10/11/2026
🍅 SUNDAY STORY TIME
The History Hollywood Didn't Tell
Chambless Bros.: Where Juliette Gathered
Part 1
Before tourists filled McCrackin Street, there were little country stores where much of everyday life happened. And in Juliette, one of those places was Chambless Bros. Grocery. My great-granddaddy was Homer Odell Chambless, known as Homer, or H.O. He and two of his brothers, Green, whom everyone called “Soldier Green,” and Hugh, were part of the beginnings of Chambless Bros.
The original store sat near where the newer building stands today. Uncle Green even made the sign that stretched across the front himself: CHAMBLESS BROS. Eventually, the business moved into the building most people today know as The Honeycomb. And my, does that building have some stories to tell!
Inside was a potato bin and a meat freezer right in the middle of the store. Homer cut meat and hoop cheese on the block, and from what I've heard, made a MEAN hamburger! If he offered you a “dope,” he wasn't offering you anything scandalous. He meant a Coke! And a dope only cost a nickel back then. But Chambless Bros. wasn't just somewhere you went for groceries or gas. It was one of the places where Juliette gathered. Between Ed Williams' store, the building that would eventually become the Whistle Stop Café, and Chambless Bros., that little stretch of McCrackin Street was where the locals gathered. Today, people come from all over the world to walk that little strip. Back then, they came for groceries, stopped for gas, stood around talking, and probably told a few things they shouldn't have been telling. It was just everyday life.
Now, if we're going to tell the story of Chambless Bros., I reckon we ought to tell a little about the man behind it, too. From everything I've heard, H.O. lived quite a colorful life! There were poker games, bootlegging, plenty of carrying on, and more than a few adventures along the way. But there was another side to him, too. Somewhere along the way, Homer also found the Lord. And I think that's an important part of his story. People grow, change, and sometimes find their way to something greater than themselves. He was a well-respected man in this community.
There's one story about him that has always stayed with me. A woman had allegedly shot and killed her husband, whom she'd accused of abusing her. Afterward, she wouldn't let anyone in or speak to anyone until she'd talked to Homer. What stands out to me is the trust she placed in him. And apparently, she wasn't the only one. But don't go thinking everything happening around that grocery store was quite so serious. Because, Lord have mercy, some of the stories I've heard!
One of the stories shared with me came from Homer's youngest daughter, Karen. She remembers the excitement when the Goat Man came through Juliette each year. With his goats, long gray beard, and dirty old overalls, he was quite a sight! Adults and children alike loved gathering around to hear his stories. And apparently, some little boys decided he needed some help. Of those boys were my daddy, and his brother Bob! They loaded the Goat Man's dirty, stinking clothes into their little red wagon, one pushing and the other pulling, determined to haul them nearly half a mile up the road to Bowdoin's laundromat. Well, they didn't get very far! Here came Grandmama down the road. She rolled down her window and asked what in the world they were doing. When they explained their good deed, she promptly told them to take those stinking clothes BACK, get in the house, and take a bath 🤣 Meanwhile, Homer was sitting on the store steps laughing so hard he was popping his hands together, something Karen remembers him doing whenever he really got tickled. And just like that, the boys' good deed came to an end! Aunt Karen says her daddy put those boys up to all kinds of things.
There were also trips to Wilbur Hatcher's to play poker. They'd get the b**r in Homer's green Ford Galaxie, which Daddy remembers being about “as long as a hearse.” And Daddy once brought a PIG home in that car! Daddy says that's where they all learned to be entrepreneurs. From H.O. And while Homer was playing poker, others were watching chicken fights. What a time to be alive! I got to step underneath the old store for the first time yesterday, where those poker games once took place. That's where cards were played and youngsters were taught to “cut the pot.” I could almost picture them gathered around a table, laughing and carrying on. For a few minutes, it didn't feel like I was listening to an old family story anymore. I was standing inside it. Thank you, Ms. JoAnne, for letting me see that little piece of history.
When Chambless Bros. closed, the building didn't stop being part of Juliette's story. Far from it! Over the years, it operated as a bar under several names some longtime locals might remember: The Mired Mule. A Hole in the Wall. Miles Landing. And if you think Juliette is entertaining NOW, you should've been around back then! There was carrying on, and apparently a little more excitement than anybody needed. There's a piece of that history still visible today.
A BULLET HOLE.
As the story goes, a local fellow had a little too much to drink, got mad, and decided to take a shot at my Granddaddy Brack! Yes, y'all. MY GRANDDADDY! And that bullet left a mark that's still there all these years later. One generation was buying groceries, and another was down there carrying on and shooting at folks. Juliette was WILD back then! Sometimes history isn't tucked away in a book or hanging on a wall. Sometimes it's a hole in the wall itself. And speaking of A Hole in the Wall, I reckon that name was pretty fitting!
The building eventually became the second home of McCrackin Street Sweets, and today, it's The Honeycomb, where folks come for that good ole honey. From groceries and hoop cheese to hamburgers, honky-tonks, and homemade sweets. Lord, if those walls could talk. Although, judging by that bullet hole, I reckon at least one of them already has.
There's something else from those earlier days that has survived. His old cash register. The very register they used now sits inside my store. Sometimes I look at it and wonder what it witnessed. How many groceries were sold?How many children stood at that counter? And how many stories passed right by it that nobody thought to write down? Back then, it wasn't history. It was just life in Juliette.
Today, the original Chambless Bros. store is gone. The later building has lived several lives of its own. Ed Williams' store became a café recognized around the world. Hollywood came and left. And Juliette changed. But generations later, one of Homer.'s great-granddaughters somehow found herself behind a counter in a little store of her own on McCrackin Street. And sitting inside that store is his old register.
Now it occasionally dings while I tell visitors about the people and stories of the town it once served. I wonder what he'd think about that. About the tourists, the stories I share, and his old register finding its way back to a little store on the same street where he once made his living. I imagine he'd get a good kick out of it. And probably have a few pointers for me, too!
Maybe Daddy was right. Maybe some of us really did learn to be entrepreneurs from him. I just skipped the pig. When I think about his colorful life, the blended family he and Mae had, the meals they shared, the business he built, the people who trusted him, and the faith he eventually found, I'm reminded that a person's story isn't just one chapter. It's all of them. The good, the bad, the funny, and everything in between. These old buildings weren't always places tourists came to photograph. They were somebody's livelihood. Somebody's gathering place. Somebody's life.
I'd love to hear from those who remember Chambless Bros., the bars that followed, the Goat Man, or any of the characters who gathered along McCrackin Street. And if you have photographs, I'd love to see those, too! Every memory shared helps preserve another piece of the Juliette that existed long before Hollywood found it. So many who could tell these stories are already gone, and with every passing year, we lose another voice and another little piece of what this town used to be. That's why I keep telling these stories. Because those ordinary days became the history I'm trying not to lose. They're our people. And that's why we tell their stories.
Until next Sunday,
📍 River Lens & More
Where Juliette's people and stories live on......
