After rejecting a $5 million offer for his prime East Side real estate, the heat is still on Brian Mays to pack up his pit. By David Leffler July 2019
Last fall, Brian Mays made headlines across Texas as the man who refused to sell out. The Austin native and owner of Sam’s BBQ, an East Austin monument that’s existed since the 1940s, turned down two separate offers from out-of-state developers vying for his 12th Street property—one bid for $3.5 million, another for $5 million. Staring at the payday of a lifetime, the pitmaster turned his back and just kept on cooking.
On a warm spring afternoon, Mays strolls about his restaurant wearing chunky black glasses and bright red pants. He chats with customers gnawing on glistening ribs, potato salad, and brisket. As they exchange a few laughs, Mays displays the same gregarious nature that’s earned him roles in Hollywood films like Joe (starring Nicolas Cage). It’s been nearly a year since he was approached by the real estate developers, but with family, neighbors, and strangers weighing in on the decision, the Navy veteran says it’s felt like a decade. “I ain’t gonna lie to you, it’s hard turning down that kind of money,” he says, shaking his head. “How many people do you know who’d turn down $5 million for their community? Who the f*** does that?”
With 18 kids and more than 40 grandkids, Mays is the quintessential pater familias. He’s adopted this persona within the East Austin community as well, making Sam’s one of its core cultural hubs for the four decades he’s been at the helm. As his customer base has shifted from almost entirely African-American to widely diverse, he’s come to see his establishment as one of the region’s last bastions of hope. “The neighborhood is mixed now, so we’ve got to build our unity with who’s here,” he says. “Because what was once here isn’t anymore; we’ve got to get our sense of community back.”
It’s no mystery how East Austin got to this point. After the city’s “1928 Master Plan” forced African-Americans out of valuable centrally located properties into a “negro district” on the town’s East Side, residents became subjected to widespread redlining from financial institutions and economic isolation—circumstances that fueled an income inequality gap that grew increasingly wider as the years passed. Not surprisingly, longtime residents had few safeguards against the rising home prices that began creeping into their neighborhoods in the early 2000s.
As developers took larger and larger bites of the area’s real estate, the existing population disappeared in droves. Between 2000 and 2010, East Austin’s black population decreased by 60 percent, while its white population increased by 442 percent. Simultaneously, the neighborhood’s median family income shot up nearly 50 percent between the years 2010 and 2015.
These combined factors put Sam’s squarely in the crosshairs of condo-hunting developers. According to the Austin Business Journal, the value of Mays’ primary land parcel rose from $132,000 to more than $375,000 between 2014 and 2018—a whopping 184 percent increase. Most people would leap at this kind of financial opportunity, but Mays says he’s holding out for the right offer. Considering the $3.8 million sum he scored on the sale of several of his East Austin houses and properties in 2010, he’s got time to spare. Sam’s also reportedly makes around $230,000 annually. “Last year, there was a big movement to ‘Save Sam’s,’” he says. “I appreciated the gesture, but ‘save’ sounds like I’m going out of business or broke. I want your support, not your pity; there’s a big difference.”
It’s been months since Texas Monthly first uncovered the Sam’s saga, but Mays is still grappling with the decision in front of him. On one hand, he believes his establishment is the last of its kind in East Austin—a reminder of a past era that’s fading fast. But he also has to look out for the interests of his family. “I’ve got to make sure everybody’s going to have money. When you have a gold mine, you better make sure all your gold’s out of the mine before you sell it,” he says.
Looking forward, it’s likely just a matter of time (and money) until Sam’s goes away. Earlier this year, Mays said he wouldn’t blink to sell his restaurant for $10 million, double what he’d previously been offered. But with a summer meeting on the calendar with area developers, he’s keeping his options open while trying to soak up every last conversation and bite of brisket. If Austinites are smart, they’ll do the same. “You gotta go to Sam’s while it’s still here,” he says. “Because when it’s gone, that’s it.”
