In Memoriam 2024: Business

Bill Freeman

Businessman, loyal friend, political insider, owner of the Nashville Scene

He was genuine. He was real. He was and will always be Nashville.

Bill Freeman was co-founder of wide-reaching real estate company Freeman Webb, a Democratic megadonor, a onetime candidate for Nashville mayor and owner of FW Publishing, which includes the Nashville Scene. While much of the city’s evolution has been based on the desires of entertainment, health care management or other perceived highfalutin industries, Bill didn’t care too much for those. Instead, he made sure those sectors’ workers had access to housing and an opportunity to move up the socioeconomic ladder.

Some folks spend their spare time out on fairways. Bill was more at home at the fairgrounds. He found joy spending time with those who had grease on their hands, rather than social climbers. When you’re having a bad day, week or month, nothing beats the care and comfort of a loyal friend who won’t run away when the chips are stacked against you. You could always count on Bill Freeman, a loyal friend to many, to be there for you. He never missed a chance to get an update on how you and your family were doing, whether during lunch, in a meeting or over text. He always got an update on you and your family prior to any discussion of anything else, and it was genuine.

At the conclusion of being in Bill’s company, you always walked away feeling better about yourself. And you left with the belief that accomplishing the task at hand was within your reach. This was his power.

That is Bill Freeman, a loyal friend. —Jamie Hollin 

Randy Rayburn

Innovator, connector, ultimate yes man

Randy Rayburn was the ultimate yes man. Can you help us with this project? Yes. Can you donate to this cause? Yes. Can I get a table for six in the private room and sneak my guests in through the kitchen? Yes. Can you give this lost kid a second chance? Yes. 

One of the many times I wrote about him, I said that in his career, “Randy Rayburn has fired, hired or fed everybody in Nashville.” He cherished the description. That was back in the early ’90s — when Nashville was still a big small town — in a story about Sunset Grill, the restaurant he opened in 1990. The impact Sunset had on the dining scene and the entire community cannot be overstated. It introduced California cuisine, Paul Harmon’s art, late-night dining, endless wine lists and elevated nachos. It was the scene to see and be seen, the place where countless clients were wooed, introductions made, alliances brokered, deals struck. Had a giant sinkhole suddenly swallowed Sunset’s dining room, Metro, Capitol Hill, downtown business and Music Row would have come to halt. 

Like every successful independent restaurateur, Rayburn — whose path to Sunset included stints at the Opryland Hotel, F. Scott’s and Third Coast — was always, without fail, in the house. He greeted people as they arrived, touched every table, remembered every name. He knew every secret, and most importantly, he kept them. 

He said yes over and over and over again. That included purchasing the 10-year-old Midtown Cafe from a colleague in 1997. When Sunset closed in 2015, he moved his base of operations there, seamlessly ushering in the power-breakfast-and-business-lunch crowd, then slipping out to spend evenings with his beloved sons Duke and Dean. He came to fatherhood late in life, and as with everything else he did, he embraced it fully, often saying he just wished he had done it sooner. 

Rayburn understood that possibility and achievement are woven with hospitality and generosity. For all who remember Nashville as a big small town, it is inconceivable that Randy Rayburn will not be at a host stand, a board table or elbow-deep in the mix. Those today drawn to Nashville — a big small city with unlimited aspirations — have him to thank for opening the door and saying, “Welcome, come in, join us at the table.” —Kay West 

Jerry Julian Baxter

Trendsetter, philanthropist, restaurateur

After graduating from David Lipscomb Academy and attending David Lipscomb College, Jerry Baxter moved to Los Angeles to work in banking. Thankfully for Nashville’s restaurant industry, he came to his senses and went into hospitality. Anyone who had the pleasure of being greeted, seated or served by him would find it impossible to imagine him doing anything else.

After a stint in Aspen — his restaurant management job supported his ski habit — he returned to Nashville in 1971 to open Brass Scales with Houston Thomas and Bill Hale. That was the start of a career that impacted Nashville’s dining profile for decades, introducing countless cosmopolitan concepts to what was then a conventional small Southern town known for its meat-and-threes and rife with fern bars. Pioneering places on his résumé include Julian’s — his namesake, Nashville’s first Mobile 4-Star restaurant — Sperry’s, Third Coast, Sunset Grill and Midtown Cafe. It didn’t hurt his curb appeal that Jerry was one of those men who grew better looking with age; his resemblance to Tony Bennett was legendary.

Jerry’s most enduring friendships were with colleagues Randy Rayburn, Dano Goosetree and Ernie Paquette (whom he knew through Paquette’s wife, chef Deb Paquette); the four shared a Jan. 24 birthday and celebrated it together every year. Goosetree preceded him in death; Rayburn passed away six months after Baxter.

When Jerry retired, he devoted himself to the love of his life, his wife Mitzi Bishop, and to working on the two annual fundraisers he founded — the 35-year-old Harvest Moon Ball for Second Harvest Food Bank, and Our Kids Soup Sunday, which marked its 32nd year in March. —Kay West

Matthew Carney

Restaurateur, businessman, fighter

In a tragic turn of events, Matthew Carney, the beloved owner of Smokin’ Thighs, passed away on July 4 after lingering in a coma for two weeks. Carney, known for his unique culinary vision, was the victim of a hit-and-run incident after confronting a thief attempting to steal tools from his truck. 

It’s not a surprise that Carney fought for his property. He was always stubborn and fierce about his beliefs, way back to when he first started Smokin’ Thighs as a food truck. In a town filled with great fried chicken options, Carney wouldn’t even allow a fryer in his kitchen, preferring smoked chicken and slaw to crispy wings and fries. When the smashburger craze took off,  Carney leaned into chicken burgers instead, and he focused on moonshine over whiskey for his bar menu.

He did these things not only to stand out in the crowded restaurant environment, but also because he truly believed they were superior. Judging by the outpouring of love and support for his family and his business after his passing, many people thought highly of Carney too. —Chris Chamberlain

David Andrews

Businessman, family man, storyteller

When David Andrews died this year, a piece of Nashville’s gracious charm left with him. From a multigenerational Nashvillian family, David cherished his family members — both immediate and extended — and the multitude of friends he met along the way. His bright smile and gentle manners instantly put everyone at ease, and his thoughtful gestures for friends and strangers endeared him to many.

David grew up in the family business. Transformed by his mother Evalina, McClures was one of the most respected independent department stores in the United States. Well-known and loved by established Nashvillians, the store was not only known for luxury clothing, but also for memorable moments like its piano player and Santa visits during Christmas and its haunted house during Halloween.

After closing McClures, David pivoted his career but continued to serve others by becoming a beloved concierge at The Hermitage Hotel. While there, David became a trusted source of local information, helping guests understand the history of the city. David often curated driving tours of points of interest like Belle Meade Boulevard and East Nashville’s Little Hollywood neighborhood. He regaled visitors and Hermitage Hotel staff alike with tales from Nashville’s past, creating an almost fireside chat of tales and folklore. —Janet Kurtz

Don Else

“Beer guy,” publisher

Don Else lived in Nashville for only 13 years after spending most of his life in Michigan, but he greatly impacted the local craft beer community during his time here. A longtime aficionado of fine brews, Don was a stalwart at local beer festivals and bars, always ready to share a pitcher and some knowledge, or to lead the celebration when a Flying Saucer patron completed the quest to drink 200 different beers and earn their UFO Club saucer on the ceiling.

More than just a fan, Don took positions in the industry installing and maintaining draft beer lines for bars and managing the retail programs at Frugal MacDoogal and Colonial Wine & Spirits. He also wrote stories about beer and breweries for several local publications and websites, as well as co-founding Tennessee Craft Beer magazine. A frequent and enthusiastic participant in holiday “Santa Rampages,” Else was always ready to don his slightly ragged furry red suit and hat. He’ll be remembered as the kind of guy who, when you saw him out and about, you always knew a good time wouldn’t be far behind. —Chris Chamberlain

Bill Earthman III

Attorney, golfer, community member

Bill Earthman was an accomplished attorney and a friendly face who “brought his A game to every conversation” — whether it took place in Nashville’s law offices or on its golf courses. He began his legal career at Dearborn & Ewing in 1977 and retired as a partner at Bradley Arant Boult Cummings LLP, a firm that called him a “legendary lawyer and valued member of our firm.” 

Earthman fell in love with golf at a young age, and though he roamed fairways around the world through trips with friends, the grasses of Belle Meade Country Club were the ones he knew best. He served as a board member there and spent 40 years perfecting his swing (and cracking jokes) at the club’s driving range. He spent just as long as a member of West End United Methodist Church, where he also served as a board member. Friends and contacts will miss his famous group emails, where he’d often start conversations on topics that were humorous, interesting or both — at around 4 a.m. His was a life filled with interesting conversations and meetings with fascinating individuals, but he especially cherished time spent with his wife Sandra and his children Will and Kara. —Cole Villena

Joey Fecci

Chef, runner, friend

Chef Joey Fecci was a rising star in the culinary world with a career that included stints in three Michelin-starred kitchens in New York City and Chicago. On a trip to Nashville to get out of town while a gig was on hold due to the pandemic, Fecci went for a run downtown. As he jogged through SoBro, he was surprised to run into two former co-workers from Chicago doing what sous chefs do — smoking in front of a building. He inquired why they were in town. It turned out they were helping renowned chef Tony Mantuano open Yolan in The Joseph, and they suggested that Fecci should join the team. Fecci previously worked every station on the line at Mantuano’s Chicago restaurant Spiaggia, so it was a quick interview.

Fecci quickly rose to the position of chef de cuisine at Yolan, where he led the kitchen with distinction. Fecci left Yolan early in 2024 with dreams of opening his own Italian restaurant. Tragically, he passed away on another run, this time in Shelby Park while participating in the Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon. He was just 26 years old. A few weeks after Fecci’s death, a group of his friends gathered at the spot where he fell and finished the race for him as a tribute. —Chris Chamberlain

Chris Lowry

Visionary, risk-taker, “Auntie Christmas”

In 2003, two young aspiring restaurateurs (Chris Lowry and Jay Luther) and two visionary young developers (Scott Chambers and Andrée LeQuire) took a chance on each other and the corner of Fifth Avenue North and Madison Street. That October, Lowry and Luther opened Germantown Café in Chambers and LeQuire’s building, and the rediscovery and resurrection of the historic Germantown neighborhood began.

Lowry ran front-of-house, deftly choreographing the lunchtime corporate, courthouse and Capitol crowds, having a cocktail with happy hour regulars, greeting dinner guests by name, unrattled — despite his deep love for divas — whenever Dolly Parton showed up. Luther, far more reserved, stayed in the kitchen, creating signature dishes that are still on the menu 20 years later.

Away from his restaurant, Lowry was a wryly erudite late-night presence in East Nashville’s Five Points, pinballing from 3 Crow Bar to Red Door East and points between. His network of friends was vast, though centered in the hospitality industry. When Luther died in 2012 in a tragic accident in the partners’ East Nashville restaurant, Lowry sought respite in the sky-blue yonder and fulfilled a long-held dream to be a flight attendant — or as he described it, “sky waitress.” He sold Germantown Café and moved to Las Vegas, but kept clothes, pajamas, robe and slippers in a closet of “his” bedroom in his closest friend Kim Totzke’s Nashville house for his frequent visits. Totzke had his room ready for his planned trip to Nashville the last weekend of August to attend the celebration of life for fellow restaurateur Randy Rayburn; Lowry suffered a fatal accident just days before his flight.

A month later, dozens of friends gathered at Germantown Café to offer one last toast to their son, partner, friend, boss, colleague and — as Totzke’s two small grandchildren knew him — Auntie Christmas. —Kay West

Joseph Sherman Russell

Business owner, family man, old-school Nashvillian

Countless Nashville residents met Sherman Russell as the owner of Russell’s Glass and Mirror, a business he owned and operated in the city until 1999. Those folks might remember a colorful Nashville native who did solid work in their homes; on a memorial page created by the family, at least one person noted that the mirrors he installed way back in 1987 were still holding strong.

But a family obituary notes that he spent the quarter-century following his retirement “left free to run the streets of West Nashville, spend time in Florida, BBQ, road trip with friends, aggravate his wife & kids, and basically live his best life with his loved ones.” He was described as a cantankerous old-school Nashvillian whose infectious personality brought him many nicknames — “Sherm-Dogg” being a favorite — and a wide circle of friends. His family notes that he “skid into heaven saying, ‘That was one heck of a ride!’” and that he is finally reunited with his beloved wife, Debbie, “whose peace and quiet he just brought to a halt.” —Cole Villena

Linda Alkasem

Business partner, mother, traveler

While Hendersonville’s culinary scene has diversified, it remains largely dominated by chain restaurants. Amid this landscape, Cafe Rakka has stood out for more than 15 years. Founded by chef Riyad Alkasem, the restaurant offers authentic Syrian cuisine, a tradition passed down through five generations of his family.

The heart and soul of Cafe Rakka was Linda Alkasem, Rakka’s wife, who ran front-of-house. Her charm even captivated Guy Fieri during a Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives filming, propelling Cafe Rakka to national recognition.

A former flight attendant with a passion for travel, Linda had a warm and inviting presence — she was the light that made the restaurant a beloved local gathering spot. Tragically, that light went out in April when Linda was killed, along with her mother and sister, in a head-on collision in Alabama while driving back from a Florida vacation. The Florida trip was intended to be the first in a planned series of “girls’ trips,” but alas it was not to be. Her loss is deeply felt by the restaurant community and beyond. —Chris Chamberlain

Dr. Tyler Edward Riggins

Veterinarian, fierce advocate for animals

One of the best friends and fiercest advocates Tennessee walking horses ever had was large-animal veterinarian Tyler Riggins. In 1995, Riggins was a key witness in a U.S. Court of Appeals case that defended the USDA’s guidelines preventing the Tennessee walking horse from competing if the animal showed signs of “soreness.” In 2003, he served as an expert witness in the first animal-cruelty case to test state laws charging aggravated cases as felonies.

Though he had a private practice in Nashville and Goodlettsville, in his 40 years as a USDA veterinarian, Riggins was instrumental in efforts to eradicate brucellosis and other diseases affecting large animals, was the lead inspector over zoos in Nashville, Memphis and Chattanooga, and inspected hospitals in the state that used animals as part of their research and testing. He and his wife of 61 years, Libby, shared a love of country living and a sense of humor; they named their property in Adams the Lonesome Duck Farm, for a mate-less mallard duck that lived on the small pond their cabin overlooked. —Kay West