photograph courtesy special collections, university of memphis libraries
Editor’s Note: The Downtown Memphis Commission purchased the 100 North Main Building this week for $12 million, without announcing definite plans for the vacant property. Vance shares the ups (and downs) of this Downtown landmark.
When city officials gathered in a vacant lot at Main and Adams on June 30, 1963, for the groundbreaking of our city’s tallest building, they probably never dreamed the gleaming tower that would open two years later might one day be reduced to a parking facility.
Constructed by local developer Harry Bloomfield and designed by Robert Hall and Associates in the ultra-modern International Style, the 38-story 100 North Main Building stood out from the more traditional designs of other Downtown buildings. What seems at first to be a plain, white concrete block actually features a rather elaborate facade formed of vertical “fins” of precast concrete, with the surface covered with a “white marble chip patina” and windows accented by strips of brushed aluminum.
In addition to a lower-level parking garage, the first two floors housed a restaurant and retail space, reached by a pair of escalators that greeted visitors as they stepped into the lobby. This was an open space with 16-foot ceilings, black-and-white Carrera marble floors, and anodized gold aluminum trim throughout. Ten high-speed elevators carried attorneys, accountants, and other professionals to companies that quickly filled Downtown’s newest and largest office tower.
What truly set 100 North Main apart, however, was what the developers added to the top floors. The 36th floor was a health club, complete with a 40-foot stainless-steel swimming pool with louvers open to the sky, cocktail lounge, and billiard room. Perched atop the roof itself was a rotating restaurant, a fad at the time and one of only three in Memphis. To ensure a steady motion, the dining room “floated” on 75 passenger-car tires that rolled along a steel track.
This restaurant, originally part of the “Top of the 100 Club,” later became Diane’s when the health club closed in 1971. The circular dining area, designed after Seattle’s Space Needle, spun so slowly (one revolution every 90 minutes) that the ever-changing view was the only proof diners were moving. Only the outer ring of the interior revolved — not the entire structure — so anyone who left a purse on the windowsill had to run back and fetch it.
The most bizarre feature of 100 North Main, however, was the Japanese Garden (above). In addition to stone lanterns, bamboo screens, and rock arrangements, newspaper accounts mentioned the rooftop included “fir trees” and something they called “flaming fountains.”
The garden closed in 1971, and the building manager told reporters, “We had to put a stop to it because people kept throwing things off the roof.” A flaming fountain, dropped 38 floors, would indeed be a hazard to Main Street pedestrians.
And on top of all that was a massive blue box, illuminated with a lighted sign for UP Bank, because Union Planters National Bank had a large branch on the lower floors. The sign prompted Memphians to believe the bank’s headquarters were located here; in fact, those were blocks away, at 67 Madison Avenue.
Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2015, the U.S. Department of the Interior’s “Narrative Description” notes that 100 North Main “has had very few changes and retains the integrity of setting, location, design, workmanship, materials, and feeling which combine to convey the significance of this office building.”
Despite the effort put into the modern design, it seems some of those components didn’t hold up over the years. That same National Register listing mentions “loss of marble chip patina due to the failure of the polystyrene” (the adhesive that held it in place), and “the single-light aluminum windows have clouded.” Even worse, chunks of the outside concrete began to crumble and fall off.
photograph courtesy special collections, university of memphis libraries
On the morning of June 30, 1963, city officials watch as Lee Baker Bloomfield, the 13-year-old son of developer Harry Bloomfield, wields a gold-plated shovel at the groundbreaking for 100 North Main.
The “UP Bank” letters came down in 2005, when Regions Bank acquired Union Planters and closed that branch. “The sign was never replaced,” according to autopsyofarchitecture.com, “and the tower’s top cap is a blue, empty box, giving the building a somewhat abandoned appearance.”
It was more than just an appearance. Over the years, major tenants moved out, and according to that same website, by 2012, barely 30 percent of 100 North Main was occupied.
That number steadily dwindled to zero, and various developers announced ambitious plans to transform the tower into apartments or a hotel. In the meantime, 100 North Main continued to decline, with inspectors finding broken elevators, electrical problems, and fire hazards. In fact, in 2017, a blaze broke out on the top floors, probably set by intruders. It was extinguished by firefighters, who had to lug hoses up 34 flights of stairs.
The building sold at auction in 2018, and new owners Townhouse Management Company, based in New York City, unveiled plans to convert 100 North Main into a 550-room Loew’s Hotel, with 200 other units turned into apartments. Last year, however, Loew’s announced their intention to build a brand-new hotel Downtown, and 100 North Main would play no role in the ongoing expansion of the Memphis Convention Center.
On May 2nd, the Downtown Memphis Commission purchased the building for $12 million. Although specific plans for the property are at this point still uncertain, options include demolition to make way for a parking garage, since the one-acre site, occupying half of a city block, could hold as many as 1,200 cars.
As we go to press, the fate of Memphis’ tallest building, once considered an architectural marvel, is uncertain. In its “Statement of Significance,” the National Register listing concluded: “The 100 North Main Building, developer Harry Bloomfield’s grand architectural vision, remains a unique focal point of the Memphis riverfront skyline, as much today as when originally constructed.”
That listing, however, does not prevent owners from demolishing historic structures (they just cannot use federal funds to do so). Unless other developers step forward with different plans — and do it soon — 100 North Main may become little more than a convenient place to park your car.
For a gallery of photos of 100 North Main, then and now, visit autopsyofarchitecure.com/100northmain.