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| Photo courtesy of Jason Harmon |
In the dark of night, the restaurant on the corner stands empty, only the bells of the trolley cars and the faint rhythm of blues from Beale Street reminding passerby that this is not a ghost-town. Everything about the place, from its now-darkened neon signs to faded red and white lettering spelling “The Arcade,” attempts to recapture the 50s and 60s, an era when Memphis buzzed with excitement. Elvis once roamed these streets in a pink Cadillac convertible. Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Cash ate in this diner and then walked down the street to Sun Studios. Now they are immortalized through photographic evidence above the pastel booths, worn boomerang tables, and bright ketchup bottles, forever smiling over their burgers and fries. The pale glow of the streetlamp reveals an empty street lined with a strange array of modern art galleries, edgy boutiques, and forgotten shop windows with boards nailed across the neglected glass shielding the dusty memorabilia from the passing time. The windows of The Arcade are shadowed, giving no hint to the life that will buzz inside in a few hours.
Tomorrow, patrons will line the street in front of this icon. Locals with copies of The Commercial Appeal will check their Blackberries and iPhones as they plan the busy day that follows their sweet potato pancakes and sausage casserole. Tourists will pose for pictures next to the humming neon sign and the historical marker next to the door, gladly waiting an hour to sit in this time capsule. Settling into the soft vinyl booth, they can envision sharing that meal with John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., or Marilyn Monroe, these phantom images of iconic figures sitting on the same vinyl hanging above customers’ heads. One booth will stand empty all day, but no one will complain. This is “The King’s” booth. Another butt hasn’t graced this seat since Elvis Presley’s last fried peanut butter and banana sandwich with steak fries. The air will be heavy with pancake syrup and grilled burgers, stinging the eyes and tempting the taste buds of passerby. We will have coffee in ceramic cups- not a latte or half-caf, non-fat soy creation, but real, fresh coffee- as we listen to “Walking in Memphis” on the well-worn jukebox in the corner, greeting our fellow Memphians with a small smile or nod before boarding the trolley that will return us to the reality of our modern lives.
