Moonbow Tipple has Reopened!
Moonbow Tipple, our coffee shop on Main Street in downtown Harlan, Kentucky, opened on December 30, 2019, with much enthusiasm. Who knew then what a year was ahead of us? After a terrific first couple of months, we closed on April 11, 2020, as a direct result of the Coronavirus pandemic. And now, almost 5 months later, we have finally reopened our doors. Not only that, but we have expanded our kitchen so that we can now offer a variety of healthy breakfast and lunch options, along with the regular coffee drinks and sweets that got us started.
Some of you are already deeply familiar with Harlan, Kentucky. For those who aren’t, it is a town of 1,400 people in remote part of the Appalachian Mountains. Coal mining is still a major employer in Harlan County, but the number of jobs have dropped precipitously in the past decades. What happens to a town that is a 90 minute drive to the nearest interstate on-ramp, when a totally new economy is needed to survive? The United States, pre-Covid, had experienced 10 years of economic growth, and the poverty rate had fallen to around 11%. Meanwhile, in Harlan County, the poverty rate had increased to over 33% in the same time period, with a median income around $24,000 (compared to a U.S. median income of $64,324.) We wanted to be part of revitalizing the downtown, which is truly a remarkable place. I have never been to a setting more lovely than Harlan, with the historic buildings set against majestic mountains. At the same time, a majority of the buildings in the downtown sit empty, and it is far too common to see awnings in tatters and trees growing from roofs. Those vacant downtown buildings represent a loss of opportunity, and we wanted to provide career-worthy jobs that paid a living wage, as well as help make Harlan a great place to live. Without some amenities, like a coffee shop, it is hard to recruit and retain businesses and important professionals, like doctors and teachers. That was the seed of Moonbow Tipple, but you can read more about how we found the historic Buttermore building, renovated it, and then got the coffee equipment to start it up as two working parents.
Moonbow Tipple had an incredible reception with its opening, before the Coronavirus closed businesses and had folks at home. It is almost difficult to remember what those early months of the pandemic were like, when all across the country there were widespread closures. There was so much uncertainty, and so much fear. We were deemed an “essential business” and allowed to operate, but it felt terrible to put our employees at risk when it was so unclear how deadly the virus was, and who was most at risk. The rules around unemployment changed, and the same staff who once did not qualify became eligible for Unemployment, plus the bonus from Federal Pandemic Unemployment Assistance (FPUA). We voluntarily laid everyone off because it was a better for our employees and their well-being. We made the decision to stay closed until it made sense—for everyone, but most especially our fantastic staff—for us to be open again.
Decisions like these, when you lay them out, seem so simple. But small business owners know all the agony and emotions that come between the words “open” and “closed.” This little coffee shop in Harlan had been a long dream, and it came together in some of the most unbelievable ways. Opening represented months of sacrifice and hard work, and not just for us but for our children as well. We have shared on here how we feel called to have the coffee shop in Harlan. I always say that it may not be a true calling if it is easy, and that proved to be very true with the closing of Moonbow Tipple.
To be honest, April was a very dark month. Overall, we were surrounded by love and support over our decision, and most especially from the people of Harlan themselves. But there was a small contingent of people who showed up to revel in this closure, and it really stung. There were a few folks out there who muttered that we were making money off of Eastern Kentucky, and I think this was the hardest for me, especially because many of those folks were outsiders who found themselves in the region ostensibly to “help.” The basis of their criticism was that I had gone to Yale and Harvard, and so Moonbow Tipple represented “Ivy League gentrification” and profiteering. I grew up in Eastern Kentucky, qualified for free lunch every year, and made it to Yale where I promptly found myself woefully unprepared and failed out my freshman year. I wrote my college senior thesis and my dissertation from research conducted in Harlan County over almost a decade. From the outset, I had been determined to use my education as a tool to improve my homeland, and it was the center piece of papers I wrote for courses and was the lens through which I analyzed information. I have always been transparent about Moonbow Tipple, and a typical day we made about $200 in revenue. Split that between your cost of goods, building expenses, and wages, and clearly nobody makes any profit off of it. In fact, both my husband and I work full-time jobs and joke that the business is our third, most expensive child. Neither one of us has ever paid ourselves a penny for the work or time we have put into it.
As I said, I was in a dark place in April. I had a full-time job that, like so many others, required all kinds of pivoting to deliver services remotely. I had children who no longer were able to leave the house, so all of their schooling and socialization had to happen through us. We had worked so hard to build small businesses, and the financial losses due to the pandemic were dizzying, with very real consequences for our family. To be clear, we are not buffered by some secret pocket of wealth, and have emptied our retirement accounts and reserves just to get places up and running. But, of course, this was set into a world where suddenly thousands of people were dying from Coronavirus. Just a few months earlier, our own child had been in ICU breathing with the help of a machine due to complications from illness, so we had a very visceral understanding of what was taking place across the country as hospitals scrambled to get ventilators and provide masks and gloves to their employees. It was unimaginable, and heartbreaking, and all of this was before the deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor became publicly known.
During this time, I built a small and personal resolve that I was done with the businesses, and Moonbow Tipple in particular. I wrestled with the idea it had been a calling. Had ego blinded me to the real plan? Had I tricked myself into believing something that was not real? I could imagine a life where I simply worked a job and was a mother, and not also trying to build up businesses in Eastern Kentucky. It seemed so much better, and simpler, and would certainly make more sense financially. I did not want to face the mountain of debt ahead of me, and begin the slow and painful process of rebuilding. I could not stand the division, and that people seemed angry at me for even opening a business in the first place. I felt incredibly guilty for all I had put my children through in the pursuit of this dream. Geoff would talk about using the time the coffee shop was closed to do some renovations and reopening with food, and I would argue with him that it was not worth it, and that I was not sure if Moonbow should even exist. I was at once deeply, and profoundly, tired of all of it, while also painfully aware that many people out there were facing far greater difficulty. Oh, how I wanted to lift my chin with optimism and find ways to step bravely into the new reality, but it seemed very unattainable.
But God.
And I say that cautiously, because I know bringing faith into the conversation makes connections for some, but for others feels as if you are no longer invited along the journey. But how else describe what happens in our dark hours, when we receive what we need? When our prayers our answered – not in the way we would ask, but in ways that are far greater than our imaginings?
It started at the end of April, when a very kind person sent me a check for a thousand dollars. It was a donation to Moonbow Tipple. This took me to my knees. If others believed in the idea, how could I be the one to abandon it? And then, on May 15th, I got even more dramatic news. I received an email that I had been selected, in the first round, as a recipient of the Red Backpack Fund grant for small women-run businesses, and would receive $5,000. The grant was incredibly competitive, with 200 recipients across thousands of applications around the country. Sarah Blakely is one of my heroes, and she was the entrepreneur behind it. I was absolutely floored; in fact, I was so shocked and humbled, I never even told anyone about the award. All around me were other small business owners who were pivoting in numerous brilliant ways. My friend Alison had to cancel the entire season of events for her lavender farm, yet found ways for socially distant visits and generous donations to hospital employees. My friend Kristin pivoted her restaurant to offer family meals and plenty of takeout. My friend Gina found a way to open a new restaurant in a new town, and then give her entire staff a week of paid leave. Meanwhile, there I was at home, feeling sorry for myself and secretly plotting how to walk away. It felt hard to accept something that so many people deserved, and it also felt like the very best possible kick in the pants.
All throughout the process of this coffee shop, we have had a number in mind to make something happen, and the money has found its way. This is exactly what happened with Moonbow Tipple. We estimated it would take about $5,000, total, to get a new kitchen up and running. We were at such a low point as a business, it would have been almost impossible to drum up that amount of money without the grant. And the thousand dollar donation was exactly the money needed to buy coffee and ingredients. With those two things together, we would be able to renovate and buy the supplies needed so that we could make food. It would have been so easy to take that money and use it other ways, but I set it aside specifically to reopen in Harlan, and Geoff began the process of renovation.
The summer months were a slow time of reengaging with the businesses. There was the new Moonbow Mercantile Williamsburg, which opened in August. I spent a good deal of time learning the art of homemade ice cream and sourcing local goods to sell. And as that was coming together, I heard from our staff in Harlan, who were eager to return to work. Not only that, but Harlan as a town had shown amazing resilience through Coronavirus. When Harlan Tourism got a grant to lead a “Safe Shop Hop” that emphasized masking and social distancing, we took it as our cue to restart. And so we rehired all of our staff (minus one lovely lady who has moved out-of-state to pursue a dream), and reopened our doors.
We have now been open again for just over a week, and it feels really good. The people of Harlan have been great to wear masks, and we have plenty of room for social distancing. And it is a beautiful space, a historic building that provides a great spot for folks needing sustenance or good internet. Our staff amaze me, and I have already had the privilege of making one new hire. Keep reading to find out more about some of the things that have happened and changes along the way.
Food
Our renovations have allowed us to install a kitchen. Check out some of our new menu items below.
Partnerships
Two exciting partnerships have emerged from this, including partnering with Fahe to be a “transformational employer.” This means we will get to work with folks in recovery to offer them employment.
We have also partnered with Moonlight Meat to have premium meats in our food. It is great to source meat from a local butcher!
Community
We weren’t the only ones renovating during the pandemic. Our neighbors down the street, Sassy Trash, opened up a whole new floor. And the Pizza Portal has come under exciting new ownership. There are so many reasons why Harlan is a great place to visit.
Next Steps
We still have a lovely stage in our building, and we are looking forward to a future when it will be feasible to have live music again. Perhaps we will find ways to do this in a socially distant manner.
In the meantime, we feel incredibly blessed. Moonbow Tipple is still in its beginning phases, and it is such an honor to be part of the community of Harlan.
Get to Know Us
Sky and Geoff Marietta are passionate about rebuilding Main Street businesses in Appalachian Kentucky. Look for some of our blog posts below, or find out more about our start here.