The East Nashvillian 10.6 “10th Anniversary”

VOL. X ISSUE 6

T H R O U G H T H E PA S T, L I G H T LY A COLLECTION OF OUR FAVORITE STORIES AND PHOTOGRAPHY

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upcoming events • January 29 - 31: Clarksdale Film & Music Festival • April 11: Mr. Tater’s Memorial Birthday Bash - Bad Apple Blues Club • April 15 -18: Juke Joint Festival & Related Events - Main Day April 17

IMAGE OF ALLIGATOR RECORDS ARTIST CHRISTONE “KINGFISH” INGRAM BY RORY DOYLE

• April 18: Cat Head Mini Blues Fest • May 8: Clarksdale Caravan Music Fest • May 29: Red’s Old-Timers Blues Fest • May 29 - 31: Goat Fest VII

LIVE BLUES • LOCAL TOURS • HISTORY MARKERS • CANOE EXPEDITIONS • MUSEUMS

In-person and virtual music calendars plus lodging info at VisitClarksdale.com. #VisitMSResponsibly

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theeastnashvillian.com Founder & Publisher Lisa McCauley

Creative Director

Chuck Allen

Layout & Design

Benjamin Rumble

Editor-in-Chief

Photo Editing

Chuck Allen

Travis Commeau

Randy Fox

Benjamin Rumble, Scott Guion, Dean Tomasek

Contributing Writers

Advertising sales@theeastnashvillian.com Marketing Consultant

editor@theeastnashvillian.com Managing Editor

Illustrations

randy@theeastnashvillian.com

Jaime Brousse, Timothy C. Davis, Dana Delworth, Jon Gugala, James Haggerty, Robbie D. Jones, Heather Lose, Bill Purcell, Tim Stegall, Tommy Womack

Coral Sherwood Ad Design

Benjamin Rumble Contributing Photographers

Travis Commeau, Tim Duggan, Eric England, Alysse Gafkjen, Stacie Huckeba, Heather Lose, John Partipilo

The East Nashvillian is a bimonthly magazine published by Kitchen Table Media. All editorial content and photographic materials contained herein are “works for hire” and are the exclusive property of Kitchen Table Media, LLC unless otherwise noted. This publication is offered freely, limited to one per reader. The removal of more than one copy by an individual from any of our distribution points constitutes theft and will be subject to prosecution.

Reprints or any other usage without the express written permission of the publisher is a violation of copyright.

©2020 Kitchen Table Media P.O. Box 60157, Nashville, TN 37206

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Feature Favorites

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How Carol Williams Helped East Nashville Get Its Groove Back

By Jaime Brousse

17 18 He’s Been Everywhere, Man

What Makes Us Stronger: A Reflection

10th Anniversary

9 Through The Past, Lightly Introduction

By Chuck Allen

By Bill Purcell

But now Phil “The Road Mangler” Kaufman is good in the ’hood

By Heather Lose

22 The Lonely Bird In Shelby Bottoms

By Jon Gugala

24 Where Goes The Neighborhood?

30 Robyn Hitchcock

By Timothy C. Davis

Commentary

11 Of Wolf Peaches & The Republic Editor’s Letter

By Chuck Allen

12 Guitarists and Their Woobies Astute Observations

By James “Hags” Haggerty

50 Attention Spam East Of Normal

By Tommy Womack

One-of-a-kind artist finds his musical evolution is all ‘bing a bong a bing bong’ in East Nashville

By Tommy Womack

39 Wild, Wild East

Tales of the James Gang in Edgefield

By Robbie D. Jones

42 Citizens Kind

For Meg & Bret MacFadyen, business was always personal

By Dana Delworth

Cover Design: Benjamin Rumble

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Like acountry song, we’ve split up.

Introducing North & South Terminals.

Visit BNAVision.com for construction updates.

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theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

Through The Past, Lightly

Welcome to our 10th anniversary special edition, where we take a look back and offer up some of our favorite features from years gone by. It’s hard to know where you’re going if you don’t know where you’ve been, right? Most all of these stories shine a light on how East Nashville as we know it came to be. If you’re new to the East Side we hope this edition sheds some light on the fact that our community wasn’t birthed fully mature. Folks like Carrol Williams, Bret and Meg MacFadyen, and many others worked hard over the years to establish the foundational elements from which we as community benefit. In other words, it wasn’t accidental.

For those of you who’ve lived here through two tornados, a flood, and now a pandemic, perhaps this issue will serve as hope that we’ll get through this, too. For even as we’re experiencing this apart from one another, we’re always together in spirit.

We believe the best investment is made in one’s community.

THANK YOU! Our Founder & Publisher, Lisa McCauley, and I are grateful to have played a small part by sharing these stories over the last 10 years.

A special thanks should be given to those who played important roles in making The East Nashvillian possible: (editorial) Melanie Meadows, Nicole Keiper, John McBryde, Joey Butler, Emma Alford, Liz Foster, & Leslie LaChance; (design) Alison Slamon, Mark Pilkinton, McKenzie Moore, & Jeff Stamper; (photography) Stacie Huckeba, Eric England, Michael Weintrob, Chad Crawford, Tim Duggan, & Alysse Gafkjen; (columnists) James “Hags” Haggerty, Tommy Womack, Sarah Hayes Coomer, Melissa Corbin, Nancy Roche, & Joelle Herr.

To all the many writers and photographers who’ve contributed through the years, we are forever grateful.

Thanks to our photo editor, Travis Commeau, for stepping up our game and believing in what we do. And to our current Managing Editor, Randy Fox, thank you!

Very special recognition goes to our designer for the last eight years, Benjamin Rumble. Your contribution can’t be overstated.

And last but not least, to Daryl Sanders, whose commitment to excellence guides us to this day.

Of course, without the financial support of our advertisers this would all be a moot point. You more than anyone make this possible.

Thank You!

Until we meet again, keep well and be safe.

Much love, Chuck Allen Editor-in-Chief

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Let them know ...

YOU SURVIVED 2020!!

Send a holiday greeting card this year!

Start a new tradition by sending greeting cards to family and friends.

Of course you can get your custom cards printed at Midtown Printing!

From Vol. 5, Issue I Published Sept|Oct 2014

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Editor’s LETTER

Of Wolf Peaches & The Republic

I

n Nix v. Hedden (149 U.S. 304, 1893), the U.S. Supreme Court unanimously held that the tomato is a vegetable within the meaning of the Tariff Act of 1883. Writing the court’s opinion, Justice Gray basically boiled it down to how the tomato was commonly used in cooking: “Botanically speaking, tomatoes are the fruit of a vine, just as are cucumbers, squashes, beans, and peas. But in the common language of the people, whether sellers or consumers of provisions, all these are vegetables which are grown in kitchen gardens, and which, whether eaten cooked or raw, are, like potatoes, carrots, parsnips, turnips, beets, cauliflower, cabbage, celery, and lettuce, usually served at dinner in, with, or after the soup, fish, or meats which constitute the principal part of the repast, and not, like fruits generally, as dessert.”

Within this opinion is the acknowledgement that botanically tomatoes are a fruit; specifically the fruit of plant Solanum lycopersicum. They originated in Mesoamerica, and were widely and rapidly distributed across the globe following the Spanish conquests in Central America. That’s right — Pomodoro sauces weren’t present during Caesar’s time in Rome. To sum it up, the tomato is botanically a fruit, gastronomically a vegetable.

So, you see, the tomato has always had something of a split personality; one more along the lines of the yin-yang, rather than a chemical imbalance. The light and the dark become one, and such and so forth. Which is why the slogan for East Nashville’s Tomato Art Fest is so ... sublime: “A Uniter not a Divider — Bringing Together the Fruits and the Vegetables!”

That’s right. We’re all in this together, like it or not. Recent anthropological studies done among the few remaining primitive tribes that have little or no contact with the outside world uncovered convincing evidence that they are better at resolving disputes than us civilized folk. Of course, it’s all about community to them. Concepts like nation-states are as inconceivable to them as passing a bill is to congress. A close-knit tribal community can’t afford divisions along party lines or winner-takeall politics. To them, resolving their differences amicably is a matter of survival.

Sure, I’ll stipulate the fact that we are indeed a nation, albeit a schizophrenic one undergoing a paradigm shift. What’s more important to me is that we are a people, and as a people we live and die by the covenants set forth by our enlightened forefathers in the Constitution. It’s essence, it’s brilliance, lies in the framework it provides for balancing two constant, elemental and powerful forces that are often diametrically opposed to one another: The General Welfare and Individual Liberty.

In this respect, we all have both some of the liberal as well as some of the conservative in us.

Case in point: The unwelcomed situation in which Family Wash owner Jamie Rubin recently found himself (accused of selling high-gravity beer, which he’d been selling for years in the full light of day with no problem). A die-hard Obama supporter, he was nevertheless a victim of exactly the type of government over-reach that has Libertarians screaming, “police state.” The bottom line is this: Our republic was designed for these opposing forces to forever be in a dance with one another, and for things to work — for our tribe’s survival — there must be compromise.

It’s easy to stand behind party, or worse, the anonymity of the Internet, and lob spitballs at the other side. It’s a much more difficult proposition when the spitballs one is lobbing are aimed at one’s neighbors. Community is the last bastion of compromise. Working together we can promote the general welfare and at the same time respect one another’s individual liberties, being ever mindful of the fact that perfection doesn’t exist in this world.

So it is with the “feeling” Meg MacFayden describes when she talks about the Tomato Art Fest, when the community comes together in unity, led by a fruit and a vegetable. A uniter — not a divider.

The tomato.

The Editor’s Letter from our 3rd Annual Tomato Art Fest issue, which reads as though it could’ve been written as commentary on our nation’s current predicament.

Vol. 3, Issue 6 July | Aug 2013

July | august vol. iii, issue 6

East NashvillE UNdErgroUNd

| homEschooliNg | aNita hartEl

| Bill July | Brimm August 2013 | hot THEEASTNASHV chickEN | viNtagE ILLIAN.COM viNyl

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Astute O B S E R V A T I O N S

Guitarists and Their Woobies

BY JAMES “HAGS” HAGGERTY

G

reetings once again, dear readers of The East Nashvillian magazine. I hope you all had fun at the Tomato Art Fest this year and are enjoying the waning days of summer. Have any of you tried my spaghetti sauce recipe yet? It’s great in the fall, trust me. But on to more pressing matters.

Hey Chuck Allen, Mr. Editor, it’s me, James Haggerty, the astute observer.

Congratulations on this latest issue. Guitarists and their instruments are something that we really don’t hear enough of or read much about here in Nashville. So thank you for helping to fill the void!

Could you do me a favor Chuck? Would you look over to the right on this page? Do you see that drawing? That’s me. Do you see that thing around my shoulders? That’s a bass. Dean Tomasek drew that picture. He’s a bass player too. He did a good job. What’s a bass you ask?

It’s that instrument in the rhythm section along with the piano and drums that is actually playing the song correctly. We’re the cats behind you guitar types onstage, laying the foundation for your solos. You know, while you wait for the first verse and chorus to go by so you can learn the changes before you make your tasteful, restrained entrance? We’re the folks playing them.

You’re welcome.

You can have your guitar issue. This is the rhythm section column — equal time, my friend.

I’ve got a couple of questions for you, sir. How many guitarists does it take to cover a Stevie Ray Vaughn tune? All of them, apparently.

In the next century, how many guitarists will it take to change a light source? The answer is five.

One to change it and four others to reminisce about how much better the old tubes were ... .

But seriously, what’s up with you guys? Always fretting over your pedal board. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.) Something is always breaking on it — right before the gig starts. You’re sweating, cursing, down on your knees, banging these little boxes against the floor and then apologizing when you realize you forgot to plug the power supply in or something. Calm down. Is that pedal board your security blanket? Your electronic woobie? Chuck, I think it’s time to give up the woobie.

And the endless conversations about string gauge, picks, cables, and tone circuits. This amp, that amp. You’ve got an entire issue devoted to just that! Good lord man, just plug it in and play it!

What would Malcolm Young do?

You know what a conversation between two bass players sounds like? “That bass sounds good.”

“I think so too. Can’t go wrong with an Ampeg amp.” “Nope.” “Wanna get a beer?” “Sure.”

It’s cool though, Chuck. We’ve got your back. It’s what we do. We need each other. You guys just keep jumping around doing your windmills and whatnot. We’ll be behind you playing the changes.

You’re welcome.

Having been fired from The East Nashvillian for insulting the editor’s fragile sensibilities, Hags is now a full-time bass player again. Unfortunately, he’s having a hard time finding a gig because the editor isn’t the only guitar player capable of holding a grudge.

(UPDATE: Due to the pandemic, Hags started a second career baking bread. It’s been quite successful thus far. We look forward to the day we get to see him gracing the stage of a club again.)

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This jewel from our favorite astute observer finds Hags excoriating yours truly for the audacity of having an entire issue devoted to guitar players.

Vol. 5, Issue I Sept | Oct 2014

September | October Vol. V Issue 1

Guitar Town FEATURING

Ted Drozdowski Gattis | Jamie Rubin | Jim Oblon | Audley Freed | Sam Williams | Keith | John Jackson Carroll | Jay Rutherford & Wojtek Krupka Joe McMahan | Richie Owens | Tim Joyce | Will Kimbrough | Paul Niehaus | Jay John Mark Painter | Reeves Gabrels Brock | Kevin Edlin | Joe Pisapia Jack Silverman | Jonas Stein & Kingsley Sept | Oct 2014

THEEASTNASHVILLIA N.COM

(l-r) Jim Oblon, Jamie Rubin, Tim Carroll, Reeves Gabrels

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Photograph by Stacy Huckeba

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YEARS

C

Carol Williams relaxes in her beloved Shelby Park.

Photograph by Chuck Allen Dec. 26, 2013

by Jaime Brousse

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theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

arol Williams didn’t want to live in a trashy neighborhood. Then her attorney husband suggested their family move to a dilapidated fixer-upper near a murder scene he had recently investigated.

“This was one of those zones that was so high crime, you didn’t come to it,” she says. “But Charlie saw this house, and he wanted it.” That was 1975. The neighborhood was never the same, and neither was Carol Williams.

It was nearly a year before the home was livable. The Williams family purchased their 1888 home on Russell Street for $9,000 — far below the median home price of $35,000 — and they began to erase the damage brought on by generations of neglect. A dozen layers of wallpaper came down and decades of grime were scrubbed, lifting the lingering stench from a recent squatter. It’s hard to imagine Williams as a pregnant mom with a full-time job willing to take on such a big challenge.

East Nashville was not always a bustling zip code of hipster bars, distinctive restaurants and young families willing to invest money and time spent watching HGTV into an up-and-coming urban neighborhood. Back then, there were no festivals, running clubs, or 37206 bumper stickers.

Carol remembers the couple had to invite doubting bankers into their home to personally go over renovation plans to secure financing.

“We had to fight every inch to get anybody to loan us any money to put in the house, because [the banks] said anybody that had money enough to fix up this house would not live in this neighborhood.”

Even those not well-versed in East Nashville history may know the most exclusive neighborhood in the city was nearly destroyed in the Great Fire of 1916, but they may not know the rest. An extravagant mansion, encompassed by a sprawling wooded estate and one-time home to a women’s college, was leveled to make way for Nashville’s largest public housing project in the 1940s and 50s. While the James A. Cayce Homes offered stable housing to an under-served population walking the poverty line, unfortunately it also brought the threat of increased crime.

The construction of a noisy interstate along the East Bank in the 1960s served as a physical barrier that further isolated the neighborhood.

Problem properties and absentee landlords were the norm when the Williams family arrived in the 1970s, and they were one of the few young homeowners in Edgefield. A few doors down,

she set her fears aside, and got to know them.

“They were our friends, we knew their names.” A portrait her son sketched of a homeless man the family knew well hangs in her kitchen still today.

While such experiences may have scarred some people for life, it had the opposite effect on her three children. Each moved out of state as a young adult — each eventually returned to East Nashville to settle down and raise their own families.

A story about Williams’ life, and the evolution of East Nashville, could not be told without the events of April 16, 1998. For Williams, the tornado that tore through town with 150-mileper-hour winds was a near-death experience that marked a turning point in her life.

“That day the tornadoes were bouncing all around Nashville,” she recalls. “I had been to the Y in Brentwood to work out, we had taken shelter in the locker room there. But then when I came out, the warnings had been lifted. So I ran another errand and was on my way back from the Germantown area, and here it came.,” Williams was at the corner of 1st Street and Woodland when she spotted the tornado and pulled over.

“My car was being lifted, so I jumped out of the car and hit the ground and hung on to a chain link fence. At that time, the stadium was being built, and the insulation was flying off the stadium, and I wrapped my head in insulation. So I was on the ground until it passed.”

When the storm cleared, thousands of East Nashville structures — homes, businesses, churches stretching from Edgefield to Eastland Avenue and beyond — needed repair. Roofs were blown off; debris and downed trees littered the streets. When things were cleaned up, a different place emerged — one with condos, new restaurants, and long-needed improvements fueled by the influx of insurance money. An army of volunteers helped put East Nashville back together, arguably stronger than it was before the storm.

Williams would draw from her survival of the tornado to find strength in the years to come.

“In some ways, it became symbolic of lying in the middle of darkness,” she says. “It was the beginning of one change after another.”

After 25 years in East Nashville without a violent incident, Williams was robbed and assaulted in broad daylight outside her Edgefield home in 2001. Soon after, her brother, a close friend, died suddenly. In 2005, her daughter survived a liver transplant. Six months later, Charlie, her husband of 40 years, committed suicide. He had long struggled with depression, stemming from childhood abuse and a daunting diagnosis of multiple sclerosis.

“He tried for years to do everything he could, and the fact that he was willing to get help [for his depression] was comforting to me,”

VOL I, ISSUE 6

J U LY | AU G 2 0 1 1

Williams says. “I find great peace in the fact that he did go for help.” She hopes that by being open about his death, more people will seek help themselves.

The loss of her husband has compelled her to keep fighting for causes close to her heart, and close to her home. “We all grew from the experience of his life and of his death. So anything that benefits East Nashville, or East Nashvillians of any income — from the poorest of the poor to the professional — I want to be a part of making it better,” she says. “If anybody calls and there is a need, that’s where I want to be, no matter how big or how small.”

Right now, she sees a need in Shelby Park.

Despite decades of urban improvement under her belt, Williams has lofty, long-term goals for the park she’s known since she was a little girl. As the president of the nonprofit Friends of Shelby Park and Bottoms, Williams says part of her motivation is wanting to restore the park to the well-manicured hills she rolled down as a child, and maintaining one of her husband’s favorite spots.

The group worked with Metro Nashville to create a 20-year, $27-million master plan for the park. It includes taking advantage of Shelby Park’s proximity to downtown and prime riverfront location. “To have an urban space of over 1,000 acres including the Bottoms, this close to downtown is a gift that many cities don’t have,” she says. “If you travel in other cities, they utilize the river — you can walk and bicycle along the river. We in Nashville are a little behind that.”

Thanks to a $1 million allowance in Mayor Karl Dean’s budget, work will begin in the fall on safety improvements to traffic flow and parking. Williams would also like to see more playgrounds, but says bigger changes will require bigger donations. Friends of Shelby is working with Metro to apply for grant money, and the group holds their annual fundraiser, the Hot Chicken Festival, in East Park on the Fourth of July. Still, there’s a long way to go. “We need $26 million more,” she says.

Undeterred by the financial hurdle, Williams hopes the 20-year master plan is realized in half that time. She knows it doesn’t take a miracle to make things happen — it takes a group of people who care. For a neighborhood built on a tradition of transformation, much of it on her watch, more change ahead seems entirely possible.

“Once we organized, we became a social force, a political force — and with the two together, we were recognized,” Williams says.

Vol. 1, Issue 6 July/August 2011

a family of 14 rented a home without electricity.

What started as a home-improvement project soon became a block-improvement project.

No stranger to hard work, Williams logged extra shifts in a local cafeteria to pay for her teaching degree at Peabody College (now a part of Vanderbilt University). The Williams set their sights on the biggest issue facing their home — literally, one they dealt with every time they looked out the front window: cleaning up East Park.

Today, visitors headed to Five Points pass by a park with a tidy playground, well-groomed softball fields and wide-open green space. Still home to a few transients, East Park isn’t perfect, but it is the perfect spot for a Hot Chicken Festival, and a nice alternative to battling the firework-gazing masses downtown on the Fourth of July.

The park’s current image has more in common with its 1920s heyday than the rough-and-tumble eyesore that bordered the Williams’ property.

The original cut stone bandstand was razed in 1956, and the park deteriorated into a makeshift homeless shelter and dumping ground. A prefabricated steel hut served as a donation site for old clothing and mattresses. Not surprisingly, by the time the Williams family braved the rundown tennis courts, the area’s most booming businesses were drugs and prostitution.

She and her husband sought the help of the few other homeowners on their street. As word spread that someone was finally taking charge, neighborhood meetings eventually drew crowds of 80 people. Almost by accident, Williams had become an activist, and she was good at it.

In 1978, Edgefield became a Historic Zoning Overlay district, and the Metro Historical and Zoning Commission gained oversight on any demolitions or renovations. East Park eventually got its makeover — the city added sidewalks, lighting, trashcans, landscaping — and more recently, a new community center.

“Once we organized, we became a social force, a political force — and with the two together, we were recognized,” Williams says.

“Historic zoning was the first step, the initial step to saving East Nashville. It gave us the voice we needed and from there on, we fought hard. It was not easy, but it was worth it.”

Edgefield continued to improve, but life for the Williams family was still far from the white picket fences of idyllic American suburbia — the neighborhood would have made most Belle Meade housewives — even most Bellevue housewives — squirm. Petite, pretty, and married to a prominent attorney, Williams was not the typical young mom.

“My kids have been exposed to life, on every level,” she says. Occasionally, homeless people slept on their porch. Instead of calling the cops,

RETURN OF THE TOMATO East Nashville’s invitation to party

Carol Williams

HOW EAST NASHVILLE GOT ITS GROOVE BAC K

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W HAT MA K E S U S STRONGER :

A reflection rom Philadelphia, my father called my office at Vanderbilt to tell me CNN had reported a tornado alert for Nashville. My staff told him I was in a meeting and could not be disturbed.

In the meeting we watched the trees outside bend in ways we had never seen.

As we stood increasingly closer to the window, we saw a limb fly off and land on a colleague’s car. Someone remarked how unusual this was. On the other side of West End a student was killed when the tree under which he sought cover fell over. Minutes later, the tornado struck our neighborhood. We did not know about the loss of life or what lay ahead for East Nashville; we just stood at the window and wondered.

At the same time, my wife and daughter were driving away from our home on Holly Street for ballet class. They noticed the wind, but took no notice of the tornado. As the full extent of the storm became known, they started back home, but only made it as far as the H.G. Hill on Gallatin Road.

The roads were blocked, night was falling, and it became apparent that the lights were all out. They decided to walk the mile to our home. That was the last cell phone contact I had as the communication system collapsed.

For the next hour I had no information about my family, my neighbors or my neighborhood. For all of us, it was a dark and increasingly frightening night. By the time I made it home I knew at least that my loved ones were safe but in the dark, and we still had no clear sense of what had happened.

As the neighborhood gathered in the street we were cheered by our own presence — and scared nearly senseless by the unknown.

In the days that followed, we learned not only the full extent of the damage and loss, but how lucky and blessed we were. We also came to appreciate our neighbors and neighborhood in new and very personal ways. Everyone pitched in, chain saws appeared, as did people from all over Tennessee who just wanted to help — and they did.

VOL. III, ISSUE 4 Tabitha Tuder's family love, murder is not giving & spacesh up | The weeks ips the works of

We discovered all over again what our neighborhood meant to us. And the city understood, many for the first time, how special the people and the place were. Every report reinforced the basic importance of community. The assault on the built environment was the lead in every story. But always close behind was the way the people of the neighborhood came together to support one another, to celebrate survival of what was most dear, and to cry about what was lost.

In the days ahead, much of the rest of Nashville went back to business and life as usual. There were moments during the year that followed when the pain returned, the things lost again front of mind, and our memories no longer shared in the balance of the city where nothing had much changed. But in the years that have followed it has been apparent that the rest of our city had, through those days, understood why East Nashville had survived and prevailed through any and all natural and human disasters during the 20th century. Two tornadoes, a massive fire, urban neglect, school decline and the rise of crime had not overcome the intrinsic value of the place and the people who had lived there all along and the people who had joined them.

The neighborhood movement that had started and flourished here was a result of no assault or threat and did Former Nashville not arise from disaster. It came from a shared desire nearly Mayor Bill Purcell provided this a generation before to protect what was and is so good and remembrance so special about the place and the people East Nashville marking the nurtured through two centuries. Historic zoning and con15th anniversary servation zoning, neighborhood crime suppression and of the 1998 more constant attention to codes had affirmed the belief tornado. that neighborhoods could protect themselves and improve The influx of quality of life. insurance money The assault of the tornado focused Nashville’s attention resulting from for a time on us all. The memory it created was of a place the damage more special, more vital and more attractive than most of set in motion a renovation the city remembered or perhaps ever knew. That memory boon, which is has been indelible and continues to this day. often marked East Nashville was neither destroyed nor saved by the as a watershed tornado. We were, in some ways, reaffirmed in our commoment in mitment to what we were doing and would need to keep East Nashville’s doing to make our neighborhoods what we had dreamed subsequent they could be: safe on every corner, served by good schools, renaissance. graced by inspiring churches and rich with green spaces, connected by sidewalks, greenways and bike lanes. And protected by a city that now understood that we knew what we had and we would always protect it and everyone here. No natural disaster had ever changed that., and no tornado could either. East Nashville was and is too old and too young and too committed to what we are and dream to be. An enduring and very personal commitment of which a day in April 1998 is simply a reminder.

The next year there was a mayoral election. We soon installed tornado sirens in public spaces across the city. An office of neighborhoods was created, and a new commitment was made to parks and sidewalks and schools and housing and infrastructure and the built environment. The sirens were a direct result of the tornado. The rest came about because the neighborhoods of East Nashville had long before understood — and then shared — what was most important to the success of the city and the lives of the people for whom it was created.

—Bill Purcell

MARCH | APRIL 2013

can't be stopped

March | April 2013 Bente Gallagher THEEASTNASHVIL

LIAN.COM

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He’s Been Everywhere,

T

Story and photography by Heather Lose

he rock ‘n’ roll universe is studded with legends and stories, and one of its brightest, most fascinating luminaries is a figure operating in the shadows, far from the spotlight. “Road Mangler” Phil Kaufman is arguably the best-known road manager that has ever worked music’s highways, and his stories are intertwined with the stuff of legend.

Once upon a time, rock ‘n roll was lascivious and epic. Marauding rock gods and their minions roared from city to city, plundering women, trashing hotel rooms, and horrifying parents. Televisions were smashed on sidewalks. Vats of drugs and booze were shared openly. For the kids in the audience, it was all larger than life. For Kaufman, it was just another day on the road, and it was his responsibility to make sure the show went on.

Kaufman’s business card has two titles on it: “Road Manager Deluxe” — which is also the title of his autobiography, first published in 1993 — and “Executive Nanny Service,” the title bestowed upon him by Mick Jagger. He’s been wiping bottoms and warming bottles since 1968, when he took a job taking care of Mick and the boys while the Stones were in Los Angeles mixing Beggars Banquet. The job paid $100 a week.

Since then, Kaufman has worked with a cast of characters that includes Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, Frank Zappa, Etta James, Vince Gill, the Divinyls, Joe Cocker, Dwight Yoakam, Lynda Carter, and Nanci Griffith. To date, he’s only set one client on fire, which is a pretty good track record.

Kaufman has resided in East Nashville for seven years. Pulling up in front of his duplex, you know you’re in the right place when you see the Tennessee license plate that reads, “PH KAUF.” His home is full of memorabilia illustrating his many years in show business. The interview begins, and the zingers start flying.

Kaufman is funny, warm and smart. And he loves living on the East Side.

“It’s just a very comfortable place to live. It’s user and bruiser friendly. This street that I live on, it’s just two blocks long, and there are no sidewalks, so it just gives you that feel like you’re out in the country. I told my landlady, ‘You couldn’t get me out of here with dynamite.’ I just signed another three-year lease, and if I told you how much I pay, everybody would be knockin’ on my door. So I ain’t gonna tell ya. But it’s a hell of a deal,” he says.

This is a man who could live anywhere. He’s seen a lot of territory. Kaufman was born in Oceanside, N.Y., in 1935. His father’s side of the family was in showbiz; they were “vaudevillians,” according to Kaufman, and his dad was the leader of a big band

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in the ’30s. The family moved around a lot during Kaufman’s childhood, and he joined the Air Force in 1952. He ended up in the Korean War and was assigned to the 37th Bomb Squadron running photoreconnaissance missions. He left the Air Force in 1956 and traveled to Los Angeles in 1957.

Between the late ’50s and the late ’60s, Kaufman crisscrossed the planet, racking up a motley collection of hometowns and girlfriends and stories, a few stints in jail, and one notorious bunkmate who would later shock the world: Charles Manson.

Kaufman tells the story. “When I was in prison for marijuana, I didn’t get to pick my roommate. And this was a dorm situation. He was in the dorm, and I got to know him. It was 1965, ’66. Maybe ’67. And he was a singer; he played guitar and all that stuff. That was my contact with him. And then when he got out, I hung out with him for about three weeks, in about 1968, and then I divorced myself from him. (Editor’s note: The Tate/LaBianca murders took place in August 1969.) So that was my basic contact with Charlie. He used to call me on the phone. The last time he spoke with me, he was talking — I think it’s in my book — but I was going, ‘Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. You know the difference between you and I?’ I said, ‘You’re doing life and I’m living it.’ And then I hung up on him.

And I haven’t heard from him since.”

Kaufman left Terminal Island Prison in 1968 and drifted to Topanga Canyon in Los Angeles, a hilly area near Sunset Boulevard and Laurel Canyon populated with disenfranchised, hippie folks. It was later that year when he met the Stones and began “moving people, not equipment,” as his business card states. Kaufman describes his profession: “I’m a tour manager, but I was once a road manager, the difference being tour managers have iPods and electronic devices, and a road manager had a roll of quarters and a yellow legal pad, and a ‘Stop the bus, there’s a phone booth!’”

Has anything else changed out there on the road? He nods knowingly. “Well, the drugs and the groupies … that’s still going on, but it was rampant in the ’60s.

It was obligatory. You had to be crazy to be on the road, and so we were! But now, with the electronic age, people tell on each other. So it’s kind of hard to be crazy on the road if you have a significant other. Touch a tit, you’re gonna get a twit,” he laughs.

Does he miss the old days? “No. Nobody could have continued that and lived.” He pauses to amend his words. “Only Keith Richards, who can eat nails and piss rust; he’s the only one. Gram Parsons tried, and he died. He and Keith were buddies, and he was like, ‘Hey!’ They had similar tastes. ‘I can do what Keith does!’ Wrong.”

Kaufman is perhaps most famous for making a pact with Parsons that he couldn’t not keep. Kaufman was Parsons’ road manager for a while, and they also bummed around in their free time. In July 1973, Parsons and Kaufman went to the funeral of Clarence White, a fellow musician on the country rock scene in Los Angeles. Kaufman tells the story in his autobiography. “We had told Gram we wouldn’t let him have one of those long, family-and-friends funerals.” The two had gotten drunk after White’s funeral and made a pact that if either of them died anytime soon, “the survivor would take the other guy’s body out to Joshua Tree, have a few drinks, and burn it. The burning was the bottom line.”

Tragically, and ironically, Parsons died of an overdose of morphine and alcohol two months later. Kaufman managed to borrow a hearse from a friend and snagged Parson’s coffined body from LAX before it was flown down to New Orleans for the family. Kaufman and his partner in crime, Michael Martin, managed to talk their way through several layers of security, including a policeman who had to move his car so they could drive away with the casket. “At this point, we were getting a little giddy. We were driving out of the airport. We had Gram. We had our buddy in the back. We were talking to him. We said, ‘We got you, buddy.’”

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BUT NOW PHIL “ T HE ROA D M AN G L ER” KAUF M AN IS GOOD I N T HE ’ HOOD

Then the two, slinging back beer and Jack Daniel’s, drove to Joshua Tree National Monument and stopped near Cap Rock. Contrary to popular lore, there was no real significance to the place. The two had just gotten so drunk along the way that they couldn’t drive any further.

They got the coffin out of the hearse and opened the lid; poured in the high-octane gas they’d bought during the trip and lit a match. They watched as their friend was reduced to ash and then they hightailed it out of there.

These days, Kaufman spends his hours with motorcycles, friends and stints on the road here and there. Regretfully, he missed this year’s Tomato Art Fest because he was in Los Angeles taping an interview for the BBC. He’d like to petition for an encore because, “My dance card is empty!” He’s going on a music cruise with East Nashville musician (and The East Nashvillian May/June 2013 cover story subject) Todd Snider in February, and the two of them just finished up a video.

“I just did a video with one of my favorite new guys in the whole world, Todd Snider. Todd has his own ZIP code. We just did a video of a wedding. I’m not sure what the sexual orientation was — who was the bride and who was the groom — but it was really fun.” Snider’s take on the proceedings? “We made a video of a gay wedding set in the South. The main visual we wanted to get was two men kissing while other clearly straight and clearly southern men cheered. Kaufman played the father of a groom and gave his son away to be married.”

Kaufman is in a motorcycle gang called the Sons of Arthritis — a bunch of old cats who like to ride Harleys. “You know the saying, ‘oy?’ That’s our call. When you get on the bike you go, ‘OY!’ All the motorcycles have electric starts; if you use a kick-start you can’t be in the Sons of Arthritis. What we do is … we ride! And we stop! And we pee! And we ride, and we stop, and we pee!” Kaufman and his cohorts (who shall go unnamed by request) enjoy their road trips, recently thundering up the highway to Owensboro, Kentucky, the home of Moonlight Barbeque, a joint specializing in lamb and mutton barbeque. “The guys say, ‘How far is it?’ I say, ‘About four Oys! — maybe three if you take the Interstate!’”

Kaufman is currently working with a young musician named J.J. Lawhorn.

“I’ve been working all these years with artists as they matured, and now here’s this

young kid that I think you might want to keep your ears open for.” He is still in demand for his “nanny services” on the road. “Some people call and ask me for advice — mostly for touring. In my line of work, the music is secondary. It’s ‘get the people from A to B, collect the money, hotels, airplanes’ — that’s it, you know? If the music is great, that’s a bonus. That’s good if you like it. If you don’t, you still go to work every day!”

He expounds on what it’s like on the road these days. “It looks really romantic, especially from the audience’s point of view, but if you have a long tour, it’s very tiresome; you’re away from home, you’re away from East Nashville. You know, I’ll tell you something: I was just in L.A., and I just couldn’t wait to get back here! Like I’m sitting here in my chair now, here, with all my crap, and this is it! This is home, this is East Nashville!” His eyes crinkle. That happens a lot. Here’s a guy who has lived a couple of lifetimes already, and still finds the joy in each day.

Nanci Griffith provides her view of what’s so special about Kaufman: “I love working with Kaufman because he’s a guy that makes decisions ... and he doesn’t nag me!” According to Eastside musician Elizabeth Cook, he possesses special skills. “It can get a little gangster out there in promoter land; you want a man that has access to a hearse working for you,” she says. Todd Snider has praises, and a prediction, of his own. “He will be the first tour manager to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. America is like a little backyard to him. He could draw it from memory. He has seen everything a couple of times, and he never takes anything very seriously, while very seriously getting everything done.”

Snider continues, “He asked me how old I was once. I said, ‘I’m getting old.’ He answered, ‘And who’s getting young?’ I’ll never forget it.”

Kaufman serves as Road Mangler Delux at Executive Nanny Services and is seen here in his East Nashville world headquarters.

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The Wild Feathers (l-r) Brett Moore, Ben Dumas, Ricky Young, Taylor Burns, & Joel King Photograph by Travis Commeau Nov. 8, 2020

online exclusives The Wild Feathers Satisfy Old Tastes and New Cravings with Medium Rarities

After 10 years as a band and eight signed to Warner Music, The Wild Feathers were ready to strike out on their own as true independents when a tiny virus and a worldwide pandemic threw them off course. But they found a new path that led through the music of their past and into the future — both of which find a place on their new album, Medium Rarities.

STORY BY RANDY FOX

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Justin Townes Earle Requiem For A Friend The story of JTE’s musical journal is told through exclusive interviews with producers Adam Bednarik, R.S. Field, Steve Poulton, and Skylar Wilson.

STORY BY TIM STEGALL

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Justin Townes Earle Photograph by Eric England Gallatin Ave., East Nashville Feb. 23, 2019

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The Lonely Bird IN SH E L BY B OT TOMS

By Jon Gugala

T

he summer heat hadn’t broken in late September for Jenny Piper’s habitual five-mile walk along the Shelby Bottoms Greenway when she saw it. “It moved so slowly, like, ‘Hey, look at me,’” Piper says of the bird pecking through the grass just off the asphalt path. Its beak was too small for a parrot, but it had the same flashy coloration of a tropical bird. “That’s crazy,” she remembers thinking. Then, “My son’s going to love this.”

Piper, who carries her phone with her for music as she exercises, snapped a few quick photos. She crept forward; although “it didn’t seem scared,” she says, the bird slipped into the undergrowth, and disappeared.

When Piper brought her photos to Denise Weyer, Shelby Bottoms Nature Center director, a few days later, Piper began to lay out what she’d seen: a scarlet body with shimmering blue markings; a gold head; a long, pattered tail; and a disinterest in flying.

“How big was it?” Weyer asked.

“Three feet?” Piper said.

Weyer, a self-described “bird person,” didn’t think long before saying, “We don’t have any birds like that.”

“Well, you have one.”

Piper and Weyer had never seen the strange bird in Shelby Bottoms for good reason: Golden Pheasants (Chrysolophus pictus) are native to the mountains of Central and Western China.

In fact, many people have no idea that even the more common Ring-necked Pheasant is also a non-indigenous species in the United States. Imported directly from Shanghai to Oregon in 1881, it anchored and spread its seed here as it had in Europe. With established populations in many of the 50 states, it’s become a staple of the American outdoorsman.

South Dakota went so far as to name it its state bird—one of only three introduced species to be chosen across the U.S. The Golden Pheasant, a more-striking relative, has an even older history in the U.S., with many historians tracing it back to George Washington’s Mount Vernon estate in the 18th century. Despite this country’s fertile pheasant soil, the Golden Pheasant has never taken root, in Nashville or elsewhere.

Now a single Golden Pheasant, the peacock of its family tree, roosts alone in Shelby Bottoms.

If she were a betting woman, Weyer would put her money on the source of the city park’s newest resident: A backyard enthusiast’s escaped pet.

The Golden Pheasant is described frequently as one of the hardiest species to breed in captivity, and East Nashville, she says, is in the midst of DIY fowl-cultivation mania.

“Most of the [non-native] species that we have, particularly avian, are always associated with humans,” Weyer says. “We couldn’t keep a bird out of this park when they’re just in the neighbor-next-door’s yard.”

At least five of the seven exotic birds living in Tennessee currently have populations in Shelby Bottoms, including species of swan, dove, pigeon, and duck.

To be clear, this is not Red Alert for Weyer and her staff like it would be for other, more “invasive” species. If the insidious kudzu vine (home of record: Japan) were to pop up, she says, there are detailed procedures ready to be implemented to ensure its thick blanket of vines doesn’t smother native flora.

No, a solitary Golden Pheasant roaming the park has a much simpler, more gruesome solution.

In his “Leviathan,” Thomas Hobbes described man as animal by likening his life to one of “continual fear, and danger of violent death … solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Such is the life of a pheasant in the wild.

On God’s green earth, for the Ring-necked Pheasant to celebrate a birthday is an accomplishment, and its goal is a lot like a Lana Del Rey song: a lot of sex before a tragic death.

“So I was looking at the predators for pheasants,” I say to Weyer.

“Yeah,” she says, groaning.

“Foxes.”

“Yes.” “Coyotes, to a lesser extent.”

“Yes.” “Skunks.”

“Yes.” “Raccoons.”

“Could be,” she says.

“Hawks, owls.”

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“Hawks and owls, especially.”

“I can’t imagine any of these on the list that you don’t have here,” I say.

“We have all of those.”

“It’s not looking good.”

“It’s not looking good, but I can’t believe it’s been alive as long as it has,” Weyer says. “With its bright coloration, I was sure the first time I heard of this bird would be the last time.” Instead, she says, there have been four other known sightings over the course of almost two months.

“I’ve read that they’re hardy birds, and I guess he is.”

It was early on a Monday morning in November, and I was the only person I saw on the five miles of the grass trails I ran. Then I saw it: a startled scarlet bird, maybe three feet long, on the path. It began to run, pacing itself 10 feet ahead, before ducking into the underbrush.

Believing it an escaped tropical pet and too cold to fly (headline reads: “Local Man Rescues Exotic Bird”), I followed it, bent double, taking slaps of poison ivy vine to the face on the narrow deer path, aware I was tracing an “Alice in Wonderland” plot point.

As bright as the bird was, I soon lost it, and after a few more minutes I gave up—work started in an hour. I guessed an exotic bird would make an easy meal for a lucky raccoon, and that would be that.

Then, two days later, I saw it again, as have at least four others, pecking among the grass off the Greenway.

The Tennessee state bird is the mockingbird, but as far as I’m aware Nashville is without an official city bird. Ditto for the East Nashville post.

As I think about myself, a recent transplant joining a community with its own menagerie of transplants, I can think of no better bird to represent us all: exotic, flashy, far from the soil of our birth but with teeth bared to survive in this, our found home—and, with any luck, to someday find a mate.

For East Nashville, I vote for the Golden Pheasant.

If he can make it, maybe there’s yet hope for us all.

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Where Goes The Neighbor

T

By Timothy C. Davis

hings stand out because they’re different from other things.

Some things stand out because of quality. A really high-end diamond stands out because of its cut and clarity, shining brighter, seemingly, than those around it.

A top-notch musician stands out because of his or her facility at playing an instrument. A great singer has a voice that rings cool, clear and true, or else red-hot and unforgettable. Everyone else just sounds like, well, everyone else.

And some things stand out because they’re trying too hard, or not hard enough. The 45-year-old manboy in face paint and a jersey at a Titans game. That dude wearing a T-shirt to a funeral. The big, tall, gawky, pastel-painted house-looking things you see all over East Nashville.

Wait: What are those things, anyway? You’ve seen them by now, provided you even occasionally leave your house. They’re tall, they’re angular, and they’re awkward.

If Ric Ocasek were a piece of housing, he’d look like one of these. They usually come two to a property, connected by a building code loophole often derisively referred to as an “umbilical cord,” and are often parked between two other houses or dwellings of, let’s say, more conventionally “home-looking” homes. Some folks call them “tall skinnies.” Many, especially in the last year, call them something more. An eyesore, or worse: a problem.

You’ve probably seen those signs in folks’ yards that say “Build Like You Live Next Door.” Indeed, they seem to be everywhere.

Those signs, in and of themselves, don’t solve anything, however. They’re the real-world equivalent of a Facebook status update that 158 people “like” and then promptly forget as they scroll down the rest of their feed.

Why? Because the builders of a particular property (or, rather, the LLC that is financing said building) could

be based, quite literally, anywhere. Anywhere that someone has a certain amount of money to spend and feels confident that by spending some of his money now, he will enjoy even more money in the future.

You may have heard in the last year or so various estimates concluding that Nashville’s population may increase by 300,000-500,000 people by the year 2030.

Sounds all science-fiction-y, doesn’t it? Consider, however, that it was 15 years ago that George W. Bush was first elected president. Fifteen years, unless you’re 15 years old yourself, isn’t such an unimaginable chunk of time.

It’s a problem a lot of cities would kill to have. Nashville’s relatively bustling economy, “It city” status in national magazines, and general quality of life have all sorts of people from all strata of society wanting to relocate here, and not all of them are failed butt-rock musicians.

These people will need a place to live. Builders and A mere six years real estate honchos are well aware of this. They are also ago, the big topic aware of the fact that East Nashville gets its own share of of conversation laudatory press, as well it should, with its inimitable mix on the East Side of unique people, places and things to do. If they can at centered on how all afford it, people like to be around other people doing gentifrication would cool things. affect the long-term Which is why East Nashville, in whose warm embrace cohesiveness & you’re likely reading this right now, is about to see a character of the building boom like this side of the city hasn’t seen in neighborhood.

Nashville as a almost 50 years. whole continues to struggle with these ut where will all these people—these hypothetical, challenges but, as projected people—live? Areas like Cleveland Park the pandemic has and Eastwood Neighbors and Inglewood, both made clear, change South and North, are already seeing single-family homes happens — whether going for tens of thousands of dollars more than they we like it or not. were valued at even five years ago—and that’s if you can even find a quality home that’s for sale and doesn’t require an almost total rebuild.

That’s where two big catchword phrases start entering into the picture: “Density” and “Infill.”

Density is a byword for “more people living in an area, paying property and other taxes to help the economy, without building new subdivisions.” Density, it is often said, is essential to developing an urban core, something that not only helps sustain cities, but also protects them against the sort of inside-out urban decay that residents of cities like Memphis and Detroit know only too well. Common ways of attaining density are through condominium homes, cottage homes, apartment housing, and, increasingly, the “tall skinnies” idea of having two residences on a piece of property where only one stood before. This sort of density is often popular when the piece of property a particular dwelling sits on becomes more valuable

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than the structure itself, which leads to the property being bought out by a developer (or LLC), who then razes the structure and, if current zoning allows it, builds a duplex or other, non-single-family home.

Infill, or infill housing, is the insertion of additional housing into an already-approved neighborhood. This can come in the form of additional units built on the same lot, divid-

But you always get a few bad apples in a housing boom.

“The pressure from the Planning Department is clearly for more density,” Davis continues. “They will not deny this. Some neighbors want it, and many neighbors in my area [Inglewood/Rosebank] do not. Each of us East Nashville Council Members likely has a slightly different take on it. In my mind, the best balance for my district is pockets of density

hood?

ing existing homes into multiple units, or, perhaps most commonly, by creating new residential lots by further extending lot lines—further subdividing a subdivision, if you will. In many cases, the existing infrastructure may be sufficient, or need relatively little work to accommodate the additional units.

As often happens, infill structures sometimes clash with the neighboring, pre-existing ones, at least aesthetically. This leads to your “Build Like You Live Next Door” signs, to your, “Oh, you mean those Gumby-looking things?” comments when you bring up the issue to your co-worker.

Truly ugly things never really stand the test of time, of course—think the Ford Edsel, or stonewashed jeans.

Think hate. For our purposes, think architecture.

Cover illustration by Dean Tomasek I asked Anthony Davis, Metro Councilman for District 7, what his constituents have to say to him about on specific sites infill development, or if they ever broach the [using SP zoning tools], and also trying to topic at all. preserve the single family housing stock and “Density has probably been the largest the character through our neighborhoods. issue, primarily that fear of losing the charac- Conversely, I am more inclined to say no to ter of the neighborhood you bought into,” he a developer attempting to do a ‘cottage develsays. “Also, some of the developers are simply opment’ on what would normally be a lot building crap. It’s not everyone—we have a lot with a couple of homes on it. To me, that is of infill development that looks really good, an attempt to cram in homes for profit, not to and actually matches the surrounding homes. ‘add value’ to Inglewood.”

Here’s another thing to consider: In a housing boom, there must also be a range of housing price points.

Not everyone is able to drop a quarter-million dollars or more (or a lot more, if recent $750,000-plus homes on streets like Fatherland are any indication) on a house.

Not everyone, in fact, even wants a house in the first place.

Many people, as the old cliché goes, are married to their careers. Some are recent college graduates, others still young professional couples who don’t want children. Some are same-sex couples. Some feel more comfortable in an urban environment. Some, perhaps, just really hate yard work.

Maintaining a range of housing price points, then, requires a certain amount of density.

In almost every city, neighborhood gentrification follows a general pattern: A neighborhood, by nature of its affordable rent, is home to a cadre of artists, musicians, aesthetes, and other creative types. People from elsewhere (usually elsewhere in the same city, at first) like what that area has to offer. They visit the area.

They visit the area more often. They decide they’d like to live there. Other houses are renovated.

Restaurants open. Cool things abound. Soon, the unmistakable whiff of profitability starts wafting up. Developers and speculators move in. Cool, quirky businesses can’t afford rent any longer. Landlords and others see they’re sitting on a gold mine, and raise rents for the trailblazing artsy types too. Fast-forward the whole thing about 10 years, and all of a sudden you’ve got an area where the businesses and people who helped make an area cool to begin with can no longer afford to live there. It’s like that old Yogi Berra quip: “Nobody goes there anymore—it’s too crowded.”

There is a workable medium, Davis says, and it’s residents “owning ownership” of their neighborhoods, and, conversely, →

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land-thirsty developers not looking at our little subsection of Nashville like it’s last call for overhaul.

“We don’t want to be worried about the infill development all the time, looking over our shoulders,” Davis says. “An example is the duplex bill. We need to fix it and we need to fix it yesterday. Maybe neighbors wouldn’t be so upset with the infill if we had better guidelines in place. The planning department is working on the new drafts now, and our neighbors

need to pay attention to it. The draft loses the umbilical cord between duplexes, allowing for a shared wall, or two units detached with a six-foot setback [space in between the homes]. I personally think with all the discussions we’ve had in Rosebank, it needs to be attached, or have a 10-foot setback. I’ve had conversations with others that only want a shared-wall duplex.”

On top of that, many, including District 6 metro councilman Peter Westerholm, caution

that talks over a specific piece of property must also factor in not only today’s neighbors, but tomorrow’s.

“Discussions can be difficult because, in many cases, you’re trying to think of what’s best for this parcel of land for the next 80 years,” Westerholm says. “And you’re trying to figure out how that will relate to adjacent properties for that period, as well as how that area might also change.

“The challenge for cities, for Nashville, and for East Nashville is crafting a long-term vision that recognizes the benefits and consequences of each of our decisions,” he continues.

“From the big ones like moving forward with a better mass transit system like the AMP, to the smaller ones like a rezoning going on down the street, or as it often is, next door. Each decision has an impact. Recognizing what these impacts will be and acting accordingly is the challenge for all of us—for planners, for politicians, and for residents. Our neighborhood will change; it is up to us to shape the change to ensure it reflects what we value most in our neighborhoods.”

Like Casey Kasem, Westerholm believes it’s possible to keep our feet on the ground while still reaching for the stars. Both Davis and Westerholm note that the only way real change can happen is for folks to get involved, and to change whatever rules and restrictions are currently on the books. Until then, developers can feel free to run the table, even if we feel like their game is garden-variety “dirty pool.”

But can you blame a developer for doing what’s within his (if he’s a corporation, he’s a person, legally speaking) legal rights? Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything about it. If there were something on the books that said triplexes were permitted if connected by a series of conjoined Rubik’s Cubes, rest assured that some developers would have their people haunting vintage toy stores and eBay tomorrow. It’s a business, as traded professional athletes say all the time, and the market makes the rules.

However, there is a human element to this story, as there is to every story worth telling.

Developers can’t run roughshod over a city or its citizens if they wish to continue making our acquaintance. People don’t like to feel like they’re being taken advantage of, or at the very least don’t care for it once it’s been pointed out to them. Keep building more “crap,” as Davis aptly puts it, and you’ll risk pissing people off. Keep making the city look bad, and your one-time rubberstamped go-ahead might start reading “REJECTED.”

“B

uild Like You Live Next Door” is one thing. Perhaps it would be instructive for folks interested in this issue on a deeper level to turn that around for a second. What if we tried living like we built next door?

26

theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

Zac Thomas of Woodland Street Partners and Paragon Group echoes everyone we talked about for this story in saying that, in the case of residential development in East Nashville, talk isn’t cheap—in that not talking can be expensive for everyone involved.

“Dialogue is critical,” Thomas says. “We favor proactive engagement with the community to help shape what we build. In areas that help by providing us with active feedback, developers have the opportunity to better understand the goals and needs of a changing community. Every year, we’re improving and expanding our community engagement efforts to help us do that faster and in smarter ways.

We believe that a builder cannot be successful over the long-term without a community commitment that includes substantive dialogue and engagement. We engage in dialogue to help learn, to improve how we build, to tailor what we build, and to help us prevent repeating something that wasn’t popular or a flat-out mistake.”

It’s Thomas’s job—any developer’s, when you get down to it—to know what can and cannot be built on a piece of property. As such, if zoning, overlays and codes allow, it can be built. However, many citizens don’t feel privy to this information, even as it is, by law, readily available to view (if, admittedly, not always easy to find). I asked him how Metro could improve upon community education and awareness where residential development is concerned.

“We don’t know of the full range of Metro’s community education and awareness efforts,” he says. “Metro does make an enormous amount of information on zoning, overlays, and construction/development topics available. There are several places where relevant development and overlay information is posted regularly online. The key is knowing where to look and how to interpret the information. Providing a single place to look online that aggregates all relevant upcoming construction and development activity would likely help to simplify and streamline things.

We believe that Metro has something like that in the works. But one way or another, we all need to work to reduce the incidence of a concerned resident’s first look at a project occurring after the chance for community feedback has passed. There’s responsibility there on the part of developers, Metro, and the residents.”

Thomas thinks that good business—better business—ultimately grows out of good business sense and right action.

“A short-term focus on return on investment can get any business into trouble,” he says. “If something is unpopular, opinions shift against it. We are hopeful that reactions to poorly done development don’t overcompensate in a way that creates new problems without first considering the trade-offs. If demand for homes is high and you limit the size of the homes,

the price per square foot will likely climb faster than it would otherwise. If demand for homes is high and you rezone to prevent additional density, home prices likely climb faster than they would otherwise. In both instances, economic diversity is lost, which fundamentally alters the fabric of a community.”

Which is to say: You can’t stop progress, and the rich will get richer. All those clichés, which are, incidentally, probably correct, fundamentally. Culturally, you’ll price out a lot of

the quirkiness that East Nashville prides itself on. You’ll lose the ever-changing collective face—and faces—that make the area so livable and desirable. You’ll lose your hot “it city” status, and not too many media outlets find time to make listicles about America’s most “lukewarm” places to visit. Prevent density, as Thomas notes, and home prices will go up.

Which is great if you’re currently a homeowner, but not if you’re looking for a home, or CO N T I N U E D O N PAG E 47

Learn

why Harpeth Hall is the school for you!

For information on admission and financial aid, please visit: HarpethHall.org/admission

[

Individual campus tours available daily, please schedule by appointment.

A COLLEGE PREPARATORY SCHOOL FOR GIRLS IN GRADES 5–12

10th Anniversary Issue theeastnashvillian.com

27

tOMAtO ARt

EASt nAShVIllE nEIGhBORS

reBOuND frOm THe maY 2010 fLOOD

AnD hOLIDAy

EAST NASHVILLIANS

in and around east nashville

ALAN murdock & cATHErINE mcTAmANEy

Bob Acuff

FROM eyesORe TO AsseT: TROUBLED CORNER GETS A FACELIFT

Takes a BiTe OuT Of Crime

eric Jans

matt Charette

The Long Road to East Nashville

the "mayor" of east nashville

East Nashville

Flood Survivors East Nashville’s Newest Tradition

Running Community

Winfrey Vol. 2, Issue 3 January / February 2012

Carol Williams

reMeMBering

Vic VaraLLo

SHELBY PARK 100 & COUNTING

Cook

TOO OLD TO DIE YOUNG

REEVES GABRELS

The Transformation of Will Hoge

IN THE WORDS OF SHAKESPEARE

A Celebration of Home

Idea Hatchery

DEBUT OF 5 POINTS COLLABORATIVE

Conundrum

In Lockeland Springs

THE CURE’S

The Evolution of East Nashville’s . C OM Main Street

WEIRD AMERICAN COUSIN

Stuart Duncan 1

|

Nashville Storm

| East's Dark Side . C OM

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL. III ISSUE 2

November | December 2012 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

WIDE-OPEN EAST COUNCIL RACES

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL III, ISSUE 1

Elizabeth Terminator the Second

On the Run

HOW EAST NASHVILLE GOT ITS GROOVE BACK

VOL II, ISSUE 5 MAY/JUNE 2012

Vol. 2, Issue 4 March / April 2012

Vernon

Vol. 2, Issue 2 SNovember/December 2011

East Nashville’s invitation to party

The Man Behind the Curtain

ALWAYS FREE!

BoB Moore

RETURN OF THE TOMATO

Inside the Lives of

Todd snidEr

Music Legend

Vol. 2, Issue 1 September/October 2011

Vol. 1, Issue 6 July/August 2011

Vol. 1 Issue 5 may/June 2011

THE “ambassador”

of THE yEAr

hAppenIngs

FEStIVAl

Vol. 1 issue 4 march–april 2011

Vol. 1 Issue 3 January–february 2011

Vol. 1 Issue 2 October–December 2010

Vol. 1 Issue 1 August/September 2010

FALL

7th AnnuAl

NEIGHBORHOOD KITCHEN

1

NEW BREWS!

PLAYOFFS OR BUST TITANS PREVIEW

MEET THE CURATORS

WILD, WILD EAST TALES OF THE JAMES GANG IN EDGEFIELD

September | October 2012 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

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JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL. III ISSUE 3

1

Januar y | Februar y 2013

July | august vol. iii, issue 6

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Tabitha Tuder's family is not giving up | The weeks can't be stopped love, murder & spaceships the works of Bente Gallagher March | April 2013 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

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May | June 2013

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“Two Hands With Heart” Stellar design by Benjamin Rumble

November | December Vol. IV Issue 2

January | February Vol. IV Issue 3

This year’s winners work from two different perspectives to create a whole community

Our special collaboration with Hatch Show Print East NashvillE UNdErgroUNd | homEschooliNg | aNita hartEl | Bill | hot chickEN | viNtagE viNyl July | Brimm August 2013 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

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JACOB JONES • ARTIST DAVID FISHER • THE NEW FACE OF GALLATIN GMO RADIOS • THE CAYCE PLACE CONUNDRUM

1

November | December 2013

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September | October Vol. V Issue 1

Guitar Town FEATURING

Audley Freed | Sam Williams | Keith Gattis | Jamie Rubin | Jim Oblon | Ted Drozdowski Joe McMahan | Richie Owens | Tim Carroll | Jay Rutherford & Wojtek Krupka | John Jackson John Mark Painter | Reeves Gabrels | Will Kimbrough | Paul Niehaus | Jay Joyce Jack Silverman | Jonas Stein & Kingsley Brock | Kevin Edlin | Joe Pisapia

THE PLEASURE PRINCIPLE:

WELLNESS UNHINGED

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL. V ISSUE 2

July | August 2014 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

Sept | Oct 2014

1

5/6/14 2:27 PM

COOKING IN THE HOOD:

All QuAd’s Children

Home of

East Side’s Growing

THE

Comedy Scene

is cause for applause

MUSE

“TO CHOOSE or NOT TO CHOOSE?”

Is that the question for

ROCK’n’ROLL REAL to REEL

28

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

COOPER CREEK

The ‘Great Flood’ left a lasting and costly legacy

1

Jan | Feb 2015

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

Steelism is building music for the future on a solid foundation

Know Your Neighbors:

Scott Stone + Alison Egerton

1

theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

teaches kids the fundamentals of the game — and more

Julie Sola

makes the stars shine from Kanye to KISS

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

The

LOVE FRUIT! the Sound Shop story

East nashvillE sports

The NonBattle of Nashville

It All Comes Out In

THE WASH

Jamie Rubin’s impossible dream gets a team

when it comes to music venues, Chark Kinsolving does it all

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

1

July | August 2015

the ‘BEast’ is released on Woodland

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

Featuring

CHUCK MEAD • ANDREW COMBS • JULIE CHRISTENSEN • PETER HYRKA • RENO BO • ALANNA ROYALE THE SMOKING FLOWERS • BLACKFOOT GYPSIES • ANDREA ZONN • BOBBY BARE, JR. • THE FUTURE AMERICAN HOTEL • TOM MASON & THE BLUE BUCCANEERS • PATRICK SWEANY • LANGHORNE SLIM

Going BIG

STACIE HUCKEBA May | June 2015

ue

3rd Annual Music Iss

Design, Build, PLAY

Artist in Profile

1

W here Dreams Live

TomatoArt Fest 2015

‘We Cut a Lot of Hits’

Bonnaroo Works Fund

Charlie McCoy & The Escorts March | April 2015

HOLLAND

+

Artist in Profile

Ashshahid Muhammad

How they ushered in a new Music City

Artist in Profile

DeAndre

Lilly Hiatt finds her own path to success

Also

@

CARAMEL | CIGARS | SCOOTERS | JEWELRY | MUCH MORE

Nov | Dec 2014

On the Banks of

DAVID GEHRKE

The 2014

HOLIDAY Page GIFT GUIDE 41

Musical Odyssey

Artist in Profile

Know Your Neighbor BOOKS | PERFUME | CHOCOLATE | RECORDS | PATCHES

The

LOWER CAVES

Brent Little captures musical magic on analogue tape in a digital world

ANTHONY GUERRIERO

LITTLE LEAGUE

Building Studio

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL. VI ISSUE 1

a voice beyond THE VOICE

East Nashville

P oWell Architecture +

JULY | AUGUST VOL. V ISSUE 6

Sarah POTENZA

1

Know Your Neighbor: PIANO MAN: GRANT HOUSTON & AIR GUITAR GOD: WHIT HUBNER + Artist in Profile: DEAN TOMASEK

@

East Side Schools?

Serving Up Musical Inspiration, One Power Chord at a Time

Brett Withers

January | February 2014 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN .COM

Know Your Neighbor: Special Edition Q&A WITH CANDIDATES FOR COUNCIL DISTRICTS 5, 6, & 7

@

Fanny’s House of Music

how Quadrafonic Sound Studios became ground zero for the other side of Nashville

The EAST NASHVILLIANS of the Year &

DISGRACELAND • JOE MCMAHAN • WARREN PASH & THERESA KEREAKES

1

MAY | JUNE VOL. V ISSUE 5

MARCH | APRIL VOL. V ISSUE 4

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL. V ISSUE 3

also

THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

Know Your Neighbor: DAVE CRUMPTON + SUNNY BECKS-CRUMPTON = HENRIETTA CRUMPTON

S H R I M P & G R I T S | T E N N 16

@

4.5master_CA_F.indd 1

@

1

RIVERWOOD MANSION | ONE STONE CHURCH | NEW MEDICINE

@

March | April 2014 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

May| | June June 2014 May 2014 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM 11

WATERING THE SEEDS Notes for Notes helps young musicians pursue their dreams INSIDE THE FRAME Singer-songwriter Scot Sax makes a film about songwriting 1

September | October 2015 THEEASTNASHVILLIAN.COM

1

- 2015 East Nashvillians of theYear -

Artist in Profile: MERRY BETH MYRICK | Know your Neighbor: BOB BORZAK

Artist in Profile: AARON MARTIN | Know Your Neighbor: MELANIE COCHRAN

DARRELL DOWNS, KELLY PERRY & MATT CHARETTE

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL.VI ISSUE 2

‘Monumental Stuff’

DREW HOLCOMB makes a joyful noise

The Real Mark Huff

Music City Classical

Nashville is the well that never runs dry

ALIAS Chamber Ensemble begins the new year with its third album and a renewed sense of purpose

Ears Wide Open

Super Powers

Nashville Symphony is seeking ‘hidden gems’ for Accelerando

How a move to East Nashville invigorated NPR’s lead music critic Ann Powers

It’s an Ornaments Christmas, Charlie Brown

Rock & Roll Radio, Let’s Go!

For a decade, Jen Gunderman and her musical collaborators have made every Christmas a ‘loo-loo’

WXNA wants the airwaves and it wants them now

The 2015

DOG TOYS | SWEETS | JEWELRY | SOAPS | CIGARS | CLOTHES | MUSIC

HOLIDAY Page GIFT GUIDE 41

WINE | BOOKS | ORGANIC GOODS | ANTIQUES | ENTERTAINMENT

MARCH | APRIL VOL.VI ISSUE 4

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL.VI ISSUE 3

Beyond FAITH

Miracles in theMaking

Feel the Love

Lost and Found Pets Facebook page helps reunite lost pets and their owners

Valentine’s Weekend Guide

Before Sunrise

KEEP

A-Movin’

Memphis legend Sam Phillips had roots in East Nashville

Parks & Amplification Inside the East Nashville noise wars

Whether it’s singing, performing, or flexing her muscles, Dorothy Gilmore-Seavers has no time for standing still

Artist in Profile: SARA LEDERACH + KATIE WOLF | Know Your Neighbor: KATY MCWHIRTER

MARCH | APRIL VOL.VII ISSUE 4

MAY | JUNE VOL.VI ISSUE 5

BottomsUp!

How Cinderella Sound Studio helped shape Nashville music history

Building community on the East Side, one pint at a time

Karma &

Karisma

Huzzah!

Richie Lee has been changing lives in East Nashville for a decade, and he’s just getting started

With pill and willow, Phoenix of East Nashville is helping keep vintage base ball alive

There Goes the Neighborhood Market

The Heat Is On

East Nashville author serves up the lowdown on the city’s hot chicken craze

Walmart calls it quits in East Nashville

Unbound & Unabashed Aaron Lee Tasjan finds his place in the crowd

Wild Feathers

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Lessons in enlightenment

in the Wind An American band chases the dream

through gardening

Faith In Music

Raising the Bar Development doesn’t have to be a dirty word

The Rev. Keith Coes spreads the gospel of rock & roll in Music City

Venus In Exile The emancipation of Elizabeth Cook

{Artist in Profile: John Cannon | Know Your Neighbor: John Dyke}

Air Americana: WMOT ROOTS RADIO 89.5 LAUNCHES

Know your Neighbor: C H U C K B E A R D

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL.VII ISSUE 1

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL.VII ISSUE 2

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL.VII ISSUE 3

Loud & Rowdy

DAN BAIRD is still revving the rock & roll engine

A Shot of Mancini Magic

The ‘GARAGE COUNTRY’ World of

The stuff of legends:

GUY, SUSANNA & TOWNES

2016 MUSIC ISSUE Featuring

Robyn Hitchcock

Once upon a time on Chapel Avenue

JESSIE SCOTT Takes the helm at WMOT Roots Radio 89.5 FM ’80s punk pioneers

RAGING FIRE Rekindle the flame

+

ANDREW LEAHEY • ANDRIJA TOKIC • CAMERON HENRY • DUALTONE JOSH FARROW • THE DEAD DEADS • TODD AUSTIN • 3RD POWER • TOMMY WOMACK TIM EASTON • PASHUN MUSIC BRANCH • COWBOY KEITH THOMPSON MARK ROBINSON • FINANCIER • COSMIC THUG RECORDS • SARAH POTENZA

AUBRIE SELLERS Page 45

BATTLING THE GREAT BLACK SNAKE Singer/activist Michael Younger mixes revolution and rock & roll

ART Á LA CARTE Red House Imaginarium offers kids a wide selection of creative activities

Stunning tintype of the legendary Rodney Crowell by photographer Giles Clement

Callie Khouri’s characters have the depth of the Grand Canyon

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Marilyn Greer

A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Sarah Walden

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL.VIII, ISSUE 1

v

2017

ue

OMEN

in

Featuring...

A GOOD & WATCHFUL NEIGHBOR Von Moye’s combination of neighborhood watch and social media is making the East Side safer

Christian mothers with LGBT children

music

iss

BERMUDA TRIANGLE LILLY HIATT | TRISTEN | ANGALEENA PRESLEY Amy Black • Ruby Boots • Ariel Bui • Rorey Carroll • Sally Jaye • Heather Lose • Luella • Tomi Lunsford Anne McCue • Erin Rae McKaskle • mmhmm • Shilah Morrow • Megan Palmer • Queens of Noise India Ramey • Cole Slivka • Cristina Spinei • Kashena Sampson • Thelma and the Sleaze

BIG BEAT

SOUL MAN!

FOR THE 21ST CENTURY JD MCPHERSON DOES WHAT HE WANTS

JASON ESKRIDGE HAS A SPECIAL BRAND OF SOUL

AND

2017 EAST NASHVILLIANS OF THE YEAR

2017 HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE At The Theater Bug, kids learn to be ‘fearless and bold and brave’

‘A DREAM COME TRUE’

‘DRINKING BLACK COFFEE’

Friday Night Lights return to East Nashville

Andy Mumma’s business success is powered by community

PLUS

NORTHBOUND

THE BIG 6-0

An East Nashvillian in Alaska

When RCA Studio B opened in 1957, it became a cornerstone for Music Row

SIGN O’ THE TIMES

For more than 50 years, Weiss Liquors’ neon has been a beacon for thirsty East Siders

MOON TAXI FUELED FOR INTERSTELLAR OVERDRIVE

BLUE AS SHE WANTS TO BE

THOUGHT FACTORY

Chloe Stillwell likes to push it till someone says, ‘Whoa!’

GET ON THE BUS

Libby Callaway’s talents breathe life into The Callaway

The Jugg Sisters on mass transit

Plus

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Melissa Corbin

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL. IX ISSUE 1

H E R R ’ S

RADIO CAFE PERSEVERANCE SOCIETY Mac Hill isn’t done yet

NE W

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Danny Bua

A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Summer Triangle Pottery

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL. IX ISSUE 2

JULY | AUGUST VOL.VIII ISSUE 6

J O E L L E

CO LU M N

VIOLINS OF HOPE

Nashville Symphony brings the Weinsteins’ vision to town

B O O KI S H

A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Ed Nash

JANUARY | FEBRUARY ISSUE 9.3

MAY | JUNE VOL.VIII, ISSUE 5

MARCH | APRIL VOL.VIII, ISSUE 4

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL.VIII, ISSUE 3

NOVEMBER | DECEMBER VOL.VIII, ISSUE 2

BUGGIN’

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Chris Galloway A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Eastside Murals

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Niko Gehrke A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : James Threalkill

N A S H V I L L I A N

HALL OF HISTORY For five decades the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum has been telling the story of country music — and making its own history

MAMA BEARS And the

W

‘WHOA, DUDE, THAT’S SOME TOMATO!’

East Nashville Hope Exchange Requiem For Charlie Bob’s Know Your Neighbor: Evelyn Hale Artist in Profile: Timothy Weber

&EMOTION

Salvation Through Support

E A S T

THE FOOD SHERIFF Jesse Goldstein is blending design, branding, and culinary art at his East Nashville kitchen

Humanity

East Nashville author’s new novel, The Midnight Cool

T H E

DEEPER THAN SKIN Chris Saint Clark connects Kustom Thrills Tattoo with the local art community

LYDIA PEELLE

2016 East Nashvillians of the Year

Know your Neighbor: RANDY CRAWLEY

v

ALL THEM WITCHES’ POWERFUL, MUSICAL SORCERY DUALTONE’S GOT CHUCK The East Side's premier indie label releases the final album by the father of rock & roll

Get Behind the Mule

HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE

JULY | AUGUST VOL.VII ISSUE 6

Tomato Art Fest!

Harp legend’s new Inglehood EP pays tribute to the late composer, arranger, and conductor

The 2016

Guy Clark’s ‘Homegrown Tomatoes’ Know Your Neighbor: Sara Morse Norbert Putnam’s ‘Music Lessons’ Margot Café’s fête de la tomate

MAY | JUNE VOL.VII ISSUE 5

CHARLIE MCCOY

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL. IX ISSUE 3

T H E

H I S T O R Y C H A N N E L E D : Louis Buckley

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Crete the Cat

A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Michael Lapinski

Community Karma

&

1 6 T H A N N U A L T O M AT O A RT F E S T S P E C I A L E D I T I O N

Tommy Womack's

Nashville’s premier DIY venue

Drkmttr

dust bunnies: a memoir clears out the cobwebs

is reborn on the East Side

2 0 1 8

Nic Schurman creates a space where artists can thrive

JESSY

STAKES HER GROUND IN THE MUSIC CITY

KNOW YOUR NEIGHBOR: Dave Puncochar A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Ciona Rouse

Resurrecting a family legacy GREEN BRIER WHISKEY

With family, or on her own, Lillie Mae is here to play

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL. X ISSUE 3

BAD INFLUENCERS

BOOK ENDS New books from Randy Fox and Daryl Sanders broaden perspectives on Nashville's music history

K N O W Y O U R N E I G H B O R : Val Hoeppner

HELIUM HOT RODS Vroom Vroom Balloon keeps up the pace

G O -T O G U I D E + M A P

OLAN ROGERS’ FINAL FRONTIER Venturing into the unknown has never looked so bright

A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Kevin Gordon

SEPTEMBER | OCTOBER VOL. X ISSUE1

Judah & The Lion Prying light from the shadows

Wood, Wheels & Wonders

Dickie Soloperto puts wheels on a dream

2019 METRO ELECTIONS

Voter’s Guide

Mayoral & Council candidates weigh in on the topics that affect us most

Love, &OTHER 2019 MUSIC ISSUE

SPECIAL POWERS BUDDY & JULIE MILLER

STUFFY SHMITT • PEACHY • DREW HOLCOMB • THE MINKS SETH WALKER • IAN FERGUSON • TIM GENT • DARA TUCKER • TODD SNIDER

1 7 T H A N N UA L T O M AT O A RT F E S T . . . i s h

KNOW YOUR NEIGHBOR: Ross Collier A R T I S T I N P R O F I L E : Patrick Arena

Guide to the Holiday Season

Tomato Art Fest Event & Activities

Gorgeous artwork of master storyteller John Prine

by Scott Guion

Wilson

Steve Earle & The Dukes’ latest record, GUY, pays homage to legendary songwriter Guy Clark

neighbors to the north

I S S U E

and Bap • Tim Carroll • Cold Lunch Recordings Kari Leigh Ames • Ben Blackwell • The Boom Galaz • HOME • Anna Lundy • Brenda Colladay • Creamer • Mike Floss Jason • Jim Sherraden • Alicia Witt • Chase McGillis • Jonell Mosser Club Record Magnolia

Steve Earle Welcome to The Madisonian 36 pages decidated to our

M U S I C

JOHN PRINE & OH BOY RECORDS

Soft Junk Records’

SPECIAL INSERT

Lillie Mae

Egg samples from the hungry streets

to 21st century sustainability

JOHN AND LILLY HIATT ON FAMILY, TRAGEDY, AND LIFE TOLD THROUGH SONGS ROCK TO RECOVERY Musicians Wes Geer and Phil Bogard help folks get a groove on getting sober

JULY | AUGUST VOL. IX ISSUE 6

The Breakfast Eight

The Tennessee Conservationist

MARGOT CAFÉ & BAR EDESIA • SHUGGA HI BAKERY & CAFÉ S W E E T 16T H B A K E R Y • L O C K E L A N D T A B L E

FOOD & DRINK RECIPES FROM SOME OF EAST NASHVILLE’S FAVORITE SPOTS

MAY | JUNE VOL. IX ISSUE 5

MARCH | APRIL VOL. IX ISSUE 4

Heather Lose is guiding

I DREAM OF WEENIE • LYRA NASHVILLE CRAFT DISTILLERY ROSEPEPPER CANTINA • THE TREEHOUSE

Five years in, Aaron Lee Tasjan still finds his heart’s desire in his own backyard

N A S H V I L L I A N

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO

E A S T

Margo Price

¯ \_(ツ)_/ ¯ VOL. X ISSUE 5

MARCH | APRIL VOL. X ISSUE 4

Offbeat curiosities to satisfy your inner child HOW MUSIC CITY ROOTS Came to Madison

CID BULLENS Redefines the notion of creative transition

Louis York HIPPY TRIGGER JIM GREGORY makes trees count WILL HOGE shares the ride

THE WOOD BROTHERS find the secret is in the jam

S NDMATE D HIS BA E TARGET RMAN AN TTING TH STEVEEGO PPILY HI | DECEM BER AR HA NOVEM BER 2

2019 EAST NASHVILLIANS OF THE YEAR!

SHARES THEIR VISION

Robben

Ford with words of wisdom left by the tornado in the backyard of his Lockeland Springs home

Elephant feeling

the

Our New Reality As Seen Through The Eyes Of The Beholders

VOL. X ISSUE

10th Anniversary Issue theeastnashvillian.com

29

Robyn Hitchcock

ON E- OF -A- K I N D ART I ST F IN D S HI S M U S I C AL E VOLUT ION I S AL L ‘BI N G A BON G A BI N G BON G’ IN E A ST N ASH V IL L E

by To m m y Wo m ac k

‘‘I’m

sort of surprised there aren’t more of me around,” Robyn Hitchcock muses, stirring an iced coffee at Bongo East on a blistering Nashville afternoon, looking about like what you’d expect him to, in an untucked flower-print white shirt, dark jeans, and what look like low-cut Beatle boots.

He’s just been confronted with the notion that there is only one of him, and how he stumps any “sounds like” attempts there might be to pigeonhole him like the industry always feels the need to do. “I suppose I’m quite proud of that,” he says, English vowels bouncing around. “At least it means I’ve done something nobody else has done. It may be something that nobody else wanted or needed to do.

It might be like somebody building an extravagant folly, making a 50-foot statue of Mickey Mouse out of pine cones or something.”

Robyn Rowan Hitchcock was born in 1953 in Paddington, London. He is a man of both pop hooks and delicate sculpted silence, profoundly influenced by Bob Dylan and sounding nothing like him, curator of surrealist lyrics leavened with mordant mother country wit. He wrote one of the loneliest lyrics of all time, “Television, say you love me” and followed it with “bing a bong a bing bong!”

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theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

Right around a year ago, he and Australian singer-songwriter Emma Swift chose East Nashville as their home, and that probably says as much about the East Side as it does about Hitchcock. This loam has proven friendly purchase for the man who wrote “Sandra’s Having Her Brain Out.” From his classic work in the ’70s with The Soft Boys, to his MTV success in the ’80s as leader of Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians, to his collaboration with Peter Buck in the Minus 3 and his important work in the new millennium with Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings among others, Hitchcock has danced to his own beat and carried his own water. Be it electric jangly guitar riffs that ring and chime, to quiet acoustic moments that warm the room, Hitchcock is less psychedelic in the notes he plays as opposed to the words he sings. His lyrics are by turns whimsical and lacerating. He sings of love, he sings of lost love, he sings about insects, he sings about anything he bloody well wants to, and he’s been doing it for a fervent bunch of followers going on 40 years now. He has the voice to sing, “it rained like a slow divorce” with no smile, daring the listener to ask whether he’s being funny or is as serious as any man could be. You might say that’s the Dylan influence, but you can’t learn to be wry. You’ve either got it or you don’t.

Sipping his coffee, he gets back to the subject of his singularity. “I’m so obviously a product of my time,” he says, “My musical and lyrical approach comes out of the late ’60s, the kind of wordgasms that Bob Dylan and Captain Beefheart engaged in, to name two; I remember getting into them, William Burroughs, and Shakespeare when I was 16, and just everything opening up, word-wise. There were a lot of receptive minds around listening to and reading the same stuff. The cross-pollination between Dylan and the Beatles is legendary, and goes on to this day. So I’m surprised there aren’t more people who sound like me and have the attitude I have.”

To an observer, Hitchcock must leave all eccentricities to his art. There’s no hipster genius catatonia, none of Dylan’s Chin Gigante routine. Clear-skinned, bright-eyed, and delectably sane, white-headed and personable, he looks nowhere near his age of 63, suggesting that the man so steeped in psychedelia has done his composing with no more chemical goosing than what he was born with. He answers every question thoughtfully, occasionally pausing at some length as he divines just the right lyrical turn of phrase, being it of Mickey Mouse pinecone effigies or anything else of his choosing.

Speaking of singularities, Bryan Ferry was playing the Ryman that night and Hitchcock was excited to be going. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of person you can imagine actually existing in real life,” he says, as one might speculate of Hitchcock himself. “But he does exist on stage, and for a mortal he’s in good shape. He’s like a life-size Bryan Ferry doll which ages as everybody must. He’s neither fallen apart like Keith Richards, nor has he desperately tried to fight off time like Jagger. I haven’t seen him for two years, so maybe it’s all changed, maybe he’s sprouted brambles and tulips and is staggering around carrying a watering can patting a horse, talking in a west country brogue.” Have they ever met? “I poured a cup of tea for him once in Norway.” →

Robyn Hitchcock Photograph by John Partipilo.

Bongo East, Sept. 6, 2016

VOL. VII, ISSUE 1

SEPT | OCT 2016

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In and amongst his touring schedule, Hitchcock has been holing up, a bit at a time, in Raconteur Brendan Benson’s well-appointed studio just off Music Row. A few days after meeting at Bongo Java, Robyn sits in Benson’s control room with a hollow-bodied Gibson diffidently finger-picking an overdub.

The track they’re working on, “1970 in Amber,” about days gone by and memories that remain, is signature Hitchcock, but also not. With a pumping acoustic rhythm guitar, stacked harmonies from Wilco’s Pat Sansome, Emma Swift, and fellow Aussie Anne McCue, and, snaking through the mix, a pedal steel guitar courtesy of Russ Pohl, there’s a whiff of Son Volt. It’s nothing overt; this isn’t Robyn Goes Twang! — but it is there, Hitchcock taking in his surroundings and putting it back out again.

A few days later, Gillian Welch would again show up and add her two cents. And there may be other guests to come.

“Everyone plays beautifully,” Hitchcock offers, “They’re all professionals and they’re quick. Half of it wasn’t even rehearsed.”

Welcome to Music City, Robyn.

“The record is seen through the prism of Nashville, largely about people who have gone,” he says later. “I’ve always been pretty backward looking. I was never a sort for rubbing my hands together and going, ‘Boy, howdy, I can’t wait for the future.’ The future is a very ominous place that never quite arrives, but the closer you get to it the more terrifying it looks. But you have no choice but to go into it. I think a lot of people are just reversing into the future. There’s more than they can stand.

It’s bad enough getting old without your phone getting old as well, you know, or your belief system getting old. We on the left, you know, we mourn the ’60s and ’70s, and the other side mourns the ’50s and the ’30s. It’s the same in Britain, too.”

Hitchcock was born into a quintessential English upper middle class household, with a sister and two loving parents. His father was the novelist Raymond Hitchcock, who had success with Percy, about a man who receives a penis transplant and embarks on a quest to find the donor. It was made into a movie in 1970 with The Kinks providing the soundtrack. “It was slightly risqué in its time, “Hitchcock says, “My mother and grandmother were a bit shocked when it came out, I suppose. But some people gave Raymond an absolute shovelful of money for making a movie out of his book, in exchange for which he gave away all the rights, and as it turns out there’s only one sentence from his whole book that made it into the movie.” His father was a bit of a Renaissance man. He wrote and painted and drew cartoons, he did everything except music, “and maybe I went into music so I wasn’t in competition with him.” he surmises.

Even if his parents didn’t play music, they liked having it around. “My father used to buy

skiffle and rockabilly records for us,” he says, “so we had Lonnie Donegan and Bill Haley.

About the third thing I can remember in life is spinning around in a circle singing ‘One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock rock!’ so I knew that stuff from the time that I was 3, and some folk songs he used to buy, and then later on The Beatles came.

“One day my father turned up with a transistor radio,” Hitchcock continues. “He liked gadgets. But they were quite big in those days, about five times the size of a laptop. He was very proud of it. I came in from school one day, he pointed at the table and said, ‘Look! My wireless! It doesn’t plug in!’ There was an hour a week of the Top 20 on British national radio.

This was 1963 and The Beatles had just hit, and he said, ‘Why don’t you listen to this?’ which was nice because I don’t think he was listening to it, but he thought we might like it. So we listened to The Beatles and The Shadows and Roy Orbison, and things like that. And the next week, my sister and I just pushed the radio around outside in the garden in a pram, like a stroller posh Brits put their kids in. We had a toy one and like some postapocalyptic couple, we shuffled through the hedges pushing this pram and listening to ‘From Me to You.’ ” Soon enough came an English rite of passage for upper crust boys or those near enough to it, in which young and tender fellows are

wrestled away from home and Mum and Dad, and are sent off to boarding school, where homesickness is expected to be dealt with by keeping a stiff English upper lip and getting on with things. “That’s what they do in Britain, the upper classes,” Hitchcock says now, “First, they cripple you emotionally, and then, they send you out to run the country. It’s a neat one-two.”

As it was, from a pop music perspective, there might have never been a better time to be an English lad off at boarding school, even if you just listened and didn’t play. “I loved all that music, but I didn’t see myself as doing it,” he says, “And then I heard Bob Dylan do ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ while I was feeling cut off in this male, monastic community, in a strange town. There I was, my parents having paid all this money for me to be expensively educated, and all I can remember from my school days is the sequence of Bob Dylan albums, Beatles albums, the Stones, Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead, The Incredible String Band, the Doors — that’s all I remember!

“One day, some hipster turned up asking if I’d heard of The Velvet Underground. He said, ‘Oh, it’s something else. It’s quite naughty.’ I remember listening to ‘Heroin,’ and just — oh my god. I was 15, I think. So those four years from ’66 to ’70, I just marinated myself in music as pop turned into rock; about →

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halfway through all that, I knew I wanted to do this.”

Knowing what he wanted to do and doing it were two different things. “I didn’t know what the job was called because there wasn’t a description for what a trainee Bob Dylan was,” he says and laughs. “There wasn’t really a guidebook for being a spokesman for Western youth. On a personal level, you’d say you were going to be a troubadour or psychedelic folkie.”

He was a total child of his era, and his music

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reflected that from day one. “It was a straight line,” he says. “You can look at my record collection and me and totally extrapolate where I am today. I’m completely predictable. It’s just a fast track from there to now.”

As a teen (with Brian Eno as a classmate) nestled in that green and pleasant land, America might as well have been another planet. “I remember first reading about Nashville,” he says, “and I was wondering, ‘Where’s Nashville?’ Oh, it’s mentioned in

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Blonde on Blonde. And then 50 years later, Pete Finney’s taking me around the Nashville Cats exhibition and explaining exactly who Kenny Buttrey was and how I could still see Charlie McCoy, and how he might even turn up at The 5 Spot!”

Upon his graduation from boarding school, he spent the ensuing years painting pictures in art school, playing in cover bands and busking on street corners. He’d started writing songs when he was 16. “I only played covers in public for years because my own stuff wasn’t any good,” Hitchcock demurs. “It probably took me 10 years to write a decent song. I think I wrote my first songs that I still play now when I was 26. So I had a very long apprenticeship.”

History doesn’t necessarily agree with that assertion, as the Soft Boys broke out with incendiary psychedelic riff-rock in 1976, when Hitchcock was 23. With Hitchcock working out his kinetic dark humor, they went against the grain of the burgeoning safety pin, spiked hair, and skinny tie set. The Soft Boys’ two studio albums, A Can of Bees and Underwater Moonlight, are cherished classics these days, as is the wonderful, hard-to-find acoustic live LP, Live At The Portland Arms, which is worth hunting down not only for the screamingly funny spoken interlude of “That’s When Your Heartaches Begin,” but also for the a capella take of Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” and the Soft Boys’ own “Human Music,” one of Hitchcock’s best early tunes.

Breaking up in 1980 (but with several partial reunions in the coming decades), Hitchcock soldiered on with Robyn Hitchcock and The Egyptians and other collaborations already noted, along with purely solo stuff, for what so far has been a dizzying 35-ish total releases, and that’s not counting live albums and greatest hits collections. Casual listeners looking for an introduction to his work would do well to pick up Chronology (The Very Best of Robyn Hitchcock) from 2011, which, like most collections for artists of such repute, is nourishing for what it contains and infuriating for what it leaves out. Listeners hankering for a deeper dive into his catalog would do well to check out the indispensable I Often Dream of Trains, Fegmania!, Queen Elvis, Spooked, and any of about 15 others. Songs of note include the swinging “Give It To The Soft Boys,” “Veins of the Queen,” and the hilarious “Uncorrected Personality Traits.”

His own fave song? “ ‘N.Y. Doll,’ ‘Sometimes A Blonde,’ ‘I Don’t Remember Guildford’ — they’re all sad songs, which is my favorite kind” he says. “I like ‘Madonna of the Wasps,’ it has a good Scottish-type melody. ‘Insanely Jealous’ and ‘Kingdom of Love’ are my two faves from the Soft Boys era — young and intense. My new record is old and intense. ‘The Cheese Alarm’ is probably the most ‘Robyn Hitchcock’ of my songs; it’s fun, although not my favorite.”

The concert film Storefront Hitchcock, done

by Jonathan Demme, is also worth noting.

(Hitchcock has appeared in small roles in a number of Demme films.) If there is a thread unspooling through all this work, it’s been toward the madcap elements being tamped down a bit over time, and the introspection deepening and darkening like the wood on a good table.

There is an excellent documentary on Hitchcock called Sex, Food, Death…and Insects, an original production by the Sundance Channel (now SundanceTV) in which the interviewer probed Robyn’s dura mater for some revealing insights, such as this one: “Life is always a shock to me. I’m always taken by surprise. Most of my songs, if they’re about anything, are about the shock of existence. People say, ‘Wow, Hitchcock writes about food, sex, and death, with a side order of fish and insects,’ like I’m all about being insanely whimsical. Like, ‘Here comes Hitchcock, the old food, sex, and death man.

Never mind him!’ I don’t always know what I’m on about. If anything, I’m about ‘write the song first and ask questions later.’ Dark and funny definitely fit well together. Why not sing it?”

And this one: “At heart, I’m a frightened, angry person.

There’s a hot core, and then on top, I have this sort of whimsical, academic detachment, sprinkled with rock & roll mannerisms I’ve picked up over the years. But deep down, I’m screaming, and I think that’s why I’ve kept going.”

When asked to follow up on that, Hitchcock says, “When that documentary was being made, I had started a long-overdue course of therapy. And I was starting to discover myself, shine a flashlight around the damp cave of my interior. Many more sessions later I think I understand where that feeling came from.

Both my father and his father fought in World Wars. My grandpa Jack was in the Battle of the Somme, and although not physically wounded, was never the same after he returned. His son, my father, Raymond, joined the army at 17 and was wounded in the leg at 22, and he couldn’t bend his right knee ever again. Trauma is now believed to be passed through in DNA. Raymond inherited Jack’s feelings, added his own battlefield horror, and passed the parcel down to me. I have long woken my partners up with my yelling at night, I’m sorry to say. In my dreams I am fighting something off — threatening to kill it if it gets any closer. I still don’t know what it is, but at least I think I know where it’s from.”

A wanderer who “likes living somewhere I’m not from,” and Dylan fan that he is, it was inevitable that eventually he would come to Nashville to record. So in 2004, he found himself at Woodland Studios. “It was my first visit to East Nashville, my first exposure to what was becoming this nascent groover’s paradise,” Hitchcock recalls. He asked Gillian Welch and

Dave Rawlings to drop by and maybe lend a helping hand on a few tunes. It turns out that’s all he had was a few tunes, and they were drawn in to doing the whole album, as songs fell from the sky and they recorded them before they hit the ground. Dark and foreboding, that became Spooked, and in a nod to his muse, it includes a cover of Lucky Wilbury’s “Trying to Get to Heaven.” He also recorded a new version of “Television.”

Hitchcock had long been a semipermanent

resident of America, living for a while in Washington, D.C., with his girlfriend at the time. He also has a house in London and has long considered the Isle of Wight to be a sentimental getaway going back to his boyhood.

(He saw Hendrix’s and Morrison’s last gigs ever at the big festivals there, as well as Dylan’s return to form with The Band.) He still gets back there around once a year.

Now with Emma Swift, the two made a CO N T I N U E D O N PAG E 4 8

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Bermuda Triangle “Girlz II Women” C0ver shot for the 2017 Women in Music Issue (l-r) Jesse Lafser, Becca Mancari, Brittany Howard Photograph by Travis Commeau East Nashville, Aug. 9, 2017

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The Wild, Wild East

of dead bodies in Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky and Texas. Jesse James became the leader of the gang, and much to the exasperation of law enforcement, he evaded arrest for 15 years, becoming one of America’s most successful and legendary bank robbers.

In order to elude authorities, the James brothers and their wives stayed on the move and adopted assumed identities along the way. Here in Nashville, they lived in the Whites Creek and Edgefield communities where they attempted to lead relatively quiet lives and raise families.

According to Yeatman, the brothers chose Nashville because it was near family in southern Kentucky and large enough to allow them to live in relative anonymity.

On April 24, 1874, Jesse James married his first cousin Zerelda Zee Mimms in Kearney, Mo. While in Nashville, Jesse and Zee went by the assumed names Thomas and Josie Howard. According to Yeatman, their first son, Jesse Edwards James Jr. was born on Aug. 31, 1875, at 606 Boscobel St. in Edgefield; his assumed name was Tim. After a move to Baltimore in 1875-1876, they returned to Nashville in 1877 where their daughter Mary Susan James was born on July 17, 1879, at the Felix Smith House on West Hamilton Road in Nashville’s Whites Creek community.

Their twin sons, Gould and Montgomery James, were born in Nashville in February 1878; however, both died in infancy at the W.H. Link Farm near Hurricane Mills in Humphreys County, Tenn., where Jesse lived as a gentleman farmer and raced thoroughbred horses on occasion. The twins were buried at the Link Farm.

On June 6, 1875, Jesses older brother Frank James married Anna Ralston in Omaha, Neb. Frank followed Jesse to Nashville, where he and Anna James went by the assumed names, Ben J. and Fannie Woodson.

Their son Robert is born in Edgefield on Feb. 6, 1878, probably in a rented house at 814 Fatherland St. The James brothers were listed on the 1880 census as brothers-in-law and farmers originally from Maryland. At that time, they lived at the Jeff Hyde Farm on Hyde’s Ferry Road north of Nashville. By 1881, they were renting separate homes on Fatherland Street in Edgefield. →

TALES OF THE JAMES GANG IN EDGEFIELD

F

By Robbie D. Jones

or better or worse, East Nashville has a reputation of being home to gangs, outlaws, murderers and thieves. To be honest, it’s a well-earned reputation that we wear as a badge of honor.

We slap tongue-in-cheek slogans on bumper stickers, T-shirts and restaurant menus.

That’s OK. Its who we are.

Few Nashvillians realize, however, that one of Americas most notorious outlaws and gang leaders Jesse James once called our hood home. After the Civil War, he and his brother Frank lived in Middle Tennessee on-and-off from 1875 to 1881, including several years in East Nashville’s Edgefield neighborhood. His son Jesse James Jr. was born in Edgefield, as was his nephew. His daughter was born just north of town in Whites Creek. He also had twin sons who were born in Nashville and buried near Hurricane Mills after dying during infancy.

Besides occasional newspaper articles, the story of James life in Nashville remained largely a mystery, relegated to the realm of unsubstantiated legend and urban myth. That is until 2000, when historian Ted P. Yeatman published Frank and Jesse James: The Story Behind the Legend, an exhaustively researched 512-page classic that is the most complete record of the lives of the James Gang ever published. A Nashville native, Yeatman earned two degrees from Peabody a B.A. in 1976 and a M.A. in Library Science in 1977. He began researching the James Gang in Nashville in 1975 and published his life’s work a quarter of a century later.

“For many decades, these Tennessee years were largely ignored by authors who preferred to dwell on the blood-and-thunder aspects of the James brothers lives,” Yeatman wrote. “Usually they were depicted either as ‘American Robin Hoods’ or simply as ‘hoods,’ depending on the source.”

Following the Civil War, Jesse James and the James-Younger Gang of Missouri terrorized the country, robbing banks, trains and stagecoaches. The gang of a half-dozen former Confederate guerillas was led by two sets of brothers Jesse and Frank James, and Bob, Cole, Jim and John Younger.

Shootouts resulted in a string

Fletch Taylor, Frank James (seated), & Jesse James circa 1867, photographed in Nashville by C.C. Giers.

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While the infamous brothers attempted to stay under the radar during their Nashville years, in September of 1875, Jesse was implicated in the robbery of the Bank of Huntington in West Virginia. The following September, Jesse and Frank led a gang in the failed robbery of the First National Bank in Northfield, Minn.

This foiled robbery resulted in the capture and deaths of several members of the robbers and ultimately led to the breakup of the James Gang.

According to Yeatman, a Nashville bartender recollected that Jesse and Frank were very quiet men who minded their own business, but gambled a great deal. They were known to bet on quarter horses at the racetrack and were said to play poker right smart and play all sorts of games big and little.

On Oct. 4, 1879, Franks horse Jewell Maxey finished second in a race at the Tennessee State Fair, winning a $25 prize. Frank also entered prize-winning Poland China hogs at local fairs.

Apparently, Jesse wasn’t as lucky at gambling since local court records indicate he had several charges filed against him for unpaid debts.

Photographs of Jesse James are rare, but two of them were taken in Nashville. The first (shown on previous page) was made by notable photographer C.C. Giers in 1867 when he was about 20 years old. The other was made in 1882 by Otto Giers right before James returned home to Missouri where he was murdered by Robert Ford on April 3, 1882. Ford was a

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member of the gang living in the James home who betrayed him in hopes of collecting the award money on his head. James was only 34 years old.

Jesse James Jr. became a well-known lawyer in Kansas City and Los Angeles. In 1899, he published a book about his father called Jesse James My Father: The First and Only True Story of His Adventures Ever Written. In it, he recounts one of his earliest memories in East Nashville, when a family friend, Dick Liddill, fired a shotgun through the front door at someone who had thrown a rock at the door.

He fired a second round from the front porch, missing the purported assailant but rattling buckshot off a streetlamp. Jesse was about five years old at the time. According to Yeatman, the incident took place on Feb. 14, 1881, when they were living at 903 Woodland St. Yeatmanalso states that the last known home of Jesse in Nashville was located at 711 Fatherland St. in Edgefield. The two-story, red brick residence is one of several side hall-type homes in the neighborhood built in the midto-late 19th century. The home survived the fire of 1916 and the tornado of 1933, only to be abandoned in the 1970s and condemned in 1983. In 1984, a demolition permit was pulled, but the home was saved at the last minute from the wrecking ball by Bill E. Beard, who paid $16,000 for it.

Beard undertook a three-year renovation,

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which was recognized with a Preservation Award in 1989 by the Metro Historical Commission. The home survived the May 1998 tornado with only minor damage. Still owned by the Beard family, the well-preserved home is listed in the National Register of Historic Places as part of the Edgefield Historic District, the first residential historic district to be listed in Nashville in 1977. Of the 10 Nashville landmarks documented by Yeatman as having historic associations with the James Gang, only this one survives.

In 1881, Frank, aka B.J. Woodson, was arrested for the robbery of the Alabama paymaster in Muscle Shoals. He was tried in Huntsville, Ala., and acquitted by two juries at trial, due in large part to character witnesses from Nashville who helped convince jurors that he had settled down, focused on his family, and left his life of crime behind him.

“In the Nashville area, Mr. Woodson earned the reputation of an honest, hardworking citizen,” Yeatman wrote. He worked as a sharecropper while living in Whites Creek, “seldom failing to put in 10 hours in the field.”

In October of 1882, Frank James told a reporter in St. Louis, “Those four years [in Nashville] were four of the happiest I have spent since my boyhood.” When he was forced to flee Edgefield, “It was with despair that I drove away from our little home … and again became a wanderer.”

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Citizens, Kind 42

Bret & Meg MacFadyen being interviewed

by Black Diamond at Tomato Art Fest 2019

For Meg and Bret MacFadyen, business was always personal

By Dana Delworth Photography by Chuck Allen

theeastnashvillian.com 10th Anniversary Issue

I

t’s a sunny, late afternoon in Five Points, around dinnertime on the last day of May. A small but very colorful crowd gathers in the walkway along the shops at the Idea Hatchery, queuing quietly with signs, tomato festooned hats, and giggles. They’re waiting for Meg MacFadyen, whom they want to celebrate in her most natural habitat one more time. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and spread it properly, but they pulled it off. The crowd keeps increasing in number, and they are soon joined by Mayor David Briley, ready to issue a proclamation declaring Meg and her husband Bret MacFadyen as Very Important Persons. As people construct a greeting area, Meg is behind the counter at the Art and Invention Gallery wearing her usual overalls and a smile, helping yet another customer after business hours.

When Bret and Meg MacFadyen purchased the building and property at 1108 Woodland St. in May 2000, Five Points was hardly a bustling center of economic opportunity. There were a few veteran businesses scattered along the row of commercial buildings, but local patrons tried to park as close as possible and then hurried into the front door to do their business. It would be a few months before Shirley’s across the street would become The Slow Bar and the concept of Five Points as a “destination” would begin to blossom.

What Meg and Bret envisioned as a workshop and warehouse for fabricating movie and video sets soon became an art gallery and neighborhood nexus where your freak flag was not only welcome, but encouraged. Four years later, Meg got an idea for a summertime Tomato Art Show that quickly turned into an annual festival. Just as tomato plants have to be nurtured in

a special bed before transplanting, Bret applied the same principle to small businesses in 2011 and peeled off a piece of the Woodland property to create the Idea Hatchery.

It is almost half past six and the crowd is murmur-buzzing about the delay. Meg is finally dragged out of the Art and Invention Gallery into the sunlight as hundreds of people cheer for her. Although Bret is not present, the celebration and appreciation is for him too. There are tears and many, many hugs, along with Mardi Gras beads that the celebrants heap around Megs’ neck.

For those who have spent many days (and nights) walking around the Art and Invention Gallery in the years since its beginning, it was jarring to learn about the sale of both that property and the adjacent Idea Hatchery. The gallery was as familiar as a daily commute to many, a must-see every August to some, and for many others, the solution to a forgotten birthday/ anniversary scramble. When the announcement of the sale and the MacFadyens’ retirement was made public on April 30, a retail-enhanced wake began as Meg and Bret slowly disassembled, sold, and then gave away pieces of the shop and gallery.

Despite this swift dissipation, the memories made for the neighborhood by Meg and Bret MacFadyen will persist long after the gallery’s closing. Here is an only partial list: When New Orleans native and East Side

neighborhood fixture Melissa Duke Mooney passed away suddenly in 2009 she was honored with a Big Easy-style second line parade. The day before, Meg closed her gallery to the public and provided Melissa’s Daisy Girl Scout troop with umbrellas to decorate for the parade while she lovingly fired up the glue guns, filled paint jars, and hugged mommies while the girls prepared their memorials.

While we’re at it, glue guns. Have you ever had one in your home? Unless you are extremely rugged they can function as actual murder weapons. The Gallery had up to a half dozen going at a time on days when the MacFadyens opened up their work areas to children and adults alike to make Valentines, ornaments, or anything you can dream up that will leave an surging glitter vortex in a room. Did they do it for profit?

Are you kidding?

Every time you took a peek behind the doors in the garage before it was converted to find that Bret was building some manifestation of a child’s imagination, to order. Neither he nor Meg ever told you about it, or the sometimes famous clients who had contracted them; they were just putting the space to its best use at the time.

The numerous occasions when disasters struck and the MacFadyens opened their space after hours for the storage of relief supplies.

The time you or your friend called Meg up (because everybody knows her) and asked her to throw a party, or perform a wedding, or to ask her to utilize her homeopathic skills to help you figure out what THAT rash was, or to just send good thoughts. Or any of those times that you were drawn to the gallery in times of loss and left felling lighter.

After an almost endless parade of friends (no one is just a customer at the Art and Invention Gallery) placing strands of beads on the petite Meg, her tiny head is peaking out over the top of a beaded rainbow.

Longtime neighbor Kimberly Clo leads the crowd in an appreciation. More hugs are distributed and the crowd dances along to “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge and a soundtrack that says, “We are HERE for this!”

neighborhood. Because the Idea Hatchery operated like a family businesses, such affronts to the property felt personal, and Bret responded with around-the-clock work, welding and sculpting rebar and bells on the gates that created both an art project and a clear statement that surrender to the forces of crime and chaos were not an option in his neighborhood.

Tanya Coe, recording artist and proprietress of Goodbuy Girls, explains the mutual leap of faith between the Idea Hatchery owners and tenants was a mutual trust exercise writ large.

“I was 23 when I started Goodbuy Girls with my best friend,” Coe says. “Our first location was

by Sweet 16th Bakery and was nothing short of a hole in the wall, but we made the best of it, doing pop ups around town. Just as we were thinking about throwing in the towel, Bil Breyer of Alegria Nashville, who was our neighbor at the time, told us about a new retail space being built in Five Points. I don’t know why they [Bret and Meg] took a chance on us, but they did and we’ve ended up being one of two shops here since the beginning.

“The platform that Bret and Meg created for us was not just about cheap rent, it was a support system. I remember having a conversation with Bret early on ... I was scared because I was going through a serious breakup, traumatic family stuff, had just signed a lease on my very first apartment, had to buy a new computer and a new car, and we had this new higher rent on the store. It seemed like everything was hitting at the same time, and I was overwhelmed. ... He said ‘Tanya, you’re a smart girl, you have an accounting degree and you’re creative and resourceful, get what you need to do the things that you need/want to do and the money will come.’ That pep talk meant the world to me and little did I know that it was the first of many encouraging talks with Bret.”

That devotion to friendship, trust, and mutual support among neighbors is just one many giant footprints the MacFadyens leave behind.

Along with a thriving and continuing business incubator, a world class summer festival, and a stronger community, the countless acts of personal kindness or bits of good advice dispensed freely will continue to resonate.

Bret and Meg were both art majors who met while building sets for the 1991 movie, Ernest Scared Stupid. They continued to build in every step of their marriage, building not just for them but for their community. With the opening of the Idea Hatchery in 2011, they took that devotion to building into a new arena. As landlords AND neighbors, the MacFadyens provided small retail units with shared resources and affordable rent to aspiring business owners. The opening played well, with much excitement and several tenants out of the gate, but the row was vandalized and burgled within weeks in the still-transitional

The sun is setting, and the revelers are making their ways into the rest of the weekend, with a few stragglers staying behind to pick up the party remains and give a hand to Meg with moving items out of the gallery. For every one of these neighbors and friends, no official proclamation was needed; in their hearts and minds, the title of Very Important Person was conferred upon Meg and Bret MacFadyen long before the sun set on the last day of the Art and Invention Gallery.

VOL 9, ISSUE 6

J U LY | AU G 2 0 1 9

JULY | AUGUST VOL.VIII ISSUE 6

ity Commun Karma

&

still Aaron Lee Tasjan rd Five years in, desire in his own backya finds his heart’s

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Los Colognes Working Together (l-r) Wojek Krupka, Gordan Persha, Aaron “Mort�

Mortenson, Jay Rutherford, & Micah Hulscher Photograph by Eric England Nashville, Aug. 28, 2013

photography for exclusive photos, links to our latest stories, and more, be sure to follow us on instagram @eastnashvillian

Alicia Witt Photograph by Travis Commeau Michael Weintrob Photography Studios East Nashville, Aug. 29, 2018

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Earl Takes Stuffy Shmitt For A Ride Photograph by Travis Commeau Somewhere else, August, 2019

Jay Joyce Photograph by Eric England St. Charles, Sept. 3, 2014

Aaron Lee Tasjan “Raise Hell” Photograph by Stacie Huckeba East Nashville, March 3, 2016 10th Anniversary Issue theeastnashvillian.com

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Where Goes The Neighborhood?

C O N T I N U E D F R O M PAG E 2 7

considering moving here.

The answer to poorly done development, then, is not to prevent all development. It’s to talk, with your metro councilman, with developers. It means going to neighborhood meetings. It means making some time for your home, as well as yourself and your loved ones who live in that home. Like anything you want to keep in peak performance, it means occasional maintenance.

“Currently interacting with residents isn’t something that is broadly mandated in the rules,” Thomas says. “Interacting with neighbors is a decision we’ve made to try to build in a way that’s consistent with the wishes of the communities we build in. That often requires trying to balance opposing viewpoints on what Nashville should become. Residents want less-expensive homes, but sellers want ever more for their land.

Residents want smaller one-story houses, but homebuyers want larger ones and higher land prices often preclude that option. Residents want economic diversity, but are often opposed to density that could help provide it. Buyers want less-expensive homes but still want great areas, driving demand for density. Communities often don’t share the same sentiments, or even agree among the residents. Communities often don’t agree with what Nashville’s planners think Nashville will, could, or should look like. Communities often don’t agree with the preferences of relocating homebuyers who are coming from denser areas. It’s not easy to satisfy all people.

“Development isn’t always just a place to be; it’s an opportunity to define how to be... As the city is continuously refreshed, there’s tremendous opportunity to define how we want to be.

Good development can help.”

“The most important thing is for neighborhoods to be engaged in real time, both in policy changes and in the effect those changes have on the ground,” he says. “It takes constant communication and attention to the people, where they live and work.”

Purcell argues that economic forces actually

will work to save neighborhoods in the long run.

Subpar work, whether in an infrastructure or aesthetic sense, actually hinders developers and development, he argues, and should keep those seeking to ignore the “spirit” of zoning in order to maximize their return on investment out.

“Protecting the fabric of a →

B

ill Purcell is a lawyer at Jones Hawkins & Farmer, and also a noted hot chicken aficionado. For those new to the area, the East Nashville resident was also mayor of Nashville from 1999-2007, before current mayor Karl Dean took over. He doesn’t live in the ivory tower some might expect of a former mayor and lecturer at the Harvard University Institute of Politics. He makes his home on a modest lot in Lockeland Springs.

While in office, Purcell developed the Office of Affordable Housing, created some 26,000 new units, and also focused on increasing the density downtown while preserving housing stock in the city’s historic neighborhoods. With the city’s real-estate temperature currently as sweat-inducing as Purcell’s favorite Prince’s order—hot—this now seems prescient. Purcell says it’s just called thinking ahead—far ahead, in most cases. And he doesn’t just mean developers, or Metro government.

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neighborhood is at the core of maximizing return on investment for the long term,” he says. “Our most successful neighborhoods have been careful about this for a generation now, and the results are obvious in the increased valuations in East Nashville, Sylvan Park, Second Avenue, Richland, or HillsboroWest End, just for example.

“Metro Planning and MDHA [Metropolitan Development and Housing Agency] have experience in protecting what

has made this city so special,” he continues.

“They know what to do and have done it successfully in the past. Most important now is not forgetting what we know, some of it learned the hard way, [and thereby creating] a place we are not now and never want to be.

We are the ‘it’ city we are today not because of what we might build next, but because we protected and then enhanced what made Nashville so special through two centuries and now beyond.”

I asked Purcell if stricter zoning and overlays, historic and otherwise, could be a double-edged sword, in that what might “protect” one from a developer now might hinder one’s options with their own property in the future.

“There is nothing double-edged about protecting a neighborhood and the people who have invested their money and their lives in the place,” he says. “There are other cities that have no zoning and little building regulation.

The people who have chosen Nashville will not forget why they came or why they stayed in a place that protects their homes and values their community.

“They know they made the right choice. Just ask them.”

Where goes the neighborhood? Exactly wherever you decide to lead it, East Nashville.

Robyn Hitchcock C O N T I N U E D F R O M PAG E 3 5

tentative long visit to East Nashville in late 2014, and made the big move in August 2015.

Since moving on up to the East Side, it’s been good for both of them.

“What’s struck me about Nashville is, firstly, how many musicians are here,” Hitchcock says.

“It says welcome to Music City at the airport, and they’re not kidding. It’s exactly that. This is where you find them. You go into The 5 Spot and see the people that you’re playing with the next day. I really like that community. I like the layout of East Nashville, too. I don’t drive so I like walking between here and Shelby Park, and I like the fact that 5 Points is a groover’s strip — you know, like, it’s like your version of Camden Lot or Queen Street in Toronto — and ours here isn’t a strip, it’s just where they all converge. So you’ve got The 5 Spot, The Groove, the 3 Crow, Bongo Java, but it’s all essentially walking distance. I can’t buy a pair of socks or anything, but there are the vintage stores, there’s Fanny’s, they buy instruments because they look good as well as the way they sound, a very visual music store. There’s the wine merchant, you can just walk down the road and within 15, 20 minutes, it’s all there. London is so scattered. There are masses of everything in London, but it’s all over the place, and it’s very expensive. I had a great pub I used to go to, but it was about 10 miles from my house so you’d spend about 60 quid in taxis getting there and back. So for me, I like the walking distance in East Nashville. There are also loads of venues in town.”

Back in the studio, taking a break while Brendan works up a rough mix, Hitchcock muses on his longevity. “I don’t go away,” he says cheerfully. “I do what I do, and so far, nothing has deflected me.” At this point, chances are nothing ever will.

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'Tis the season to be jolly

JOIN US DECEMBER 1ST - 24TH We’re not letting a pandemic stand in the way of our fun this holiday season so we're taking our 104th annual Caroling for Kids fundraiser ONLINE. There are 3 ways YOU can join the fun:

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Caroling for Kids benefits the programs and services of Fannie Battle Day Home. For more info visit fanniebattle.org/caroling 10th Anniversary Issue theeastnashvillian.com

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E A S T OF N O R M A L Attention Spam

BY TO M M Y WO M AC K

T

he best thing about Attention Deficit Disorder is that it never bothers you for too long at any one time.

I’ve aced every ADD test I’ve ever taken, most of them in magazines like my wife’s Redbooks and other sundry such. Friends and strangers who are medicated within an inch of their consciousness often regard me as a long lost brother. They see from a mile away that I am obviously One Of Them. They assume I must have been on Ritalin since childhood. Not so, actually. I can’t be medicated for it, never have been, because to introduce an ADD med into my regimen would cause a catfight with my anti-depressants, and we can’t have that. In order for my self-talk not to be “I want to die!” I have learned to accept “Things are OK. Ooh look, cows!”

Mood steroids artificially prop up my world view while I juggle multiple projects and have spirited conversations with people that I lose the thread of two or three paragraphs in, my eyes glazing over while I try to remember what the hell we’re talking about, and for that matter, what the hell your name is.

It probably hasn’t helped that I stayed stoned every day I could get my hands on some weed from 1986 to 2003. Then again, I was tagged as a flake long before I ever toked, and still my flake flag flies high to this day. (Say that five times fast!) So I don’t know of the long-term effects of channeling Willie Nelson. All I know is my life is a slideshow of images and topics. One minute I’m thinking and talking about one thing, the next minute I’m thinking and talking about something else entirely.

To understand Lincoln’s cabinet you have to understand this: Imagine five singer/songwriters who have paid their dues in Nashville, and each of them has an established reputation and a devoted following. One of them is a phenomenal guitarist, one a harmonica virtuoso, one a solid bass player, another a terrific keyboard player, and the last one is that most evil and pernicious vermin — a drummer who sings and writes songs. Each of these performers has record label interest and killer hit songs to his credit.

Then this rube comes to town. He’s a hick with ill-fitting clothes and, on top of that, he’s ugly. The five local stars pay him no mind, and initially no one else does either. Now guess who winds up getting the record deal — the new guy, the guy without a fan base, the guy who hasn’t paid his dues, the clueless hick from out of town. It’s outrageous!

The local top guns go from turning up their noses at the rube to actively hating him. They vow never to gig with him. But they have no idea how the rube is capable of thinking how they might think, and they don’t know how wise he can be, or how capable he is at turning a blind eye to slights against him. The rube needs a band to cut a record with, a band who’ll go on the road with him, and he needs the best musicians in town. So he picks the five top guns. He knows they hate him, and yet he knows he needs the best and they are that. The top guns are appalled, but seeing how it might benefit their own careers down the line, they hold their noses and take the gig.

Even as they’re all in the studio, the top guns snub the rube, leaving him out of their little clique, making faces behind his back. He knows all of this and takes no umbrage. It is only as the record progresses that the top guns begin to, however gradually, realize they’re making a great record. The songs are so great that, though they initially dismissed them as simplistic fluff, now they hear the brilliance therein. Then they go on the road and learn over time that the rube’s gawky act is genuine, heartfelt and talented. They see how he connects to people, and how he is able to articulate how the people feel, far better than their own abilities to do such.

The top guns learn to love the rube, and years later, when he is assassinated by a crazed fan at a Bonnie Raitt show, they appreciate the true weight of his presence and know they have been honored to stand in the shadow of a giant.

When I picture the guitarist, I see Secretary of State William Seward. The keyboardist I see as the corpulent Salmon P. Chase; and only the hotheaded War Secretary Edwin Stanton could have been the drummer who sings.

This is my first column. I hope you enjoyed it. I didn’t get to talk about cinnamon rolls as much as I wanted to, but maybe next time.

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For your reading pleasure, here’s the first of many essays from our dear friend & raconteur, Tommy Womack.

Vol. 3, Issue 3 Jan | Feb 2013

JANUARY | FEBRUARY VOL. III ISSUE 3

Januar y | Februar y 2013

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(l-r) Brandy Smiley, Tracy Hamilton (RIP), Kim Collins, & Lisa McCauley Dandelion Salon December, 2012 Photograph by Tim Duggan Hair by Kama Liberman Makeup by Kimberly Murrey

marketplace Misty Waters Petak M.S., CFP ÂŽ, CLUÂŽ Financial Advisor (615) 479-6415 mistypetak.nm.com

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