THE TERMINAL BREWHOUSE

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WRITER Andy Johns   PHOTOGRAPHER: DAVID HUMBER  

When the three local entrepreneurs finally opened their brew pub on Market Street, one of the workers presented them with a gift: the building’s original door plate, with two .22-caliber bullet holes near the keyhole.

“Someone tried to go keyless,” said Terminal Brewhouse part-owner Geoff Tarr with a chuckle.

The door plate represents only a part of the mysterious history associated the century-old, wedge shaped building next to the Chattanooga Choo-Choo where the pub now stands.

“The history depends on who you ask,” Tarr explained.

The latest chapter in its history is certain: when the pub opened in January the Stong building finished it’s transformation from a crumbling curiosity into the sudsy jewel of the Southside.

The four-story building’s roots trace back to the same place and time as its next door neighbor, according to the research Tarr and his partners conducted. The original owners sought to lure in railroad travelers by opening a hotel right next to the train station shortly after it opened in 1909. Years later, the Stong was rumored to be home to illegal gambling houses, a speakeasy during prohibition and even a brothel.

“I’ve had customers say you could come in, have a drink, meet a girl and…” said part-owner Ryan Chilcoat pausing to choose his words before pointing upstairs to where ill-reputed bedrooms may have once been. “… and have a place to go.”

Chilcoat, Tarr and partner Matt Lewis trace the building’s ownership to Chester Davis, a black porter, who is said to have bought the building in the 1940s with tips he saved while working at the train station next door. The boarding house and cafe he is said to have run ranks as one of the first black-owned businesses in Chattanooga, according to the trio’s research.

Customers continue to tell stories about the building, teaching the owners more than they could have ever learned through books and records at the library.

“I would believe they’re all true to some extent,” said Chilcoat, who is the former manager at Hair of The Dog Pub where Tarr and Lewis are part-owners.

But some of that history had to be undone, in order to make the building useable again.

By 2006 city leaders had grown concerned about the building’s condition as most of the fl oor joists had caved in, causing the oddly-angled walls to lean inward. Officials told Davis’ descendants the family needed to re-stabilize the building, sell it to someone interested in renovation or tear it down, according to Tarr.

“It was starting to bow and bricks were starting to fall,” he said.

The family sold to Joe Sliger of East man Construction and work began with crews installing steel I-beams across the interior to straighten the sagging structure. Two small adjacent buildings “cobbled together” after the original construction were torn down and rebuilt to be the pub’s kitchen. Gapping holes in the Stong’s walls were patched and the south wall was sheet-rocked in for insulation while the brick was left exposed on the other walls.

When Tarr, Chilcoat and Lewis approached Sliger about leasing the space, ideas began to bubble up like the head on a mug of the pub’s oatmeal stout.

“It was basically a big open shell,” said Tarr, who also restores old houses for a living. “That was good because we had a blank slate.”

One of the partners’ main concerns was that the four-story building would feel like three separate restaurants with the basement left for the brewing. Sliger’s team solved the dilemma by leaving a wide, wedge-shaped opening next to the stairs from the brewing tanks in the basement up to the top floor. The cut-out, which is about 18 feet across, unifies the levels, giving customers the feel of eating on adjacent terraces rather than closed in and disconnected.

The stairs present a challenge for the wait staff , Chilcoat acknowledged.

“Everybody’s energy has to be super high because you have to run the stairs,” he explained.

The plumbing and wiring were re-worked to include waterless urinals, dual-flush toilets and other energy- and water-efficient products. The stainless steel brewing equipment and a walk-in refrigerator were installed in the basement.

Once the stabilization and major retrofitting were done, it was time for the three partners to agonize over the details. They argued for hours over the pattern and color of the hexagonal, honey-comb tiles on the bathroom floor. They debated back and forth over what material they should use for the back of the wine cabinet above the bar, finally going with an open back with black metal slats.

“We spent hours talking about little things where if you were opening a corporate restaurant you wouldn’t give a damn,” Chilcoat said.

The finished product is stunning—from the third floor’s hand-crafted tables made from reclaimed pocket doors from a historic Chattanooga home to the antique kerosene railroad lamps retrofitted for electricity above the tables on the main level.

Large parties can sit on the second floor at building’s front and sharpest angle at the custom-designed “Godfather table” which seats 12 to 14. A 15-foot retro-style sign hangs outside the building where a yellow arrow directs customers under a brass antique chandelier into the foyer at the main entrance.

“When you come into a building like this you’re entrusted with something,” Chilcoat said, taking a serious tone for the moment. “You can’t just slap something together.”

The steel I-beams were faced or covered with wood panels and the classic double-hung windows were restored with vintage-style, stained wooden trim.

Through a door on the second floor, diners and drinkers can enjoy the outdoors on the Terminal’s deck and beer garden where the owners plan to grow hops and herbs to use in their brewing and baking.

The bar has a one-of-a-kind style with the vintage beer cans cut, flattened, unrolled and shellacked into the bar top.

“We thought that made a good conversation piece,” Chilcoat said of the cans.

And once the conversation about the bar top is over and customers are finished discussing the architecture or the Stong’s checkered history, there’s always the story of the bullet-riddled door plate, which will soon be framed and hung near the bar. ◆

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