02/17/2026
🗝️ HIDDEN MEMPHIS PART 28: THE WALLS THAT STAYED
You can still see it from Hernando Street.
The limestone walls.
The tower rising over South Memphis.
The parts that refused to fall.
Long before it became known around the world, Clayborn Temple began as something else entirely.
In 1892, the building was constructed as Second Presbyterian Church. Memphis was still rebuilding from the devastating Yellow Fever epidemics of the 1870s. The city had lost its charter, its population, and thousands of lives. By the 1890s, leaders were trying to restore confidence and stability.
This church rose during that era of recovery.
Built in the Romanesque Revival style, it featured thick limestone walls, rounded arches, and a prominent bell tower. It was designed to feel permanent in a city that had recently faced collapse.
At the time, it served a white Presbyterian congregation in what was then a developing residential corridor south of downtown. As the decades passed, Memphis grew and shifted. Neighborhood patterns changed. Congregations relocated.
In 1949, the building was purchased by an African Methodist Episcopal congregation and became Clayborn Temple A.M.E. Church.
That transition reflected the changing face of the neighborhood. The walls did not move. The city around them did.
The African Methodist Episcopal Church was founded in 1816 as the first independent Protestant denomination established by African Americans in the United States. It was created in response to discrimination within Methodist congregations and built on the principle of dignity and self determination.
By the mid twentieth century, Clayborn Temple was more than a place of worship. It was a community anchor in South Memphis. Meetings were held there. Educational programs operated there. Civic conversations happened inside those walls.
So when sanitation workers gathered there in 1968, they were stepping into a building that already carried decades of resilience.
Clayborn Temple became a headquarters for organizing during the sanitation workers’ strike. The now iconic “I AM A MAN” posters were stored and distributed from there. Marchers assembled there before walking into history.
The building did not create the movement.
But it sheltered it.
In April 2025, a devastating fire struck the historic structure during ongoing restoration efforts. Significant portions were damaged.
And yet portions still stand.
Stone laid in 1892 during Memphis’ recovery from Yellow Fever remains visible today. Walls that witnessed segregation, civil rights organizing, neighborhood decline, and renewal are still there.
Clayborn Temple’s story is not simply about division. It is about evolution.
A building constructed in one chapter of Memphis history became central in another. The same structure has served different congregations, different communities, and different generations.
It has stood through epidemic, social upheaval, and fire.
And now, once again, there are efforts to rebuild.
Because Clayborn Temple has never just been about what happened inside it.
It has always reflected the city around it.
Memphis has rebuilt before.
After disease.
After flood.
After struggle.
The walls that remain on Hernando Street are not just remnants.
They are reminders.
This city has changed.
This city has grown.
This city has faced hard truths.
And still it stands.
That’s Hidden Memphis, Part 28.