To spot the Woodmen of Union Building, look for a big, four-story red-brick building with fancy cream-colored stonework around its windows and a dramatic, arched entrance set just off Malvern Avenue-it’s hard to miss, especially with that big decorative entrance peeking out at you!
Now, take a deep breath and step back in time with me. Picture yourself on Malvern Avenue in the early 1920s. There’s the sound of horse hooves and the clanging of trolleys in the distance, and you’re standing in front of a building that’s just about to make history. This was no ordinary address-this was the Woodmen of Union Building, a beacon for Hot Springs’ African-American community, dressed smartly in brick, ceramic block, and beautiful cream trim.
In 1923, the Supreme Lodge of the Woodmen of Union poured its hopes, dreams, and savings into these very bricks. The building opened in a flurry of excitement-imagine hundreds of people, sharp in their best suits and hats, streaming in to dedicate this new landmark. And what a marvel it was! It had it all: a 100-bed hospital, a bath hotel with 75 rooms, a bustling bank with a genuine vault (which is still inside!), elegant marble wainscoting in the halls, and a grand 2,500-seat auditorium upstairs. If buildings could multitask, this one was the champion.
The Woodmen of Union gave people a place to heal, rest, dance, and even print newspapers all under one roof. At night, the auditorium would shimmer with jazz and laughter-legends like Count Basie and Duke Ellington brought the house down, making the walls practically vibrate with music and applause.
Fast forward to 1950-the building was snapped up by the National Baptist Association. The hotel and bathhouse became a safe haven for Black visitors during segregation, watched over by federal bathhouse inspectors making sure everything stayed top-notch. But then, slowly, the world changed. As public spaces finally opened up to everyone, the need for this special refuge faded, and by 1981, the grand old hotel had to close its doors, the echoes of footsteps and jazz fading into memory.
Today, as you stand in front of this proud survivor, you’re looking at more than bricks and arches. You’re seeing the dreams of a community, the hum of a lively city, and a living piece of Hot Springs’ story. And if you ever feel a tap on your shoulder here… well, it’s probably just the spirit of a jazz musician hoping you brought your dancing shoes!
