The Deep Ellum neighborhood has been home to a dizzying number of music performance venues over the past century. In the early days of Ellum's renaissance, many an aspiring entrepreneur opted to roll the dice on a new venue. Some, like Charlie Gilder, were able to successfully circumnavigate the sea of red tape put forth by the City Council and obtain permits and liquor licenses; other, perhaps more bullish, entrepreneurs chose to go a different way, with all ages clubs and "unofficial" liquor on tap. Some of the resultant venues, such as the Prophet Bar and Theatre Gallery, achieved fairly long term success and drew a regular contingent of music fans and clubgoers, but Deep Ellum's history is also full of short-lived, fly by night venues that had their brief moments in the sun before flaming out and disappearing completely. And perhaps the most infamous of these long gone, also-ran hotspots was a hole in the wall off Commerce Street, a one time weighing scale and butcher equipment outlet turned punk club known as the Honest Place.
The Honest Place, to the extent that it is discussed at all, is mostly recalled as the site of an infamous shooting involving the Confederate Hammerskins. By the late 1980s, the skinhead presence in Deep Ellum had grown from an annoying nuisance to a burgeoning threat, with members routinely visiting local punk clubs with the intent to harass or rough up patrons. Whether via an untoward word or look, aggressive posturing or bullying, or via overt threats, these roughnecks began to make themselves known to an ever greater extent, which in the worst instances could escalate to potential violence. On at least one occasion, an onstage gesture involving the unappreciative thrusting of a microphone stand toward a group of skinheads by a member of the Buck Pets from the Honest Place stage led to owner Greg Winslow personally escorting the band out of the club with a rifle after their set. As one would expect for persons of their mindset, these "associations" of bigots typically wore their opinions (and altercations) on their sleeves as a badge of honor.
On July 8, 1988, when noted anti-racist punk band the U.K. Subs were booked to play the Honest Place, word got out of the Hammerskins' plans to crash the show. The Subs, having caught wind of this, opted to abandon the gig to avoid an inevitable confrontation, but Winslow pushed ahead with opening the club for the night despite the absence of the planned headliner. When the Hammerskins made their appearance, an altercation ensued between their members and a couple of non-affiliated, "independent" skinheads, things came to a head, and shots ended up being fired. Accounts of exactly what happened vary - some suggest Winslow shot one of the skinheads as they were retreating, some suggest he fired "into" their van, some say he fired "at" their van. Winslow himself says he fired warning shots. What is for certain is that the Hammerskins ended up on the business end of Winslow's rifle, and seventeen year old Amy Mecum ended up whisked away to Baylor University Medical Center by her compatriots. Three were eventually arrested. Winslow himself also ended up in police custody, later released with an initial charge of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, a charge which was ultimately dropped. The Honest Place closed for good not long afterward.
So what of the club itself? Information on the Honest Place as an actual music venue is hard to come by, as its tenure in Deep Ellum was singularly short. Fortunately, there are a few historical records to be found with enough digging, and there remain a handful of people from whom a few particulars can be gleaned. The club occupied a spot toward the eastern end of Deep Ellum, between Walton and Hall Streets and about two blocks away from the Theatre Gallery. During its brief existence, it showcased bands large and small, out-of-town and local, signed and unsigned. It was an all ages club that provided a stage for homegrown talent including such acts as Children of the Hydra's Teeth, Process Revealed, Scum of the Earth, and Talon. It also played host to a few more well-known and recognized acts who came through town, acts such as Gang Green and the Goo Goo Dolls. D.R.I and Kreator came through on their 4 of a Kind tour. Fugazi stopped in for a one off set during their first tour, when they were still cutting their teeth in small local venues. And, of course, the Honest Place was slated to feature the U.K. Subs on that ill-fated night in July. The Honest Place served as the filming site for a number of live music showcases aired on Dallas Music Videos, a homegrown cable access show geared toward promoting DFW punk and metal talent. One of these showcases was a short mini-doc entitled "The Spirit of Thrashers," which aired in August 1988 and featured interview and performance footage from Agony Column, Talon, and Morbid Scream. Another clip from the same episode featured performance footage of the song "Mother Suicide" performed by the Noyse Fludd. And Metal Blade Records recording artists Tyrranicide featured in an interview wherein they explored their political and lyrical influences while backstage. It all seemed like quite the feather in the cap of a venue that had opened its doors mere months earlier.
Despite its apparent prestige and seemingly rapid rise, the Honest Place seems to have been, by all accounts, a thoroughly disreputable establishment. Various epithets such as "shithole" and "the Ho-Nest Place" surface quite often in the accounts of people who remember it, and it doesn't seem that anyone ever felt compelled to make going to the club a habit. "I think I was only there that one night," recalled local D.J. Allison Gordon, who attended the show played by her then-boyfriend James Love's band, Children of the Hydras Teeth. "Our car got towed because we parked in a lot with a teeny tiny no parking sign [that] was like 50 feet up on a wall in the dark." Nervebreakers guitarist Barry Kooda added, "I don't remember much... except it had sheet rock walls that were wired to the upper rafters to keep them from swaying and the owner, Greg, shot some girl out front of the place." But while recollections of the venue's physical characteristics may be dim, memories of its reputation remain crystal clear. "The Ho-Nest? No, I wouldn't have nothing to do with that," Bar of Soap co-founder Richard Bean told documentary filmmaker Justin Powers in an interview. The Honest Place was a dive, its walls splattered with graffiti and the owners of the nearby parking lot notorious for their alleged towing scams. On the night that Children of the Hydras Teeth played, they didn't even get paid, according to Ms. Gordon.
In the end, Greg Winslow's Commerce Street venture would not be long for this world. Dallas County tax records show the business filing being recorded on March 17, 1988. By the end of August, the doors were already closed and the club shuttered for good. Winslow, along with his investors, would open up shop on the west side of Dallas instead, establishing Slipped Disc and a couple of other more notable venues. Four people had been arrested in connection with the altercations on July 8th, but none would face charges as a direct result of the shooting and none would die. The one true casualty of that incident may very well have been the Honest Place itself, apparently driven into the ground either through notoriety or possibly insolvency due to diminished business and a tattered reputation. A full roster of acts to have played the H.P. seems lost to history, but according to my research these included Agony Column, Children of the Hydra's Teeth, The Cookin' Ones, D.R.I., Fang, Fearless Iranians from Hell, Fugazi, Gang Green, The Goo Goo Dolls, Holy Terror, Insecticide, Kreator, Last Rites, Morbid Scream, No Excuse, The Noyse Fludd, Process Revealed, The Raging Woodies, Scum of the Earth, Talon, Tyrranicide, and Why Am I. Any void in the scene that the Honest Place's closing may have created was very quickly filled by other, more reputable Ellum venues such as Tommy's Heads Up Saloon (later to become Deep Ellum Live), the Theatre Gallery, and Club Clearview. As for the building itself at 3014 Commerce Street, it would remain unoccupied for a while, eventually to be repurposed as a hair salon and currently (as of this writing) once again sitting vacant and abandoned. A fitting epilogue, indeed.