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VOL. 129 | NO. 86 | Friday, May 02, 2014

Dan Conaway

Dan Conaway

The Heartbreak Hotel

By Dan Conaway

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HEARTBREAK HOTEL. ON THE EDGE OF THINGS. “They’re calling this area The Edge, and it’s about to explode,” Ben said.

We were looking up at The Heartbreak Hotel, a stack of bricks where traveling salesmen a century ago would rest their sample cases for the night, rising three tired stories above the all-but-forgotten intersection of Monroe and Marshall – pretty much like Elvis sang – down at the end of Lonely Street.

“Maybe I’ll turn it into condos,” he said, “start with my office down here, put a swimming pool in the courtyard. Worst case, I’ll end up in an office with a swimming pool.”

That’s the way Ben Reisman looked at things, with pragmatic imagination, seeing reality and what’s possible at the same time. He’d bought the place for a song after the owners got in a fight and closed their restaurant there. They’d called it The Heartbreak Hotel, painted a picture of the King on the side of the building, and used the tail end and trunk of a 1957 Cadillac for a salad bar.

It was 1985. I was starting a creative service for radio stations and I needed an office with a creative personality, and I needed it cheap. Ben carved out a corner for me on the second floor with a couple of bay windows over the street, and I stayed for five years.

He never did put in that pool, and everything above the ground floor remained empty except for my office, but the building was full of personality. An architect, an interior designer, a fashion accessories boutique, a developer, a contractor, a home health care consultant, a couple of lawyers, several dogs, and a receptionist who would bite your head off.

Sun Studio was a short block away. They shot the movie “Great Balls Of Fire” right in front of us. Weekly, buses full of tourists would stop right below my window and, as we stared at each other, I’m sure the guide told them this was THE Heartbreak Hotel.

I look up at that window, the space behind it long dark, every time I pull into Tracy’s across the street so Sam and his guys can work on my car, and sometimes I think of Ben.

After we’d left The Heartbreak, Ben and his wife, Laurel, fell in love with a little girl and sued the state for the right to adopt her and won. Before the Reismans, a white couple couldn’t adopt a mixed-raced child in Tennessee. Then they sued again on behalf of all children and won again, changing adoption policy in Tennessee regardless of racial classification. Ben died in 2000, and his lawyer in those cases, Hayden Lait, was quoted in Ben’s obituary, “He just had that innate sense of what is right.”

The Edge didn’t explode back then, or even heat up, but it’s certainly getting hot 30 years later, and it looks as if Ben was right after all. After all, he did change things.

I’m a Memphian, and we’re in a better place because of Ben.

Dan Conaway is a lifelong Memphian, longtime adman and aspiring local character in a city known for them. Reach him at dan@wakesomebodyup.com.

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RECORD TOTALS DAY WEEK YEAR
PROPERTY SALES 65 366 17,721
MORTGAGES 70 417 23,068
FORECLOSURE NOTICES 15 91 4,519
BUILDING PERMITS 210 932 42,157
BANKRUPTCIES 62 299 16,691
BUSINESS LICENSES 19 80 5,781
UTILITY CONNECTIONS 49 305 25,174
MARRIAGE LICENSES 16 96 5,381

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