I have been a lifelong resident of the fair city of Murfreesboro and I know it pretty intimately. But every so often I find something that has existed for a long time but is new to me—for example, The Shoe Fixer at 1004 Memorial Blvd.

This small business is nestled in the strip mall beside O’Charley’s and across from Jones Car Wash. Now, I had seen it a blue million times and was fully aware that it was there, but up until just recently, I had never been in need of their services. As it happens, I sometimes get attached to my old shoes and hate to part ways with them. I wasn’t like that in my youth, and I have always been rough on shoes: wear ’em out, get another pair. As I have matured, comfortable shoes have exponentially increased in importance to this intrepid writer. So, after discovering a pair of old work boots in the back of the closet, wiping away the closet dust and taking a trip down memory lane, I went to unceremoniously dispose of these longtime faithful foot companions; I just couldn’t do it. For too many years they had lovingly protected my feet from mud, the cold, the pyramids that my 160-pound Tibetan Mastiff left in the back yard for me to step in and any other assault which Mother Nature might launch upon old lefty and righty. So, whilst pondering my predicament, it dawned upon me to take them to The Shoe Fixer, and so I did.

Upon entering The Shoe Fixer, I was immediately impressed by the lack of pretense about the place. It reminded me of the businesses that my parents and grandparents would have frequented. There were no slick cardboard advertisements, various televisions on different channels or other gadgets to get in the way of human interaction. And although I had never been in a shoe repair shop before, I knew immediately that the smell of leather mixed with shoe polish was exactly how this business should smell. So, I took in the ambiance, smiled to myself and approached the counter, where I was met by a smiling Misty Batey. Misty seemed to know almost instantly that I needed surgery on a couple of old friends, and when I asked if there was anything that could be done for my faithful foot companions she responded with the comforting tones of a Southern mother comforting a sick child. I don’t remember her exact words, but they can be paraphrased to something like “Yes, honey, I’m sure we can fix it.” She made me feel like a relieved kid who just heard that his beloved broken toy could be fixed.

The Shoe Fixers: Roger, Matt, Misty and Willie

As Misty rambled off to the back to get a diagnosis on my ailing shoes, I took in the rest of the place. Now, this is a small place with just a counter, several machines behind said counter (and I can’t begin to tell you what their purpose was), several chairs and a big glass front. And then, as I glanced about, I made the big discovery. In my singular focus to get proper care for my old shoes, I had not noticed that there was a shoeshine chair in this place! Not only was there a shoeshine chair, but there was a guy there who shined shoes! This may be small potatoes to you, but this was big news to me. Since I was a kid, I remember watching old movies from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s where you would see those magnificent shoeshine stands in train stations or on street corners in big cities. They always seemed so cool to pre-adolescent eyes. To be important enough to sit and get my shoes shined before a big meeting or catching a train for parts unknown smacked of adventures a small-town kid would never know. In those days, due to my rough treatment of all shoes (other than the sacred Sunday shoes, which I hated to wear because they were so uncomfortable) I was mostly relegated to Converse high tops, five bucks a pair at Kent’s Department Store in those days. So, finally seeing a shoeshine throne in my hometown, within my reach, put me in a nostalgic mood for a shiny pair of shoes.

“I never really counted how many customers I have; long as I am busy, I am happy. I just take an interest in what I’m doing and if the customer is happy, so am I.”
—Mr. Willie Harris

After inquiring the price for this extravagance, which was a very affordable six bucks, I gleefully hopped up into this everyday man’s throne and felt like I was a king. Being the inquisitive sort, I began asking questions about the shoe biz. Mr. Willie Harris is the man who owns and operates the shoeshine chair. He is instantly likable, a friendly man with a gentle nature. You get the feeling that Willie has never had any trouble making friends. So naturally I wanted to know how Willie got into the shoeshine game, and he regaled me with his story.

“I’m from Chicago, moved to Murfreesboro in 1978 to work at the hospital. But that didn’t work out, so I went back to Chicago in 1982. In 1990 my wife and I came back, because our kids were here. I worked as a materials handler at Hewlett-Packard for years. I retired from there after a knee injury and worked for Dollar General for a while. I just walked into The Shoe Fixer one day and thought, this would be a good opportunity to work at something that does not have a limited income. So I asked, ‘Hey, can I shine shoes here?’ They said Okay. I took the job and it bloomed from there. I was 72 then, 74 now. I got the chair from a guy at a nail salon who had it custom-made. But he couldn’t find anyone to shine shoes, so he asked me if I wanted to buy it, so I did.”

I asked Willie to explain shoe shining to me.

“The art of a shoe shine starts with noticing the difference in the leather. I learned the difference from Matthew Oliver and Roger Burnett, who own The Shoe Fixer. You have to put down a base polish and then buff it out. Different leathers require different kinds of polish. There are paste polishes and cream polishes; a boot requires paste. If it is scuffed or does not have a brilliant shine, I put a liquid polish on first, then paste and then buff it,” Willie said.

“How exactly would you spit-shine a shoe?” I asked.

Willie responded, “A spit shine was considered water, wax polish and patience. That shine was just for the toe, not the rest of the shoe. A spit shine would look like a patent leather shoe. So the term spit shine just means a really shiny shoe.”

The corkboard beside Willie’s chair is covered with customers’ business cards. Willie told me that they all come back regularly. I asked him how many customers he had.

“I never really counted how many customers I have; long as I am busy, I am happy. I just take an interest in what I’m doing and if the customer is happy, so am I.”

As Matt worked away in the back, I asked Roger if they were the only shoe shop in town and he responded, “Yes, we are the only shoe shop in town. I Googled it once, and it showed only two shoe repair shops, one here and one in Peru.”

I asked if there was a Peru, Tennessee, or was he referring to Peru, Indiana?

“No, Peru, South America.”

Now, I don’t think we can say for certain that there isn’t a shoe repair business between here and South America, but it does illustrate the fact that this is a rare business. It’s a throwaway world we live in. Like I said earlier, I almost threw my faithful old shoes away. But we haven’t reached the point where everything is thrown away. If we had, The Shoe Fixer wouldn’t be here. Roger explained to me that The Shoe Fixer has been in business for 20 years.

Matt comes out of the back area, where he had been working on a large piece of canvas, and adds to our conversation.

“We do more than shoes; we repair horse blankets, saddles, gun and knife holsters, anything leather or canvas. We also put patches on leather,” Matt said as he holds up a biker jacket covered in patches from all the places this particular customer has visited. Since he is a rider himself, Matt enjoys doing the patches.

Even before they said it, you could tell that this was a family environment.

“We all have the same philosophy around here—we all love each other,” Misty said. Willie said it this way, “In this shop, these people are more like family, real close friends.”

So if you have an old pair of comfortable shoes that have seen better days or any leather or canvas that needs some TLC, go by and see Matt, Roger, Misty and Willie. While being bombarded on a daily basis with all the new growth in Murfreesboro, it’s nice to find a place like The Shoe Fixer, to remind you where we came from.