photograph courtesy Memphis and Shelby County Room, Benjamin L. Hooks Central Library
In the early 1900s, riverboat passengers on the Mississippi knew they were drawing near Memphis by the smell. Although the city’s founders had laid out a well-organized community, with parks and a public promenade, they made little provision for the bluffs themselves. Over the years, as late as the 1920s, businesses and houses along the riverfront were perched atop a huge landfill, a mountain of garbage constantly dumped into the water below.
It wasn’t just unsightly, but unsafe. In 1922, the earth dropped out from under a Frisco Railroad train. The locomotive tumbled into the river, carrying the track and freight cars with it, with the crew leaping out just in time. Four years later, it happened again. In 1926, workers at the Tennessee Brewery discovered deep fissures in the bluffs behind their building and heard ominous rumbling noises from deep underground. Everyone in the area rushed to evacuate, when suddenly, a chunk of the bluffs almost three blocks long plunged 50 feet into the river, taking with it houses and the entire West Kentucky Coal Company.
Clearly something had to be done to solve two problems: How to reinforce the bluffs at Memphis, and how to introduce a major new north-south traffic artery into Downtown. The solution was a complicated project that linked private land owners, the city and federal governments, several railroads, and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which was in charge of maintaining the river channel. Construction finally began in 1930 on what became known as “the world’s most expensive highway.”
While workers stabilized and graded the bluffs to form a gentle slope to prevent more landslides, others created a berm for the new roadway, using dirt from the excavation from the foundation of the 29-story Sterick Building (see our July issue for a complete story of “The Queen of Memphis”). The plan, officials explained, was like reinforcing a shelf in a china cabinet, so the plate — in this case, the bluff itself — wouldn’t slide down. The result was the new Riverside Drive, and two new riverfront parks: Astor Park and, farther north, Jefferson Davis Park.
In 1925, river worker Tom Lee had become a national hero when he rescued 30 passengers after the steamboat M.E. Norman sank near Memphis. In gratitude, the city of Memphis purchased Lee and his wife a house (still standing) on North Mansfield. Two years after Lee’s death in 1952, they renamed Astor Park in his honor. The 30 acres of Tom Lee Park became a new “front door” for the city.
photograph courtesy Memphis and Shelby County Room, Benjamin L. Hooks Central Library
Construction begins to shape the new highway.
Unfortunately, a distinctive feature of Riverside Drive made its appearance about this time — its undulating “roller coaster” ride. The section south of Beale had been laid on a landfill, prone to shifting and sinking. Other problems with the road included a dangerous curve that caused an alarming number of accidents over the years. Various “Band-Aid” solutions were applied, but it wasn’t until 1990 when the city decided to invest $2 million to rebuild and realign the entire roadway.
This comprehensive plan included filling in the low-lying John B. Edgar Point, an often-flooded area south of Tom Lee Park, which would add 20 acres to the riverfront. City Engineer James Collins announced other improvements to Tom Lee Park: “We’ll add 20 feet of topsoil, dress it up, and turn it into a park area, with walkways.” Plans also included public parking, “but we don’t want a sea of asphalt.”
But that was the extent of it — Tom Lee Park was now higher (making it less prone to flooding) and larger, with walkways and benches, but it basically remained an open field. It had become home to Memphis in May’s most popular events — the barbecue contest, the music festival, and until recent years the Sunset Symphony.
In 2014, Beale Street Landing opened, a hard-to-miss sloping building roofed with grass, designed by the RTN firm of Buenos Aires, Argentina. The new facility including docking for American Queen Line riverboats and other passenger vessels, a restaurant, and gift shop. In 2006, a life-sized bronze memorial crafted by Colorado sculptor David Clark, depicting an accurate portrayal of Tom Lee pulled a drowning victim into his boat, replaced an outdated stone monument.
It wasn’t until 2019, however, that a full reconstruction of the entire riverfront, under the direction of the newly formed Memphis River Parks Partnership, began. The group’s stated goal was to “create a connected, catalytic, and fun riverfront for all.” The sweeping redesign of Tom Lee Park pitted the needs of Memphis in May with other uses for the park, and every phase of the project was discussed, debated, and even temporarily derailed by the Covid pandemic. This September, the new park was officially unveiled. Quite a change from the way it once looked.
