Bound and Determined

The 50-year history of “Memphis Magazine” — both on and off the page.

by

Features

On the afternoon of August 16, 1977, Memphians learned the tragic news that the reign of the King of Rock-and-Roll had come to a sudden end. A heart attack had felled Elvis Presley at his Graceland estate; he was pronounced dead at Baptist Hospital at 3:30 p.m. After recovering from the initial shock, J. Robert “Bob” Towery found himself in quite a dilemma. The publisher of City of Memphis magazine realized that the September issue had been written, designed, and readied for the printer, with a cover story focusing on — of all things — the Dutch elm blight. What would readers think in just two weeks when they picked up his magazine and concluded that, instead of a tribute to Elvis — not even a mention — the staff was more concerned with the fate of our area’s ... trees?

Since we don’t cover breaking news, monthly magazines rarely have dramatic “Stop the presses!” moments. But this was such a moment. Towery gathered his production team and quickly came up with an alternative plan. Scrapping the original cover story, he contracted freelance contributor Jackson Baker to write a feature on the life and death of Elvis. He also asked local illustrator Frank Morris to create a new cover image — a somber portrait of Elvis — with Morris also providing inside artwork.

Somehow, in those pre-computer days, we pulled it off. The drastically revised September issue included “A Special 16-Page Retrospective,” complete with a four-page pullout illustrated by Frank Morris and Ed Hirth and an early photo by William Speer. The cover story, “Elvis: End of an Era,” was an instant classic, one of the best tributes to the King ever written — anywhere. It has been reprinted three times in these pages over the years, and original copies of the September 1977 issue, now an antique, remain steady sellers in our online archival shop.

It must also be said that this accomplishment helped cement the reputation of City of Memphis — then just over a year old — as a serious and professional journalistic enterprise.

How It All Began

In April 1976, Memphians discovered a brand-new publication on the newsstands (as did a few far-sighted charter subscribers, who found it in their mailboxes). If anyone was puzzled by the editorial mission of the 44-page magazine called City of Memphis (a Chamber of Commerce publication had already nabbed the simpler title of Memphis), they probably weren’t any more enlightened after reading the cover story, “A Conversation with Boss Crump.” Since the former mayor had died 22 years earlier, publishing an imaginary “conversation” may not have been the best way to introduce Volume One, Number One to a new audience. Other stories, though, hinted at the magazine’s potential, including a “Speakout” essay by acclaimed attorney Lucius Burch, a profile of 80-year-old obstetrician Dr. Phil Schreier (a precursor to our present-day “Local Treasures” columns), a four-page spread on what we called “natural” fashions, a short dining review, and a monthly calendar — content readers still expect to find in city magazines.

The second issue was, quite possibly, as intriguing as the first, with a grainy cover shot showing a gentleman wearing shades and a hat, alongside the title: “Who is this man, and why is everyone (else) talking about him?” Well, that man was photographer William Eggleston, right on the brink of international fame, and this was “his first hometown showing.” Also inside, acclaimed local author John Fergus Ryan penned a tribute to another writer of considerable fame: “The William Faulkner I Knew.” A third feature pondered the demise of the much-loved regional magazine, The Delta Review. All in all, a solid issue, to be followed by others that first year.

Towery, owner of a weekly newspaper called the Whitehaven Press, had a keen eye for talent. In those early years, it was a small team, but a good one. Ken DeCell, who got started in journalism working for his parents’ tiny newspaper in Rolling Fork, Mississippi, was editor. He would later enjoy a long career as senior editor of Washingtonian. The art director, for the first two issues, was Jack Atkinson, but then a Memphis State University graphic design student from Noxapater, Mississippi, named Fred Woodward took over. He would hold that post until 1980. Woodward went on to helm the art departments of D magazine, Texas Monthly, and even Rolling Stone. Named to the Art Directors Hall of Fame, that organization observed, “Woodward redefined the possibilities of editorial design.”

The new magazine was something of a family affair; Ken DeCell’s wife, Florri, was the editorial assistant, and Bob’s wife, Patty (known only to readers as “Lola,” no last name) was calendar editor and circulation manager.

The magazine’s promising start was a magnet to freelance writers, artists, and photographers who didn’t mind hard work at low pay. Space prevents us from listing everyone, but by 1978, when the magazine finally shortened its name to Memphis, it had attracted Ed Weathers, Kenneth Neill, Susan Turley (now Dynerman), and David Dawson, the core team who would play key roles as the magazine developed. Surrounded by Ivy League graduates (Neill: Yale, Weathers: Columbia, Turley: Barnard), Dawson, a Memphis State grad, used to say, “I was the only one with a decent education.” Our crudely effective index-card system is jammed with stories from these four. Among our favorites: Neill’s “Fred Smith’s Million-Dollar Dream Machine” (August 1978 and reprinted several times since), Turley’s “Billy Dunavant: The King of Cotton” (September 1979), Dawson’s “The Ghost in Seat C-3” (October 1979), and Weathers’ “Wyeth Chandler: The Man in City Hall” (July 1981).

Other contributors appeared in print for the first time in these pages. For example, W. Hampton Sides began as an intern after graduating from Yale. His sympathetic profile of “Boxcar Eddie: The Nocturnal Scavenger of the Highland Strip” (November 1982) showed his reporting skills. Then he headed south to Falkner, Mississippi, to write about a love triangle gone horribly wrong. The result was “Sad Song from the Hills” (December 1985), still considered by many the finest piece of investigative journalism ever published in our magazine. It certainly made readers sit up and think, “This young man could amount to something someday.” You be the judge: In 2001, his World War II saga Ghost Soldiers was a New York Times bestseller. Sides’ other books, all bestsellers, include Hellhound on His Trail (the pursuit of James Earl Ray), In the Kingdom of Ice, and The Wide Wide Sea.

An early slogan for our magazine was “We Show You the Town,” and John Branston did that as well as anybody, when he joined our company after a long career as a reporter for The Commercial Appeal. In 1996, our twentieth anniversary year, he began an ambitious 10-part monthly series, later compiled into a book, The Making of Modern Memphis. As he described it, the package “takes readers on a journey through our city’s vibrant music and entertainment scenes; goes behind the scenes with the U.S. Attorney’s office and judges who first ordered school desegregation here; and introduces some of our city’s leading developers, business owners, and politicians (including rare interviews with our three living mayors).”

Then there was Barry Willis, longtime managing editor and king of headline writing. Anybody struggling for a headline only had to consult Barry. He also wrote feature stories, as well as witty columns for the magazine’s last-page essay. This started out as “Back Porch” and went though many incarnations, until becoming “Last Stand”; the back page still serves as a space for any topic at all. We’ve never taken the time to list the various authors who contributed to this page (Ed Weathers and our advertising director, Mark Seitman, often rotated in that capacity), but in recent years, no one comes close to managing editor Frank Murtaugh, a poignant and efficient writer, who has penned more than 60 “Last Stands.”

We Showed You the Town

It must be said, if you’ll pardon the bragging, that while many other city magazines devoted their pages to fashion, food, and other “fluffy” topics, Memphis never shied away from careful treatments of complicated topics.

Just a few examples: “The Night Martin Luther King Was Killed” by Joan Beifuss (July 1977) was later incorporated into her acclaimed book on the Civil Rights Movement, At the River I Stand. “The Voices of Fourth and Vance” by Perry Hall, subtitled “Singing in a Dark Place,” required true “boots on the ground” interviews with residents of one of this city’s most impoverished areas, with stunning photographs by Erik Calonius (July 1978). And “Adoption for Profit” (October and November 1978), a two-part series by Kenneth Neill on the scandal that rocked the Tennessee Children’s Home and provoked national outrage, served as a primary source for books and even a made-for-TV movie starring Mary Tyler Moore as the sinister Georgia Tann.

And those were our early years. Similar long-form stories — the ones that consumed weeks, if not months, of the writer’s time, and the articles many readers still remember to this day — include: “Breaking Down the Wall: Race Relations in Memphis” (October 1983); “A Life on the Edge, ” by Ed Weathers, about a good guy gone very bad (November 1991); “The Hand That Feeds Us,” the plight of American farmers told by Mack Ray, a farmer himself (September 1992); “The Realm of the Blue Children,” Jacqueline Marino’s heartbreaking account of American medical aid for children in war-torn Yugoslavia (June 1998); “A Sailor’s Story,” a disturbing tale of discrimination in the U.S. Navy by Tim Sampson (October 1993); “Anatomy of an Inferno,” Preston Lauterbach’s in-depth look at the devastating blaze that destroyed downtown landmarks (February 2007); and “Murder in Central Gardens,” Marilyn Sadler’s two-part investigation into the murder of Emily Fisher (October/November 2007). The list goes on and on, but you get the idea.

We didn’t always depress readers with dark topics. From the very beginning, we partnered with Memphis in May to produce cover stories and detailed guides that would introduce readers to the past, present, and future of each year’s honored country. We followed that same approach years later, with the Wonders Series, devoting cover stories to the full-scale exhibitions of everything from “Titanic!” to “The Treasures of the Ottoman Empire.” In those pre-internet days, these projects often meant writers joined press junkets that would take them to such locales as Thailand, Kenya, Russia, and Peru. And we worked with the local theater community to sponsor the annual Memphis Theatre Awards (today called the Ostranders).

It’s clear from any perusal of our 50-year archive that we made a special effort to showcase the people, places, and events that shaped our city. Over the years, in addition to more than a dozen cover stories devoted to Elvis Presley, we profiled such luminaries as actress Cybill Shepherd (three times), artist Carroll Cloar (twice), cotton magnate Julien Hohenberg, defense attorney Marvin Ballin, Holiday Inns founder Kemmons Wilson, longtime Memphis College of Art director Ted Rust, acclaimed architect Roy Harrover, legendary Memphis Tigers’ basketball player and coach Larry Finch, tourism leader Kevin Kane, opera star Kallen Esperian, Memphis Symphony music director Robert Moody, and musical legends B.B. King, Jerry Lee Lewis, Rufus Thomas, Carla Thomas, and — yes — even Led Zeppelin.

We have also celebrated local institutions on the occasions of their own milestones, with cover packages devoted to FedEx, St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, The Peabody, and Burke’s Book Store.

Connecting with Readers

Surveys and focus groups have told us our readers especially enjoy features on homes, dining, and local history. The “Great Memphis Homes” series evolved into today’s “Habitats” series — places that maybe weren’t giant mansions but were fascinating residences. We have never published a magazine without visiting a restaurant, and readers learned they could trust the refined tastes of Andy Hill, Tom Martin, Kay Womack, Mary Ann Eagle, Nicky Robertshaw, Pam Denney, Sam Cicci, and others.

Recent years have even offered a double-treat, with man-about-town Michael Donahue’s “Classic Dining” column about older establishments that have stood the test of time. Bruce VanWyngarden’s popular “Sips” column appeals to those who prefer more liquid refreshment. Beginning in 1983, we have also presented this city’s most definitive restaurant poll, inviting readers to vote on their favorite establishments. If anyone needs proof of the honor of being named a winner, just visit those places and notice the certificates proudly displayed on their walls.

We engaged readers in other ways, too. In the 1980s, we held photography contests (a treat for the winner and a way to include more photos in that issue) and introduced the first Fiction Contest, working in conjunction with local bookstores. Winners not only received a rather generous check, but their story was published in the magazine — the first time in print for many of these authors. The first contest took place in 1989, when judges gave first-place to “Games of Chance,” a short story by local writer Joy Tremeyan.

A sure-fire way to get readers involved was by offering them money. In December 1980, Dr. Lancelot Bueno made his first appearance in these pages, spinning complicated yarns about his family and tales of lost fortunes. These served as the impetus for popular treasure hunts, the first titled “The Lost Ring of Ichabod Bueno,” modestly subtitled “The Greatest Scavenger Hunt in Memphis History” (August 1982). Readers scrutinized every word of Dr. Bueno, even studying the photographs he provided, because — sure enough — they offered clues.

More than a thousand people took part in these escapades, though the owners of Galloway Golf Course (known today as the Links at Galloway) may still be sore about the time misguided readers, armed with shovels, dug up one of their greens in a futile search for that ring. Needless to say, not only did we encourage Dr. Bueno to provide better clues, but — and this is true — our editorial staff later spent an afternoon at Galloway, repairing the damage.

Now that we think of it, it was always a mystery who, exactly, Dr. Bueno was, or where he came from. Someone noted they had never seen Lancelot and David Dawson together at the same time. No ... it’s just too fantastic to consider.

Blending Words and Images

Beyond the written word, we’ve always tried to make Memphis Magazine a highly visual publication. Obviously, we accomplish this with photographs and artwork that enhance the stories. But we credit Richard Alley, editor of our adjunct publication, Inside Memphis Business, for conceiving “The Mind’s Eye” series — a salute to the extraordinary vision of this region’s best shutterbugs. The first installment, in March 2016, featured former Commercial Appeal photographer Bob Williams. Over the years, we’ve showcased the life’s work of Saj Crone, Andrea Morales, Willy Bearden, Ziggy Mack, Murray Riss, and Huger Foote — 13 profiles in all, so far.

Photographers who have squinted through viewfinders to provide us with perfect images include Larry Kuzniewski, Clay Tomas, Karen Pulfer Focht, Gary Witt, Justin Fox Burks, Ben Fink, Brandon Dill, and many others. We’re also grateful to truly fantastic illustrators, especially Calvin Foster, Frank Morris, and John Robinette in the early days, who created most of our eye-catching covers, and more recently Martha Kelly, Martha Park, and Carolyn Pollan.

Writing a history of our own publication — even an abbreviated one like this — is an obvious reminder that Memphis has been a reliable source for stories about how this city came to be. Over the years, we’ve presented such wide-ranging historical topics as East End Park, the Spanish Flu of 1918, Riverside Drive, the Frisco Bridge, the Sterick Building, the Ford Motor Company payroll robbery, the birth of Overton Square, and the arrest of Machine Gun Kelly.

Sometime around 1991, we managed to lure away from the Memphis Flyer, where he first found employment, an eccentric writer going by the name of Vance Lauderdale. Now appearing every month in these pages, his “Ask Vance” column tackles readers’ questions about our city’s past. These tend to be topics that fall between the cracks of more formal history books, and if anyone wants details about the Civil War or the birthplace of Mayor Watkins Overton, they can just Google that. But for readers hoping to relive fond memories of watching Looney Zoo, slurping ice cream at the Tropical Freeze, or enjoying a shrimp platter at the Luau, Vance has written about these in his “mysteries of history.”

Over the years, Memphis Magazine has earned its fair share of journalism awards from such groups as the City and Regional Magazine Association and the Society of Professional Journalists. Some awards had nothing to do with the written word but saluted excellence in design. We were lucky, from the very beginning, to hire a truly great designer (Fred Woodward). But much of our visual impact is the direct result of the continuity of the design crew. In 50 years, in an industry known for high turnover, it’s truly remarkable how few art directors have worked here. If readers admire the way this magazine has looked, year after year, it’s due to the talents of art directors like Murry Keith, Risë Nathan, Marcus Villaca, Hudd Byard, Hannah Johnson, and our current design director, Brian Groppe.

A Half-Century

Fifty years works out to 600 magazines. We don’t want to think how many stories we’ve written, how many pages fill the bound volumes in our archives, how many words have filled these pages. But we know that, even after a half-century, we’ve barely scratched the surface of all the stories this city can tell us. So we will continue pressing forward, as long as you keep reading.

In that first issue, way back in April 1976, Boss Crump — or at least the spiritual manifestation we “discovered” — concluded his thoughts on the Bluff City in this way: “Memphis hasn’t gotten into a rut like many cities. And it must not, for the only difference between a rut and a grave is the dimensions. There might be a better place to live than Memphis, but as far as I’m concerned, no such place exists.”

Memphis Magazine wouldn’t have survived all these years — and we wouldn’t be looking forward to the next 50 — if our staff, advertisers, and most importantly our readers didn’t agree. Stick around for the 100th anniversary, will you?