Not long ago, Steve Talley walked inside the former Big H Food Store, which sits closed and shuttered on the corner of Alton Park Boulevard and 38th Street.

He remembers growing up here, strolling through a thriving, lively boulevard thick with stores and commerce.

On his way down the sidewalk to Calvin Donaldson Elementary, he'd stop in at Randy Martin's full-service gas station with a dime or two for the gum ball machine.

"And little cakes," Steve said.

Randy Martin was a Black man who owned his own gas station. That fact alone - a Black man owning a full-service station - dug deep into Steve. ("To this day, I haven't met one since," he said.)

There was Willie's Grocery. Mr. Hamp's store.

And Big H.

That was then.

This is now.

Decades of economic disintegration and urban violence have left this corner empty and vacant.

It is a food desert within an economic desert.

Chattanooga has multiple places like this; not long ago, we walked the streets of east Chattanooga where, in neighborhoods adjacent to private schools, public schools and all our major hospitals, there's not one major grocery store or pharmacy.

In response, a community has three options.

Do nothing.

Wait for others to help.

Or, solve it yourself. Organize, strategize and act.

In his 1895 Atlanta Compromise speech, Booker T. Washington declared: cast down your bucket where you are.

Some 130 years later, a now-grown Steve Talley - standing in the empty Big H, right across from Randy Martin's now-gone gas pumps and gum balls  - thought of Washington's speech.

"Wherever you are," Steve said, "start your business."

Several years back, Steve - with two degrees and a successful construction company - cast down his bucket by opening Mtn. View Detailing and Car Wash. A few blocks away, his company built a new home for a local family.

"The first house built on this street in 50 years," he said.

Say that again.

"Fifty years," he said. "Fifty years."

He says this while gazing around, smiling, looking out at Alton Park from inside of the Big H.

He sees the potential. The promise. Exposed studs. The wall of 10 cooler doors. The slate floor. The bones, as they say, are good.

"There's a lot of space here," he said.

Outside in the parking lot, there's a party. Food trucks and a mobile shower and Power 94 and hot chicken. Sitting near the cold fusion ice cream is Councilwoman Raquetta Dotley.

She sees the potential, too.

She's casting her buckets here, too, trying to resurrect the Big H Store into something entirely new.

A cafe.

"Cocoa Cafe," she said.

Cocoa Cafe would help anchor a revitalization of this corner - Alton Park Boulevard and West 38th Street - which would then flow outward.

Jobs. Community. A kitchen incubator. A food truck commissary. An event space.

The psychological impact of knowing your community - just like every other - has its own coffee house.

From here? So much could expand outwards.

We first visited days after Easter; a series of portraits still hung outside the Big H - a local artist's version of the Stations of the Cross.

Not 2,000 years ago, but right here, in Alton Park, the thirst for resurrection and life to the fullest. Food deserts are economic wastelands, a wilderness with a zip code.

It takes faith, vision and a leader to restore what has been lost.

Sometimes, it falls apart.

But sometimes?

Buckets are cast down.

And a community lifted up.

Before she became councilwoman and church leader, Raquetta had another idea of what life would look like.

"Raquetta Dotley, your State Farm agent," she said, laughing.

Her laughter seems to come from two places: the knowing chuckle that emerges when we try to plan out life ... and a deep-seated joy. Being around Raquetta is contagious, good for the heart.

She remembers driving down Alton Park Boulevard years ago as stores began to shutter. A community, once lively, was folding inward,

She stopped right outside the Big H Store.

"A fight broke out," she said.

She had kids in the backseat; they saw it all. Raquetta, wanting to protect, save, shield, was stuck in that helpless place.

She couldn't leave her kids to stop it.

And no one else intervened.

"I was at the streetlight," she said. "Who's going to do something?"

Funny how God works.

She been approached by folks at The Bethlehem Center, the Gospel-based, century-old resource center in Alton Park; she began volunteering, then, she heard it: a voice. A call from God.

"Time to turn up the radio," she said, laughing again.

Raquetta heard that inner nudge, beckoning her deeper into church life.

She laughed: Lord, you know me. A church?

Part-time became full-time. Leaders began turning to her:

Raquetta can you lead the voter registration drive? Raquetta, can you oversee the food pantry program?

"Lord, I am so far out in this ocean," she told herself, "I am going to ride the wave."

Then, one day in 2018, the Big H caught her eye.

"The property was owned by out-of-town investors," she said.

Raquetta and other Bethlehem leaders began reaching out, every week for two years. Can we take over this property? Can we create something that's good for Alton Park?

Finally, the out-of-town response: yes.

"Let's do it," Raquetta said.

She was granted a lease on the property; the plans for Cocoa Cafe began to materialize.

Then, she asked others to cast their buckets here, too.

Mike Pollock from the Bobby Stone Foundation rode his bike over. Tucker Build's Jeff Cannon.

"Love Jeff Cannon," she said.

She showed them the building, spoke of hope. The exposed walls made new. God's love as the foundation.

More help arrived. Elemi Architects provided the design. Lyndhurst Foundation and Benwood Foundation's Jeff Pfitzer.

BeCaffeinated.

"Launch KIC and the Community Foundation of Greater Chattanooga have invested in us from the start," she said.

All these buckets, all these people.

"Like you’re baking a cake," she said, "and every layer is getting better and better and better."

Blocks away, three affordable housing sites. Another housing development being constructed. Some 70% of folks here are renters, she said. Meanwhile, in nearby St. Elmo, some 70% of folks own their own homes.

"There needs to be an urgency here that says we want economic development and housing," she said.

It starts with Cocoa Cafe.

"That is how we build communities," she said.

So, on the second Friday of every month, she throws a party. Hot chicken, mobile showers, ice cream and music. She opens up the Big H for tours.

"It's going to feel good," Raquetta tells folks. "They're going to feel a good vibe, they're going to feel the love of the community."

The once and future corner of Alton Park Boulevard and West 38th Street, rebuilt with buckets being cast down by hands all across this city.

"They're going to feel the true heart of Alton Park," Raquetta said. "To me, it's the love of God. To feel the love and know you're accepted.

"St. Elmo, East Lake, downtown, south Chattanooga, this is the place you come. You are welcome here, Cocoa Cafe, a community cafe."

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in partnering with us? Email: david@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.

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