Black History

If Beale Street could talk, it would tell Memphis to ‘copyright me’

NNPA NEWSWIRE — I will never forget the colorful characters of Beale Street: Men wearing coordinated suits, shoes and hats, with processed hair; curvaceous women walking with advertising gaits and long eye lashes; impromptu street concerts by bands and musicians; “barkers” pleading for customers to enter their stores and shops; shoe shine boys with their mobile shine parlors and the bustling crowds.

Published

7 years ago

January 31, 2019

Oakland Post

By Dr. L. LaSimba M. Gray Jr., Special to The New Tri-State Defender

When I first heard of the movie “If Beale Street Could Talk” I got excited about the possibility of seeing the legendary Beale Street of Memphis on the big screen. To my utter disappointment this movie has nothing to do with the 1.8-mile long street in Memphis.

My disappointment is rooted in my personal “Beale Street Experience.”

I was introduced to Beale Street by my father, the late Rev. Leo M. Gray Sr. Periodically, he would take my two brothers and myself to the New Daisy Theatre on Beale. I remember asking him why we were not going to the Princess on Main Street.
“At the New Daisy we don’t have to sit in the balcony, we can sit on the main floor,” he said.

Mr. Robert Morris managed the New Daisy Theatre and was my school principal. En route to the New Daisy, we were enthralled by the carnival atmosphere, the aroma of soul food and the eccentric characters of Beale Street. The music pouring out of the juke joints and cafes was captivating. The bass guitar and drums moved us to walk with a bounce. We had swag before we knew what swag was.

In 1956, an African-American entrepreneur called “Mr. Buck” would hire boys from our neighborhood to work the Cotton Carnival Parade on Main St. We sold popcorn and cotton candy from Main and Poplar to Main and Beale. Mr. Buck would meet us half way to collect the money and replenish our trays. When we reached Beale Street, we turned east and walked down to Fourth Street, where he would pick us up.

The Beale Street Experience began the minute we turned on Beale. On Main St., we could not walk on the sidewalk or look our customers in the face as we sold them our goods.

Mr. Buck was very stern as he taught the acceptable behavior for Main Street. We were to avoid prolonged encounters with white females and we were drilled on saying “yes sir” and “no ma’am.”

“Y’all do remember Emmett Till, don’t you?” he would ask.

Free on Beale Street, we joked and played with each other. We looked into people’s faces, walked on the sidewalks and popped our fingers to the hard-hitting rhythm and blues songs. We took advantage of the hot-dog specials and had plenty of the sizzling hamburgers, chitterlings and bar-b-que.

The Cotton Makers Jubilee Parade rolled down Beale Street. We saw African-Americans on floats and in fine decorated cars. On Main Street, African Americans pulled floats or swept up behind the horses.

On Beale Street, the Cotton Makers Jubilee Parade was an all African-American thing. The marching bands of local high schools competed. Their sonic sounds and high-stepping majorettes kept the parade-goers spellbound. The legendary Nat D. Williams, the first radio personality at WDIA Radio, amplified the excitement with commentary.

I will never forget the colorful characters of Beale Street: Men wearing coordinated suits, shoes and hats, with processed hair; curvaceous women walking with advertising gaits and long eye lashes; impromptu street concerts by bands and musicians; “barkers” pleading for customers to enter their stores and shops; shoe shine boys with their mobile shine parlors and the bustling crowds.

Along the eastward journey, professional blacks punctuated the landscape. There were lawyers, doctors, and dentists, printing shops, photographers, banks, insurance companies and benevolent organizations.

A massive and magnificent church, First Baptist Beale, greeted us at Fourth St. Neighboring to the east was Church Park and Church Auditorium. We could go into the park, which was revolutionary to me. I lived across the street from the Winchester Park and could not enter.

When our ride showed up, we scampered on to the truck and claimed our seats. Mr. Buck would collect from each worker and pay off. My first experience on Beale Street far exceeded my compensation; Beale Street had given me a sense of “somebodiness.”
As we drove off, a sense of longing for more filled my spirit from that day to now. I love Beale Street.

Through the annals of history, we realize that Beale Street does talk. It was a mecca for African Americans all over the South.

“Beale Street is a composite of colorful incidents,” the legendary Lt. George W. Lee once said.

Lee collaborated with W. C. Handy and Robert Church to make Beale Street the epic experience of African Americans. Hearing the moans and groans of African Americans vented in song and dance, Handy put pen to scale, the blues was born, and he became known as its father.

Church, the first millionaire of African descent in the South, was at home on Beale Street. He controlled political patronage for the “Negro: in the Mid-South from reconstruction through World War I. He was the go-to-person to mobilize the “negro vote” and to get a true reading of the temperament of the “negro.”

Church built a park and auditorium for his people when city fathers continued to make empty promises. In 1899, without a dime of tax money, he built a recreational oasis – second to none – in the midst of the desert of segregation. In “The Bright Side of Memphis,” G.P. Hamilton wrote this about Church Park: “lighted up at night, it looked like a fairy land or garden for the gods.”

Developed for African-Americans, Church Park was opened to all. President Theodore Roosevelt spoke there while Memphis was totally segregated.

Advocacy journalism was born on Beale Street when W.E.B. Dubois partnered with Henry Pace to organize and publish the Crisis Magazine that became the official journal of the NAACP. Ida B. Wells published the Memphis Free Press on Beale Street as she sought to expose the lynching of African Americans and to end the bastard acts of violence.

Run out of Memphis by daily threats on her life, Wells reemerged as a national leader and charter member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.
And in 1892, Dr. M.V. Lynk published the Medical and Surgical Observer, the first medical journal for “Negro” physicians, on Beale Street.

Beale Street was an incubator for business development by and for African Americans – Universal Life Insurance Company, Hooks Brothers Photography, Robert Henry Promotions, the Solvent Savings Bank of Memphis and more.

On Beale Street, African Americans found a soul force to endure the pathos of a toxic society and the residue of slavery. That “soul force” is “somebodiness” and a positive self-regard.

In the aftermath of the assassination of Dr. Martin L. King Jr. in Memphis in 1968, Beale Street was dealt a morbid wound by the concepts of urban renewal in the 1970s. Buildings were gutted and abandoned. Bustling crowds were diminished to a scarce few.
The music stopped on Beale and relocated. The legendary Gate Mouth Moore visited his old stomping grounds in the early 70’s and wrote a song: “Beale Street is gone and Beale Street ain’t Beale Street no more.”

The kitchens were closed, lights were turned off and Memphis – erroneously – announced the death of Beale Street. The premature obituary notwithstanding, tourists kept coming and inquiring.

“What happened to Beale Street?”

Abe Schwab resolved to keep his dry goods store open and serve his loyal customers base. He was asked why.

“You have to understand, Beale Street is more than a destination,” he said. “Beale Street is an attitude.”

The attitude of defiance and determination sustained Beale Street through its most challenging time. In many instances, some of the city’s leaders acted like modern day Pontius Pilates. Like the biblical figure, they seemed to be trying to wash themselves of a martyr’s blood, in this case using urban removal.

However, the essence of Beale Street was not in the buildings. It was in the souls of all who drank from the refreshing waters of affirmation and transformation. That fountain was only on Beale Street for African Americans of the Greater Mid-South.

Beale Street still is talking. Today it stands with opened arms, beckoning the world to come, see and taste “Soul.”

Beale Street is too important to the history of African Americans to be trivialized in a movie title.

The false expectations created by the movie title, “If Beale Street Could Talk,” lead me to seriously propose to City Fathers and all stakeholders that the brand “Beale Street” be copyrighted – immediately.

Oakland Post

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Ann Lowe: The Quiet Genius of American Couture

Lowe was born in Clayton, Alabama, into a family of gifted seamstresses. Her mother and grandmother were well-known dressmakers who created exquisite gowns for women in the area. By the time Lowe was a young girl, she was already showing extraordinary talent — cutting, sewing, and decorating fabric with a skill that far exceeded her age. When her mother died unexpectedly, Lowe – only 16 years old then – took over her mother’s sewing business, completing all the orders herself.

Published

2 days ago

December 14, 2025

Oakland Post

Photo courtesy of National Archives.

By Tamara Shiloh

Ann Cole Lowe, born Dec.14, 1898, was a pioneering American fashion designer whose extraordinary talent shaped some of the most widely recognized and celebrated gowns in U.S. history.

Although she designed dresses for society’s wealthiest families and created masterpieces worn at historic events, Lowe spent much of her life in the shadows — uncredited, underpaid, yet unmatched in skill. Today, she is celebrated as one of the first nationally recognized African American fashion designers and a true visionary in American couture.

In 1917, Lowe moved to New York City to study at the S.T. Taylor Design School. Although she was segregated from White students and forced to work separately, she, of course, excelled, graduating earlier than expected. Her instructors quickly recognized that her abilities were far above the typical student, especially her skill in hand-sewing, applique, and intricate floral embellishment – techniques that would become her signature.

Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, she designed gowns for high-society women in Florida and New York, operating boutiques and working for prestigious department stores. Her reputation for craftsmanship, originality, and elegance grew increasingly. She was known for creating gowns that moved beautifully, featured delicate hand-made flowers, and looked sculpted rather than sewn. Many wealthy clients specifically requested “an Ann Lowe gown” for weddings, balls, and galas.

Her most famous creation came in 1953: the wedding gown worn by Jacqueline Bouvier when she married Massachusetts Sen. John F. Kennedy. The dress – crafted from ivory silk taffeta with dozens of tiny, pleated rosettes – became one of the most photographed bridal gowns in American history. Despite this achievement, Lowe received no public credit at the time. When a flood destroyed her completed gowns 10 days before the wedding, she and her seamstresses worked day and night to remake everything – at her own expense. Her dedication and perfectionism never wavered.

She eventually opened “Ann Lowe Originals,” her own salon on New York’s Madison Avenue. She served clients such as the Rockefellers, DuPonts, Vanderbilts, and actresses like Olivia de Havilland. Yet even with her wealthy clientele, she struggled financially, often undercharging because she wanted every dress to be perfect, even if it meant losing money.

Lowe’s contributions were finally recognized later in life. Today, her exquisite gowns are preserved in museums, including the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

In the last five years of her life, Lowe lived with her daughter Ruth in Queens, N.Y. She died at her daughter’s home on Feb. 25, 1981, at the age of 82, after an extended illness.

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2025 in Review: Seven Questions for Black Women’s Think Tank Founder Kellie Todd Griffin

As the president and CEO of the California Black Women’s Collective Empowerment Institute, Griffin is on a mission to shift the narrative and outcomes for Black women and girls. She founded the nation’s first Black Women’s Think Tank, securing $5 million in state funding to fuel policy change.

Published

2 days ago

December 14, 2025

Oakland Post

Kellie Todd Griffin. CBM file photo.

By Edward Henderson
California Black Media

With more than 25 years of experience spanning public affairs, community engagement, strategy, marketing, and communications, Kellie Todd Griffin is recognized across California as a leader who mobilizes people and policy around issues that matter.

Griffin spoke with California Black Media (CBM) about her successes and setbacks in 2025 and her hopes for 2026.

Looking back at 2025, what stands out to you as your most important achievement and why? 

Our greatest achievement in this year is we got an opportunity to honor the work of 35 Black women throughout California who are trailblazing the way for the next generation of leaders.

How did your leadership, efforts and investments as president and CEO California Black Women’s Collective Empowerment Institute contribute to improving the lives of Black Californians? 

We’re training the next leaders. We have been able to train 35 women over a two-year period, and we’re about to start a new cohort of another 30 women. We also have trained over 500 middle and high school girls in leadership, advocacy, and financial literacy.

What frustrated you the most over the last year?

Getting the question, “why.” Why advocate for Black women? Why invest in Black people, Black communities? It’s always constantly having to explain that, although we are aware that there are other populations that are in great need, the quality-of-life indices for Black Californians continue to decrease. Our life expectancies are decreasing. Our unhoused population is increasing. Our health outcomes remain the worst.

We’re not asking anyone to choose one group to prioritize. We are saying, though, in addition to your investments into our immigrant brothers and sisters – or our religious brothers and sisters – we are also asking you to uplift the needs of Black Californians. That way, all of us can move forward together.

What inspired you the most over the last year?

I’ve always been amazed by the joy of Black women in the midst of crisis.

That is really our secret sauce. We don’t let the current state of any issue take our joy from us. It may break us a little bit. We may get tired a little bit. But we find ways to express that – through the arts, through music, through poetry.

What is one lesson you learned in 2025 that will inform your decision-making next year?

Reset. It’s so important not to be sitting still. We have a new administration. We’re seeing data showing that Black women have the largest unemployment rate. We’ve lost so many jobs. We can have rest – we can be restful – but we have to continue the resistance.

In one word, what is the biggest challenge Black Californians faced in 2025?

Motivation.

I choose motivation because of the tiredness. What is going to motivate us to be involved in 2026?

What is the goal you want to achieve most in 2026?

I want to get Black Californians in spaces and places of power and influence – as well as opportunities to thrive economically, socially, and physically.

Oakland Post

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BRIDGE Housing President and CEO Ken Lombard Scores Top Honors for Affordable Housing Leadership

The Development Company of the Year honor represents a milestone for BRIDGE Housing, which received the Gold award—its top designation—in a category that included both affordable and market-rate developers. The recognition caps what has been one of the strongest growth periods in the organization’s 42-year history.

Published

2 days ago

December 14, 2025

Oakland Post

BRIDGE Housing President and CEO Ken Lombard. Courtesy of BRIDGE Housing.

By the Oakland Post Staff

San Francisco-based BRIDGE Housing and its president and CEO, Ken Lombard, have been named among the nation’s housing industry standouts, earning two of the top prizes at the 2025 Multi-Housing News Excellence Awards.

BRIDGE Housing was named Development Company of the Year, while Lombard received Executive of the Year, recognition that places the nonprofit affordable housing provider alongside leading national developers of both affordable and market-rate housing.

The awards were announced in New York for the accomplishments achieved during 2024.

Multi-Housing News is one of the industry’s most respected publications. Award winners are selected by a panel of housing professionals, including multifamily developers, architects, and owners.

“BRIDGE Housing is deeply honored to be recognized by Multi-Housing News and our industry peers,” Lombard said. “These awards are a testament to the high-impact, mission-driven work by BRIDGE’s exceptional team to deliver quality affordable housing and support services that empower residents to improve their lives.”

In 2024, BRIDGE significantly expanded its footprint across California, Oregon, and Washington. That momentum continued into 2025, with portfolio growth of 9%, including the addition of nine new communities and 1,187 new or acquired affordable housing units. The nonprofit also added three new projects to its development pipeline as it nears a portfolio of 16,000 units.

The growth reflects a broader strategy aimed at accelerating both acquisitions and ground-up development, supported by partnerships with major financial institutions and innovative capital markets strategies. BRIDGE has also emphasized high-quality design and deep community engagement as central elements of its approach.

BRIDGE became the first affordable housing developer to issue tax-exempt construction bonds for one of the largest affordable housing projects in Portland, Ore., leveraging its strong credit rating.

Earlier this year, the nonprofit launched the BRIDGE Housing Impact Fund, with a goal of investing $1 billion to preserve and create affordable housing. It also closed on $175 million in taxable general-obligation bonds after increasing the offering in response to strong investor demand.

The company’s performance also underscores the role of Lombard, who has led BRIDGE since 2021 and was honored individually for his leadership.

Under Lombard’s tenure, BRIDGE has built a new leadership team with experience drawn from both the nonprofit and private sectors, with a particular focus on what the organization describes as efforts to “break the status quo,” especially in affordable housing finance. Those initiatives have helped reduce capital and construction costs, strengthen relationships with institutional investors, and expand resident support services.

Today, BRIDGE Housing serves more than 33,000 residents across 139 communities on the West Coast.

“Ken has dedicated his career to innovative real estate solutions that improve the quality of life in underserved neighborhoods,” said Kenneth Novack, chair of BRIDGE Housing’s board of directors. “His visionary leadership and the work of our incredible team have positioned BRIDGE for long-term growth that will extend our impact throughout the West Coast.”

Founded in 1983, BRIDGE Housing has helped create more than 23,000 affordable homes with a total development cost of $6 billion.