Honest Coffee Roasters

When I walked into Honest Coffee Roasters this morning, I could see that the renovations are almost complete.  Like so much else at the Factory in Franklin, near my office, HCR has undergone a makeover, one that will triple its previous size, increase seating, add an espresso machine, and add a kitchen that will allow food - real food - to be served for the first time.

I've been coming here for so long, close to a decade, I guess.  HCR has long been an oasis of sorts for me. It's been a place where I come to drink a good cup of coffee and to be alone for a few minutes of peace and solitude.  In the early days, I often thought, and wrote in this space, about my mom as she dealt with Alzheimer's disease.  I processed my thoughts and my sadness over her plight in life as I sipped my coffee.  It was nice to see a friendly face every morning - Anthony Foti comes to mind - I miss our brief conversations about music or life.  

Coffee shops are, by their very nature, transient places in the sense that regulars come and go (Dennis) and baristas likewise come and go.  No one, patrons or employees, stays at a coffee shop forever or for longer that a year or two.  Sometimes it seems to me that my life stays the same while everything changes around it.  

This is the third, or fourth, renovation that HCR has undertaken in this location.  Originally, at least when I started having coffee here, it was a small coffee shop, probably 15% - 20% of its new size.  The seating was minimal and the space was dominated by a large, slightly slanted drafting table.  The seats at the drafting table were prime real estate, especially in the mornings.

After the second renovation that I can remember, when HCR doubled in size, there was a conference room table in the back of the new part of the coffee shop, nestled behind a bookcase.  Several times, I met staff from the office there or, occasionally clients.  Other times, I spread out at the table and worked on motions or briefs for an hour or two.  

That, of course, was pre-pandemic.  So much of life, it seems, is divided into two parts.  Pre-pandemic and post-pandemic.  When the pandemic arrived, I started bringing my own coffee cup - a practice I continue to this day - and after ordering, I walked up to the front of the Factory and sat on one of the four couches there, so I could socially distance from others.  That habit has continued for the most part, even as the Factory has been undergoing a complete makeover after its sale a couple of years ago, although this morning I am sitting in one of the newly arrived chairs in the new section of the shop.

The baristas know me as an old head.  A regular.  I tip them well and they're friendly to me.  I realize there's a correlation there but I tend to treat them kindly and I would like to think they reciprocate by treating me the same way.  

Much like what happens when I am on Belmont U.'s campus, where I spent so much time with the boys when they were younger, I see ghosts at HCR when I sit here to drink my coffee in the morning or, occasionally, in the afternoon.  Baristas from the past who have come and gone, a few of whom I keep up with on Instagram.  Some have moved away or changed careers (Jason, Nick) while others have started coffee shops (Chase at Wolf & Scout in Columbia) on their own or gone to work at other coffee shops (Brad).  

I think HCR - at least this location of HCR - will always be special to me because of the amount of time I have spent here.  Sure, bigger is not always better and I miss the early days, when it felt like I had discovery a coffee shop that no one else new about.  With locations in Huntsville, AL and the Factory in Franklin only, it was a relatively small operation.  Now, things are different, with locations in West Nashville, Berry Farm, and downtown on Lea Avenue.  

Honest Coffee Roasters changes.  The Factory changes.  My boys grow older and I grow older, too (57 years old two days ago).  That's the way of things.