by Briar Brakhage
There are a lot of ways to experience DRUS Bar. More nights than not, you can find an opportunity to sing a little karaoke, wearing tulle boas or bedazzled fedoras. On other nights, you might find line dancing or trivia. A whole host of regular barflies gather for various routines at the bar and back patio, swapping stories of their days, weeks, and lives. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you might find yourself on the back patio with the owner, Tami Montgomery-Dickerson, a woman known for her quick smile, tenacious work ethic, and warm, friendly advice, given free of charge to those who find themselves in need.
Long before she owned DRUS Bar, Tami grew up in a small town in Arkansas in a sheltered upbringing. “I didn’t even know what gay was,” she says. “I didn’t know there were options.” Growing up, she didn’t know what all the fuss was about when it came to dating—until she started dating girls in college at Arkansas State. “It was a lightbulb moment,” Tami says.
There can be obvious challenges to being gay in Arkansas in the eighties, but Tami was never afraid of being herself. She approached her parents with an open heart, inviting them to ask whatever questions they had. She cautioned them, though: “I am going to be perfectly honest, so be sure you want the answer to the question before you ask it.” Her father was quick with a comment that he and Tami have a lot in common now, and after a bit of adjustment, Tami’s parents became accepting and loving of the life she leads. These days, her parents love coming to Memphis to visit DRUS and watch drag shows, and their relationship with Tami is better than ever.
Tami found herself in Memphis in the early nineties, having moved here with her first girlfriend. There was more opportunity, but more than that, Memphis was simply more fun. Towns like Jonesboro, Arkansas, at the time simply didn’t have spaces for gay people, unless you wanted the occasional house party. Memphis had things to do and people to meet, so she settled in, working in the travel and entertainment business. Eventually, she left that job and wanted to do something just for fun, so she took a job at a motorcycle dealership. She considered the dealership almost a break from the more stressful work she’d done throughout the nineties—until she “randomly decided to buy a bar.”
She said “randomly” with both amusement and resignation. One evening in 2008, she got home from work and the phone rang. She doesn’t remember who delivered the news, but they told her that a bar called The Jungle was being sold. Tami’s first response was to question why she should care about the sale of a dive bar. Then the next day, someone else called with the same news, and Tami took it as a sign that the universe was trying to tell her something. “You got to listen to the universe when it’s talking to you!” she declares. Within half an hour, Tami was touring the bar. Two days later, she told the owner she wanted to buy it, and two weeks after that, she put in her notice at the motorcycle dealership. On June 23, 2008, she started working on the building that would become DRUS Bar.
Before DRUS, Tami had never considered owning a bar and had no experience in the business. Everyone in her life thought she was crazy. “They still do,” she says with a laugh. “It’s been a wild ride! Seventeen years, and I didn’t really have the money I should have had going into it. It’s been constant projects with the building, and a lot of that’s me.” Reflecting on DRUS’s milestones, it looks impossible on paper, but there’s pride in the way she talks about the work she’s put in. One project at a time, Tami has poured everything back into DRUS to make it better, even when many would have stopped a long time ago.
Tami’s sense of responsibility to the space is palpable. She does it because she feels she makes a difference. Even on days when she wants to throw in the towel and get a different job, she is reminded of her impact when several people in a single weekend come up to her saying, “I wouldn’t have made it through that time in my twenties if you guys hadn’t been here and we hadn’t sat here and had a conversation that night.” That perspective keeps her going. She doesn’t really believe opening DRUS was random. “I am here for a reason,” she says. “I don’t believe that I just randomly decided to open a bar and that’s it. There was a purpose and a reason. Something led me to this point.” The community keeps Tami going, and her gratitude shines more brightly than any weariness.
On the question of whether DRUS is a gay bar, Tami says she has always had the philosophy that all nice people are welcome. She doesn’t care who you’re attracted to or what your gender identity is. “Do you do what you can to make the world better than it would be without you in it? That’s the only thing I care about when I meet another human being,” she says. She acknowledges DRUS has been identified as a gay bar but gently pushes back, pointing out that bars have neither sexuality nor gender identity. “It’s a bar that accepts people for exactly who they are, and that’s really it.”
That said, DRUS does specifically work to offer a stage to the LGBTQ+ community. “We’ve always tried to support not just the LGBT community, but the Memphis community,” Tami says. “I want to leave this city better than I found it. Every day. And I think if we all approached life with that intentionality, we’d be a lot better off.”
That intentionality has been at the core of DRUS right from the beginning. “DRUS” is an acronym, standing for Diversity, Respect, Unity, and Service. “I really wanted to take a service approach—not just service like you go up and order a beer, but to truly serve people and make an impact.” For Tami, that always meant creating a space that could do that, while she stayed in the background. It’s never been her style to be on stage. She likes to do the work and make everything else go right while someone else does the talking.
When asked if she is a voice of the community, Tami squirms, uncomfortable with claiming the spotlight. She’s no activist, but she reaches her community in tangible ways—by creating a space to gather and through powerful one-on-one conversations at the bar and back patio. Tami recalls students coming in, stressed and ready to drop out of college, and either she or someone else at DRUS talking them into sticking it out for just one more semester. “Being mama when mama’s not around,” she calls that role. She has always been someone who listens, she says.
Come by DRUS Bar when you have a chance. It has a fresh coat of paint and a refinished bartop. You can catch a drag or burlesque show, do some line dancing, or sing some karaoke. And if you need an ear to listen, if you need a mama when mama’s not around, keep an eye out for Tami Montgomery-Dickerson in the background, keeping the show going and the lights on, always ready to be of service to the Memphis community.
