Once Upon a Time... on Glenwood

Picture it: Summer 2009. Raleigh, NC. Glenwood Avenue is the mecca of nightlife, a vibrant strip teeming with all types of clubs and people. You could always feel the heartbeat of the city any day from Thursday to Sunday.

Enter Tiggalo's Two Step. This was more than just a party or a gathering; it was the soundtrack of my summer that year, an ongoing series that perfectly captured the essence of community, healing, and authentic musical expression. Hosted by the oh-so-charming and charismatic Phonte of Little Brother, this series invited us to come together for warm nights filled with dancing, laughter, and the unifying power of music.

At 25, I was navigating a world of uncertainty and transformation. Fresh out of a long-term relationship, I was adjusting to life as a single mother. My days were filled with the demands of parenthood, yet I found myself wrestling with feelings of confusion about where I was headed. I worked a job that drained my spirit, leaving little room for the joy I needed. One day, while scrolling through Facebook (back when you still needed a college email), I saw an invitation to Globe Nightclub for Tiggalo’s Two Step Thursdays. I convinced my girlfriends to go out on a school night, and we headed down to Glenwood.

Each installment of the party brought together a beautiful mix of familiar faces and new friends, all gathered for one reason: our love for music. Here, pretentiousness took a backseat and authenticity reigned supreme, creating an environment where we could all express ourselves freely. Imagine the sounds of classic hip-hop from artists like A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul, alongside feel-good soul from legends like Minnie Riperton and Teddy Pendergrass. Remember, this was 2009 — clubs were typically filled with catchy tracks from artists like Soulja Boy or Keri Hilson. That summer, while Drake was beginning his rise to mainstream popularity, glossy, super-produced music ruled the airwaves. Listening to soul and classic hip-hop was not the norm, making it all the more refreshing to bask in music that simply felt GOOD.

Each party throughout that summer and fall became an ongoing celebration of authenticity, bringing together artists, fans, and friends who simply wanted to experience the joy of music without the burdens of ego. The presence of iconic figures like Big Pooh, Chaundon, and Carlitta Durand further elevated the atmosphere. Nobody was there to flaunt accolades; we were all there to share in the magic that music inspires. It served as a stunning reminder that we were all interconnected, each of us contributors to a much larger narrative.

One Thursday in particular is etched in my memory: June 25, 2009, the day Michael Jackson passed away. His loss shook the very foundation of those who loved him. His death felt like our childhood dying. That Thursday evening at Tiggalo's Two Step was unlike any other; it was not just a regular party, but an impromptu memorial steeped in both grief and celebration.