the limits we have named for correspondence. To the election of Miss Conway to so high and responsible a position we can see no objection. She possesses all the ability requisite for it with the experience of several years as an educator (Clara Conway was Principal of the Alabama Street School for several years.) To the gentleness and refinement of a cultivated lady she invites all the firmness requisite to the director of our schools… We do not know a man in our city who can surpass her in fitness. If Miss Clara Conway will accept the position, she has the hearty support of the Appeal and we hope she will be elected.” The efforts to elect a female superintendent ultimately failed and Miss Conway’s name was not even mentioned in the election. But nevertheless, the call for a female superintendent was a brilliant maneuver, the failure exposed the powerlessness of women to protect their interests as long as they lacked the rights to participate in the electoral process. Over time, Conway found herself becoming more interested in providing women with the ability to have a quality education.  Her study of educational methods inspired within her the desire to establish a system of education for girls which should be based on absolute thoroughness. Her idea was that women should be so taught that, if conditions make self-support necessary, they could fill professional careers.  Conway was the first Southern woman to attend the teachers’ summer school in the North. She recognized the need for a school for girls in Memphis that would offer such educational advantages as those that were offered at the best schools in the North. Conway visited schools in the north for six months in the winter of 1876 for the purpose of making a careful and thorough study of the best modern school systems.In 1877, she left her position in the public school sector and founded a school of higher education for girls, one that would prepare them for economic independence. She believed education would be a woman's liberation. It would be what would prepare them “to take part in the work of the world”. She believed that society had little use for idle helpless women as it did for idle helpless men. She believed independence was one of the highest attributes of womanhood.

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society...I call this story The Tale of Pink Lizzy.  A two story mansion at 683 Fifth Street, on the corner of Fifth & Georgia, became home to one of Memphis’s most iconic, yet not widely known today, ghost stories.  Col. W.J. Davie, the President of Southern Bank of Tennessee, built his mansion between the years 1855-1859 and lived there until October 1866. Apparently, in 1860, Davie secured a loan from Col. Robert C. Brinkley for $30,000 worth of stock in the Memphis Charleston Railroad, using his home as collateral. He was to repay the loan in four years. Unfortunately, the Civil War broke out, the bank was failing, and the military took over the railroad rendering the stock useless. To avoid Brinkley foreclosing on Davie’s mortgage, Davie decided to “sell” Brinkley the home, for the cost of the bond and $15,000, to clear his debt.  Over the next two years, Brinkley renovated the mansion into a school for girls. And in 1868, the Brinkley Female College opened its doors as a boarding school housing 50 girls, under the headmaster J.D. Meredith. Upon opening, the college already had a reputation for being haunted by Davie, who was rumored to have gone insane after he went bankrupt.  Brinkley Female College Our story begins on February 21, 1871, a 13 year old blonde haired student, Clara Robertson was in an upstairs room of the Brinkley Female College, practicing piano when she noticed an emaciated little girl, about 8 years old, in a dirty pink dress, coming towards her. Panic stricken, Clara ran to another room and jumped on the bed, hiding her face in the pillow. The transparent little girl followed her into the room and placed her hand on the pillow near Clara’s head. After a few minutes, the little girl disappeared. Clara ran to tell her fellow classmates what happened and of course, no one believed her. She ran home crying because of all the teasing and taunting from her classmates. When she returned to school the next day, no one spoke of the incident and Clara began to think it was just a prank.  Her fears were only set aside for one day though. The following day, the little girl appeared again. This time there were other students present. It’s not really known if the two other girls really saw anything or if they were just playing around with Clara. Regardless, they all screamed and ran downstairs to get a teacher. This time, when Clara returned upstairs, the little girl spoke to her as the newspaper called it, “like a perturbed spirit in Hamlet”. The little ghost girl told her there were valuables buried in the yard and she wanted Clara to find them.  It was now apparent that the adults needed to get involved. Clara’s father, J.C. Robertson, a prominent Memphis lawyer, spoke with the headmaster, Mr. Meredith and decided there needed to be an investigation. Robertson was worried about his daughter’s well being, while Meredith was worried about the reputation of his school. The following week, Mr. Meredith decided to question the students about the ghost, while Clara was made to wait outside. While Clara was in the schoolyard, the little ghost girl appeared to her again. This time, when she spoke, she told Clara to not be alarmed, her name was Lizzie, and that she would not harm her. Lizzie told Clara that her family had owned this building and it was stolen from them. She wanted Clara to undo the wrongs that had been done to her family. If Clara could find the papers and other valuables buried in the yard, she could claim possession of the property as her own. She also added that if Clara did not do what she had asked, then Lizzie would never do any good to or for anyone. After this incident, Clara told her father she was not going back to school. Her father contacted one of his clients, Mrs. Nourse, a spiritual medium, for help.  Mrs. Nourse convinced Mr. Robertson to hold a seance at their home. Several neighbors came over and gathered around the t...

The Victorian Village is a small neighborhood next to Memphis' Medical District, at the edge of downtown. The area’s most famous characteristic is its collection of 19th-century mansions, which are well-known for their beautiful architecture. If anyone is not familiar with the Victorian architectural styles for which this area was named, it’s really interesting to research, especially if you’re a fan of really pretty buildings like we are. To even brush past all of the Victorian styles that are present in the world, or even in the US, would take a lot of time and much more knowledge than we possess, so we’re just going to point out some of the characteristics of the Woodruff-Fontaine house, since… well, that’s what this episode is about.  Woodruff- Fontaine House Woodruff-Fontaine is considered to be built in Second Empire French-Victorian style, which can be characterized by having elaborate detailing; a heavy cornice (which is decorative trim where the walls meet the roof); a square tower located at the center of the facade; a railing around the top of the roof; hooded or bracketed windows; tall, almost floor-to-ceiling windows on the first floor; and steps leading from the street up to the doorway. If you’ve ever seen the Woodruff-Fontaine house, this should all sound familiar. Symmetry and balance are very important in this style, and there’s a perfect example in the foyer of the house. There are matching doors on either side of the pathway leading through the back of the foyer. One of them functions as a door and the other opens onto a brick wall. It was built there simply to keep the room balanced and symmetrical. (Fun fact, the fake door, that was put in place to create the symmetry, has the names of the builders, I believe, signed on the back of it) Most of the amazing homes that still remain in Victorian Village have now been renovated and, like Woodruff-Fontaine, serve as museums that teach visitors about the Victorian era in the US. One of the homes, the James Lee House, has been turned into a beautiful bed & breakfast, and another one is an upscale, retro-chic bar known as Mollie Fontaine’s. In the mid-19th century, Memphis experienced a period of growth that can be credited to an influx of entrepreneurs, lawyers, and politicians. Some of Memphis’s wealthiest residents built lavish, Victorian-style homes in what was then the outskirts of the city, but is now right in the heart of the city. This area became known as the Victorian Village, and the main street through the neighborhood was nicknamed "Millionaires Row." As the city expanded, this neighborhood became less appealing and less exclusive, and by the end of World War II, many of the wealthy residents had abandoned their mansions and moved to more affluent areas. Sadly, many of the original homes have since been torn down. All of the remaining houses in the neighborhood are safe from this same fate because they are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Woodruff-Fontaine House also has quite an interesting history…   Amos Woodruff and his brother came to Memphis from Rahway, New Jersey in 1845 to expand their carriage-making business. Although his brother returned home to New Jersey, Amos stayed in Memphis and found great success in multiple business ventures. In addition to his carriage-making business, he was involved in establishing two banks, a railroad company, an insurance company, a hotel, a cotton compress firm, and a lumber company. He also became the President of the City Council and ran for mayor twice.  Amos Woodruff In 1870, Amos Woodruff purchased land next to the Goyer House, now known as the James Lee House, paid $12,000 for the plot and began construction on the mansion. The house was designed by Edward Culliatt Jones and Matthias H. Baldwin, who owned a local architecture firm, and would end up costing the Woodruffs $40,000 to build. Edward Jones was the architect behind some well-known churches in M...

Ida Bell Wells was born July 16, 1862 in Holly Springs, MS. Her parents, James and Lizzie Wells, were enslaved in Holly Springs when she was born. Her father was the son of a white man and one of his slaves named Peggy. At age 18, James went to Holly Springs to learn carpentry and he worked as a hired out slave. According to Wells, her father knew very little of the cruelties of slavery.  Her mother, on the other hand, was taken from her family and sold to an architect, Mr. Bolling, in Holly Springs, where she became his cook. Ida’s mother and father met when they were both enslaved at the architect’s home (now called Bolling- Gatewood House) in Holly Springs. About six months after Ida was born, she and her parents were freed by the Emancipation Proclamation.  After Ida’s parents were freed, they stayed in Holly Springs. Her father, James, founded a carpentry business (this happened after he quit working for Mr. Bolling. Bolling was pressuring him to vote Democratic and when he refused, he came back to a locked shop. James left the shop, went downtown to buy new tools, and rented a house across the street to open his own shop.) Ida’s mother, Lizzie, was a famous cook in the city. Both of her parents were active in the Republican Party. Side note: There was a time when the Republican and Democratic parties had opposite platforms, and over the years they switched to what we know today. According to livescience.com, during the 1860s, Republicans were Northerners in favor of expansion of federal power. It was Lincoln’s party. The Democrats were Southerners, who did not want the federal government to have all the power, they believed it belonged to the individual states. The Republicans passed laws to protect African Americans and fought for social justice after the Civil War. The party lines began to blur in the early 1900s when a Democrat, William Jennings Bryan, emphasized the government’s role in social justice reform through expansion of the government, a traditionally Republican stance. So why did this happen? After the Civil War, new western states were acquired and both parties were vying for their attention. The Democrats saw that using the federal government to fund social programs and benefits was beneficial for their platform in trying to win over western states. The Republicans naturally took the opposing position and called for a hands off approach. They began to appeal to big business. Big business originally needed more government help with infrastructure, currency, and tariffs, but once established, the hands off approach was better. It allowed them more freedoms to do what they wanted.  James Wells became a trustee in Shaw College (now Rust College), a school for newly freed slaves. The school was established in 1866 for adults and children, by the Freedman’s Aid Society, of which James Wells was a member. It was originally called Shaw College after Reverend Shaw, who donated $10,000 to the new school. In 1915, in order to not confuse it with Shaw University, they renamed it Rust College, after Richard Rust, the secretary of the Freedman’s Aid Society.  As time went on and students progressed, the school went from having elementary and secondary classes to having high school and college courses. In 1878, the first two students graduated from the college department. It was at Shaw College that Ida received the first of her formal education.  Tragedy struck when Ida was only 14 (there’s speculation as to if she was 14 or 16. I’ve read both but Ida’s autobiography said 14, so we’re going with that). Both her parents and one sibling contracted Yellow Fever and passed away. Holly Springs’ mayor refused to quarantine the city from Memphis after the fever broke out and people came down to get away from the city, bringing the disease with them.  Ida had been visiting her grandmother out of town and was spared of the disease. Ida was the oldest of eight children and it was now her responsibility to...

This episode is about Firsts in Memphis. It occurred to me, after several tours of our favorite place, Elmwood Cemetery, that our city has numerous things that happened for the first time, here in our city. We’re going to talk about a few of them today. We’ll revisit this topic periodically, we’ve got a few more on the list, but if you have any suggestions, of course, please let us know! “We are not trying to prove we can get along in a world without men. We are simply trying to prove that when a group of women make up their collective minds that they are going to do something successfully, no force on earth can keep them from it.” -Dorothy Abbott, Assistant Manager and Program Director of WHER.  This quote was from the program director of the first all female radio station.   WHER was started in 1955 by none other than Sam Phillips, the man behind helping to make Elvis famous. Phillips used the money he received from selling Elvis’ recording contract to start the station. According to Philips, he created the station from his love of radio and his curiosity of hearing women’s voices on the air. Women ran the entire operation - everything from being on air personalities to engineering their programs. Phillips' wife, Becky, was one of the first djs. He drew women from all over the Memphis area, most who had no experience in radio. He employed models, actresses, telephone operators, and housewives, just to name a few. WHER was recorded and broadcast out of the third ever Holiday Inn (another Memphis first we will discuss in a moment), in a studio named the Doll Bin. It was decorated all pink and girly. The djs delivered news and played music on the air, conducted interviews with local celebrities, created and sold commercials, produced and directed the programming and ran the control boards. The radio station ran from 1955-1973. WHER inspired women everywhere to start similar stations.   In sticking with the radio theme, Memphis is also home to the first radio station programmed for African Americans with African American on-air personalities. WDIA was originally created in 1947 as a country, western, and light pop station, and it failed. The owners of the station, John Pepper and Bert Ferguson, both white, decided to take the station in another direction. They hired Nat G. Williams, a teacher at Booker T. Washington High School, to be the DJ of the Tan Town Jubilee, the first program to appeal to black listeners. This new show exploded and the station switched formats to an all black programming station. It became the number one station in Memphis.   WDIA was known as the “Starmaking Station”. Many musical legends, such as BB King and Rufus Thomas, got their start at WDIA. King started out hosting a 15min show and then moved on to hosting a full afternoon program. It was during his show that the station got their first major advertiser. BB King credits the station for helping to launch his career. By 1954, WDIA increased its power to 50,000 watts making it possible to be heard from the Missouri bootheel to the Gulf Coast.  Also, in 1954, the station created the Goodwill Fund. Originally it was designed to transport disabled African American children to school and then later it grew to be an organization that offered college scholarships, established boys clubs, provided little league teams, and helped provide low cost supplemental housing. Until 1972, the station management had been an integrated one, which was pretty uncommon for the time, but that year, Chuck Scruggs was promoted to general manager. He became the first black general manager at the station. Mr. Scruggs did more than just run a number one radio station, he helped preserve one of Memphis’s historic sites, the Lorraine Motel. When it was in danger of being torn down, he donated the money to save it and helped create the Civil Right Museum. WDIA, the heart and soul of Memphis, is still running today,

“These animals are like my children, every day that I come to the zoo I say, ‘Daddy’s home’.” - Nicholas J. Melroy, 1923 You can thank the payment of debt, which came in an unusual form, for the construction of Memphis’s wonderful zoo. Albert Carruthers, president of a local shoe business, accepted an in-kind payment for a shipment of shoes, in the form of a black bear cub named “Natch.” Mr. Carruthers gave the cub to the Memphis Turtles baseball team to use as a mascot. As the bear got older, he became less tolerant of the noisy sports fans and began snapping at children. The team retired their live mascot and returned him to Mr. Carruthers. Unable to house the bear as he got older (and BIGGER), Albert decided to chain Natch to a tree in the middle of Overton Park. Eventually, a log cabin was built for the bear and he became a popular attraction in the park. Natch in Overton Park Citizens visiting the park started “donating” wild animals to the park, beginning with a wildcat and a monkey. Eventually a fence was built around Natch. Animals, wild or not, still need food, so Natch and the other animals were being fed by a generous man, Col. Robert Galloway, one of the founding members of the park commission. The Memphis Parks Commission was formed in 1901 and headed by John Goodwin, LB McFarland, and Robert Galloway. In 1906, Galloway petitioned the parks commission for funds to help open a zoo in Overton Park (named after Memphis Founder, John Overton). After lots of effort, on April 4, 1906, the parks commission established an annual fund of $1200 to create a zoo.  The first true zoo, like the ones we know today, was the Philadelphia Zoo.  The charter was approved in March of 1859, but unfortunately, the Civil War broke out and it was not opened until July 1, 1874. This zoo was the first in the country to breed animals that were considered difficult to breed in captivity.  In August of 1906, the Memphis Zoo Association (later known as the Memphis Zoological Society) held a fundraiser that raised $3600. That money, combined with the parks commission’s donation, allowed the zoo to be able to buy 23 cages and a row of concrete bear dens.  In 1907, Galloway Hall was the first building constructed and it held most of the zoo’s animals. Galloway Hall held many animal habitats, including the reptiles until it was demolished in 1954. Besides Natch the bear and his park mates, some of the first animals the zoo held were native animals, such as foxes and snapping turtles, most of which were caught by citizens and given to the zoo.  In the early days, animals would be shipped to the US directly from their country of origin. As time passed, animals were acquired from other zoos or zoos would purchase retired circus animals.  Some of the first animals to arrive at the zoo, starting in 1908, were three black bears, a cinnamon bear by the name of Teddy, after President Roosevelt, six madagascar monkeys, four spider monkeys, and one java macaque monkey.  Bear Pits In 1909, polar bears Ella and her mate moved to the zoo. That was also the year the elephant house was built. The first African elephant named Marguerite was acquired from Ringling Brothers circus in 1912. The following year, the first bengal Tiger, Samantha, was also purchased from Ringling Bros. Both animals were named by school children from a contest run in the local paper.  Elephant House Original Big Cat House In 1914, Henry Loeb (a name that most Memphians will recognize today) held a fundraiser that helped obtain Venus and Adonis, the zoo’s first hippos. Their permanent home was not completed until 1916 but it housed all the future hippos for 100 years, until the new habitat was built in 2016. Hippos House Venus and Adonis sired 8 babies in the first 20 years they were at the zoo. Little fact I learned, Hippos are pregnant for about 8 months, but after they give birth, they will not conceive again for at least 18- 24 mon...

October 26th, 2015 - George Howard Putt, the serial killer that terrorized the city of Memphis,  for 29 days during the summer of 1969, died of natural causes at the Lois DeBerry Special Needs Facility in Nashville. News of his death would not reach the public, nor the families of Putt’s victims, until March of the following year. Michael Dumas, the son of Putt’s first victims - Roy and Bernalyn Dumas - reportedly only discovered months later that Putt had died when his wife logged into the correctional facility website and noticed that they had listed Putt as “deceased.” In an interview with the Commercial Appeal following the announcement of Putt’s death in March of 2016, Michael Dumas said, “My reaction was remorse, because it brought back all the painful memories of that summer. The death of my parents has always been painful. One part of me was happy that maybe this is over with. We all carry our pain from the past. You never get over that.”   The summer of 1969 was quite a tense time in the US…   -The war in Vietnam had been in full swing, which was dividing the nation due to differing opinions on our involvement and conduct there... -Charles Manson’s followers committed the infamous series of horrible murders in the Los Angeles Area…-Riots broke out outside the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, Manhattan, after a conflict between gay rights activists and police… And for Memphis in particular, the years of ‘68 and ‘69 were quite a struggle. First, the sanitation strike happened, which brought Martin Luther King Jr to the city. Protests were ending in violence and arrests. Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated on the 2nd floor balcony of the Lorraine Motel…  and after all of this happened, business and residents in Downtown Memphis relocated en masse for fear of more racial strife in the area. By the time this all settled, the area was said to be home to more jail inmates than actual residents. It was indeed a very heavy time in Memphis.  Many Memphians who were not in Memphis during the late 60s, or who were not yet born at the time (like me), may not even be aware that there was ever a serial killer in Memphis. I personally was not aware of it until a coworker brought it to my attention just under a year ago. But it’s true! Memphis, during the latter part of the summer of 1969, was home to a series of brutal murders, all committed by one man - George Howard Putt. There is quite a lengthy backstory here, which we will try to deliver as concisely as possible, but I think it might provide insight into George Putt’s early development and his progression from minor crimes and misdemeanors to his later crimes of a violent, sexual, and even murderous nature.  George "Buster" Putt Putt’s Early Life and Criminal History Known as “Buster” to his friends and family, George Putt did not begin his life in Memphis, but this is certainly where he ended his life as a free man. George was born in New Orleans, Louisiana to abusive, drifter parents Clifford and Leola Putt. Whether to look for work, or simply to satisfy their wanderlust, Clifford and Leola removed George from school, along with his older brother, to roam around the Southeastern United States with them. George’s parents were constantly in trouble for petty crimes, making whatever home life they had unpredictable and unreliable. George’s father, Clifford, was also extremely abusive to him and his siblings. One of Clifford’s many arrests during George’s early life was for cruelty to a minor for severely beating 3-month-old George with a leather strap. By the time George was 8 years old, his parents went to prison for check forgery, leaving Buster and his 6 siblings to live with their grandparents.  It took only three years for his grandparents to send George and four of his brothers to live at a school for orphans outside Richmond, Virginia, following the arrest of 11-year-old George and an older brother for shooting out a neighbor’s windows w...

“Yours for the asking! George wants to play catch but needs a Daddy to complete Team "Catch this ball, Daddy!" How would YOU like to have this handsome five-year-old play "catch" with you? How would you like his chubby arms to slip around your neck and give you a bearlike hug? His name is George and he may be yours for the asking, if you hurry along your request to the Christmas Baby Editor of the Press-Scimitar. In co-operation with Miss Georgia Tann of the Tennessee Children's Home Society, The Press-Scimitar will place 25 babies for adoption this Christmas.”  Our first story takes us back to the early 1920s.  Adoption was not terribly common in the US prior to the 1920s, but a lady by the name of Georgia Tann moved to Memphis and brought with her ideas that would change the world of adoption forever. Now, a story about adoption may not seem too scandalous of a tale, but just wait… Beulah George “Georgia” Tann was born in 1891 in Philadelphia, MS. Her father was a district court judge with a “domineering” personality. As a child, she was a tomboy in every sense of the word. Her father thought his daughter was too masculine, wearing pants and flannel shirts.  To try to curtail those tomboy tendencies, he had her studying piano since age five.  As a teenager, she was sent to attend Martha Washington College and she graduated with a degree in music. Unfortunately for him, Tann didn’t want to play music, she wanted to find a way to follow her true passion, the law. She was able to take summer courses at Columbia University so that she could become a lawyer. She studied hard and passed the bar exam in MS. But sadly for women at that time, becoming a lawyer was uncommon. She settled for becoming something acceptable for an unwed woman… a social worker.  Her first social work job was at the Mississippi Children’s Home Finding Society. Working with the public in a poor state such as MS, she began to develop theories on the difference between classes. She saw the poverty stricken as breeders, incapable of proper parenting, and the wealthy were “of higher type” and could rear children well.  During her time in MS, her job was to place orphans for adoption, but she soon realized she could capitalize on this idea and charge desperate couples a hefty fee to become parents.    In the 1920s, regulations on adoption were lacking, a fact that Tann began to exploit. Children of poor families, who couldn’t afford to keep them, were acquired and sold to wealthy families. This began Tann’s descent into the underworld of less-than-legal adoptions. It was also when she decided MS was not the place for baby resale, so her father used his connections to move his daughter, first briefly to Texas, but then on to Memphis.  Before her move to Memphis, Tann began a relationship with Ann Atwood, a childhood friend and coworker from a children’s home in Jackson, MS.  At one time, cohabitation between two independent women was socially acceptable, but as time went by, it began to be seen as homosexual, something that was looked down upon.  Shortly before they moved to Memphis, Atwood was pregnant with a child she named George, whom she would call Jack. She took Jack’s father’s last name, Hollinsworth, so that people would think she was a widow, instead of having had a child out of wedlock.  In 1922, Tann adopted a daughter, June. She was apparently not the greatest mother though. In an interview with June’s daughter, she said that Tann was a “cold fish” and that she gave her material things, but nothing else. These actions would later be reflected on the children in her care. With two children in tow, in 1924, Georgia and Ann arrived in Memphis and began to use their home as a makeshift adoption agency, and thus began the Shelby Co chapter of the TN Children’s Home Society.  Eventually, they acquired a building at 1556 Poplar Ave.  The Society, as it was called, was well supported by the community. Tann had many connections and a strong network of ...

Hey everyone and welcome to Unearthed: Memphis! We’re extremely excited to bring to you our new podcast about Memphis history. Subscribe to hear new stories every other Wednesday on your favorite podcast listening app!