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Dear Vance: What was the original use of the property at 1870 Madison, which today houses the local chapter of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers? Has it always been a union hall? – a.t., memphis.
Dear A.T.: Every time I stagger out of the liquor store at Madison and Barksdale, hauling cases of Kentucky Nip to the Lauderdale limousine, I pause long enough to catch my breath and admire the nice details of this old building, with its steeply pitched roof, its imposing entrance, and especially its rows of fine (and very tall) windows. Everything about the overall “look” of 1870 Madison suggests it was originally built as a schoolhouse, so I knew it was a simple matter of checking old city directories and finding just what school it was.
The Shelby County Assessor’s page shows this property was constructed in 1890, which makes it older than I expected. And that presented quite a problem — one that required the assistance of two separate government agencies, friends at various libraries, a Memphis historian now living in California, and even a nice woman from Virginia — to solve.
I won’t give away my patented research skills, but I quickly determined that the IBEW had moved into the building in 1943, moving from smaller facilities they had previously occupied on Beale Street, so I let A.T. know that the building wasn’t originally built as a union hall. But that was only half of her question. What was its first use? Inexplicably, city directories before 1943 didn’t always list this address. The few times it showed up over the years, the books identified a variety of small businesses, including a Mr. Bowers Grocery Store, but surely such an imposing structure had been constructed for a grander purpose.
That half-century gap in its history, from 1890 to 1943, was perplexing. So I turned to my pals at the Shelby County Register of Deeds and the Shelby County Archives, hoping they could explain “The Mystery of the Missing Schoolhouse.” At this point, you see, I was still convinced 1870 Madison had been a school, but I had no proof. Archives managers Fred Beckham and Derrick Mink looked through their records and found that in 1926, a business called Hatley Manufacturing Company was located there. Years earlier, in 1920, the Woodruff-Powell Lumber Company was listed.
And that’s when Derrick turned up a tiny listing for the Miller School in a 1915 city directory. Not at 1870 Madison, inexplicably, but at 1880. And then Derrick, hot on the trail, searched the internet for “Miller School” and put me in touch with Gene Gill.
Now living in Pasadena, California, Gene is an administrator of the very fine Historic Memphis website (historic-memphis.com). He not only has devoted an entire page to the Miller School, but told me that he recently obtained a 1912-1913 Miller School catalog that included photos of the school and described its staff and curriculum.
So finally, thanks entirely to the hard work of others (which is the way I prefer it), here’s what I know:
The Miller School opened on Madison in 1910, started by Professor Phipps Miller, who had originally taught at Memphis University School when it was located on South Manassas. Phipps and his wife, a woman with the lovely name of Hannabelle, originally opened their school in a smaller wooden building several doors to the east — possibly while the larger facility was under construction.
Much like MUS, the Miller School was a preparatory school for boys. According to Gene’s old catalog, students “were taught to grow in knowledge, build character, and strive for a high standard of Christian leadership.” The class offerings were impressive; Gene says the curriculum included such basics as mathematics, English, history, geography, science, and spelling, along with French, German, Greek, and Latin.
Of all those subjects, spelling was considered the most important: “Believing that no branch of education is more necessary than correct spelling, no pupil is excused from the study of orthography, and daily recitations are required from the entire enrollment. A gold medal will be awarded to the pupil who makes the highest average grade in orthography on the work of the year.”
(I absolutely agree, and I certainly hope my computer’s spell-check program finds any mistakes in this column.)
The catalog describes the facilities in some detail: “The basement floor will contain the heating plant, also a large playroom, 40 by 60 feet, equipped with showers, lockers, and gymnasium apparatus. This room will have air and sun from north, east, and west. On the main floor will be the study hall, 40 by 60 feet, and connected will be seven commodious rooms for library, office, and recitation rooms.”
Including Phipps Miller, the school had four instructors and five special lecturers, who spoke on “The Sound Body in Youth as a Basis for Health in Age,” “The Boy: His Friends, His Enemies,” and even “The Schools of China Compared with American Schools.” Another instructor, identified as Mrs. E.W. Hughes of New York, was an expert on the rather general topic of “Safety.” I guess she traveled around the country delivering that fascinating lecture.
The catalog claims almost 100 students attended during 1912-1913. Good grief, the school that I had never heard of had its own literary society and even organized football, baseball, and basketball teams. North of the campus was “a beautiful field for athletics bounded by McLean, Court, and stretching eastward toward Tucker, affording ample facilities for football, baseball, and track.”
Especially interesting was a page in the catalog listing sample questions Miller School students might encounter on their final exam. Here’s just one of them: “Given (a) a right cylinder whose radius is 6 inches, altitude 8 inches; (b) a right cone, radius base equal 6 inches, altitude 8 inches; (c) a sphere, radius 6 inches; (d) frustum of right cone, radius of lower base, 16 inches; radius upper base, 10 inches; altitude, 8 inches. Find cost of gilding the total area of these four solids at 18 cents per square inch.”
Uhhh, could you repeat the question? (The correct answer is, of course: South Dakota.)
Obviously, this school wasn’t for just anybody: “Only boys of good moral character will be enrolled, and the principal reserves the right to request the immediate withdrawal of any pupil who may prove unworthy of trust, who will not conform his conduct to the honor system, or who may seek to obstruct the work of the school by persistent violation of the rules.”
Hmmm. Even though the catalog named all the students that year, I found not a single Lauderdale among them. Surely an oversight.
So who was Phipps Miller, and what happened to him? According to Gene Gill’s research, Miller was born in Hawkins County, Tennessee, in 1866. At the age of 8 his family moved to Virginia, and he graduated from the University of Virginia in 1893. It’s not clear where he met Hannabelle, but they moved to Memphis in 1899, when Miller took a job as chairman of the MUS mathematics department.
While Phipps and Hannabelle taught at the school, they lived in an apartment at the rear of the building. Unfortunately, they didn’t stay there very long. Years earlier, Miller had contracted typhoid fever, which impaired his health, and only 10 years after opening his impressive new school on Madison, he was forced to retire and close it.
After that, the imposing building did indeed house a number of smaller businesses, seemingly out of keeping with the relative grandeur of their surroundings.
Now, have you been paying attention? What about the woman in Virginia I mentioned earlier? Well, Patricia J. Treadwell, the great-niece of Phipps Miller, contacted Gene Gill with this information: “After Phipps became ill, he and Hannabelle went to live with my grandparents near Rogersville, Tennessee. He died October 13, 1923. Hannabelle then went back to Marion, Virginia (where she was born) and died there October 25, 1925. Both Phipps and Hannabelle are buried at Round Hill Cemetery in Marion, Virginia.”
Patricia provided the old photographs you see here of Phipps and Hannabelle, along with an image of the school as it looked in 1910, and A.T. provided the first-rate color photograph showing the building today, along with others that are so fine I will post them on my blog. The old school has remained remarkably unchanged throughout the years. I’m glad the IBEW members have taken care of such an important part of our city’s past.
But wait a minute. If the building was constructed in 1890, and Phipps opened his school here in 1910, A.T. — who just won’t let this go — points out that it doesn’t take a mathematical genius, or a Miller School graduate, to see I haven’t fully solved this mystery. What was there in those intervening years? Now look, these bottles of Kentucky Nip can’t wait forever. Haven’t I done enough for my two-hour workday?
Got a question for Vance?
Email: askvance@memphismagazine.com
Mail: Vance Lauderdale, Memphis magazine,
460 Tennessee Street #200, Memphis, TN 38103
