"Welcome to Avenue!" | The Magic of Avenue
I spent the last few hours scrolling through photos from 2016-2020. Finding photos of old friends, friends I had no idea would change my life, memories that make me ache, and moments I’ve never been so thankful were documented - all inside a special little white building in the middle of a Memphis neighborhood. Every time a photo of Avenue comes up I can remember the exact day. I can remember the moment so well.
Avenue makes Memphis history in my books. In the moment, you just don’t know you are a part of something so special, so memorable. When I moved in with my best friend in 2016, I had no idea we would spend probably 50% of my time in a coffee shop off Echles and Douglas. I had no idea I would meet some of the coolest and weirdest people there. I had no idea I was a part of this big beautiful era of Avenue Coffee. I had no idea I would spend at least four nights a week staying after closing. I had no idea I would watch friends have their first dates there. I had no idea I would edit some of my best photographs there. I had no ideas I would cry, nap, and laugh so much at those tables. I had no Idea I would help a friend propose to his girlfriend there. I had no idea I would feel comfortable enough to wander to the dish room to hug my best friend on a hard day. I had no idea I would spend my first year living on my own being a part of a weird little community that’s mutuality was literally that we all loved Avenue. I had no idea when I started ordered coffee at Avenue, It would be a place I’ll forever cherish. I had no idea that season would ever end.
Avenue was home. You didn’t have to work there to yell “welcome to avenue!” when the door swung open. Avenue was the place you could never go to hide… inside those walls, strangers became friends in seconds (whether you liked it or not). I have friends to this day that I met because one of us just joined a random conversation across tables. It was weirdly normal to be offered Gibson donuts, pizza, or insomnia cookies that someone brought. Anyone and everyone would watch your books and laptop if you had to run to get food. The amount of times I left my harddrives and laptop out at a table for up to an hour, and wasn’t worried because I knew my family was watching.
You went to Avenue to mutually complain over finals and professors. You went to Avenue to pretend to work, but really end up talking for hours with baristas and friends. You went to Avenue for a good laugh. You went to Avenue to pass time. You went to Avenue to feel home.
And you know whats so crazy? There coffee was freakin good, but somehow that isn’t what we will remember about Avenue. It’s the magic of Avenue we are gonna miss. You can’t replicate it - you can do your best to make a place feel a certain way, but you just don’t know if the magic will showup. The people who came through that door, those who shared their love of coffee, and the millions of conversations that filled the air - thats what made Avenue. It was the predictable unpredictability. That you didn’t know who would be there, but you knew someone would be there to hug and get lost in conversation with. It was how somehow you felt ownership over that place after just a few visits. I know I wanted to make sure EVERYONE felt what I felt in Avenue. The magic of Avenue.
Avenue was a home.
