Late night in the Walnut Park East neighborhood of north St. Louis, Michael “Bud” Sims had just started planting an apple tree outside of his shop. Around the corner, a large group of people gathered in the street, listening to music, drinking, and smoking weed.
A fight breaks out between two of Bud’s close friends. A gun is drawn, one of the men sprints to his car to grab his gun, but it is too late. Now a gun is to his head, “click, click, click,” he squeezes the trigger, but the gun is jammed.
Another scuffle ensues. Bud runs from around the corner and puts himself in between the two men.
“Chill the fuck out man,” Bud says. “That’s your fucking brother.”
“Bud, you better get your fucking hands off me,” the man screams as he tries to cock his gun.
Finally, the man backs off and the conflict dies down. Bud picks up his shovel and returns to his apple tree. As he pats down the last bit of dirt, a barrage of gunfire goes off in the distance. It’s another night in Walnut Park East.
In 2017, Bud was arrested for unlawful possession of a firearm and possession of a controlled substance. In the months leading up to his arrest, he had already begun the transition from street life. He purchased two houses, one in Walnut Park East, and was on his way out of the dope game before he was arrested.
While in jail, Bud had the idea to purchase an abandoned building on the corner he grew up on. His plan was to build a barbershop, apartment, and music studio.
Bud has spent the past six years, hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars transforming the vacant building into his shop, Kicks Cuts and Caps.
It's bigger than cutting hair and making music, the shop’s influence extends far into the surrounding community.
“It shines a little light on the community, on this little corner,” Bud said. “You got somewhere to come, you welcome. Get outta the cold, get outta the rain, come get a haircut, make you feel better, put a little smile on your face.”
Bud is a true hustler. As a father of ten children and a leader of his community, Bud is involved in building rehabilitation, selling cars, making clothing and even plumbing. The money he earns from his many lines of work goes straight to supporting his family and the streets he grew up on.
The way he approaches his work is much like how he drives his cars, fast and masterful. In just one day, Bud will have sold a car, hung an entire room of drywall, painted it, and cut a couple heads of hair. Even with his rapid-fire way of living, Bud is intentional and deliberate with every stroke of the paint brush and every pass of the clippers.
When you walk into Bud’s shop, you notice the close attention to detail and care that he put into creating his space. He drapes images of famous rappers over the barber chairs. He has framed portraits of prominent black figures on the walls. In the back corner, he has a counter where you can buy clothes, candy, snacks and sodas. Look down and you will see a tile floor that Bud carefully laid out before you. Bud’s shop is his magnum opus. Its aura embodies the spirit of Walnut Park East.
His approach to healing the open wounds of violence and incarceration is to create a space where young men in Walnut Park East can feel comfortable and relaxed. It’s a space where people find love and peace a place where one can feel at ease and not have to look over their shoulder.
In the years that he has spent renovating his space, the building has become a gathering place for his friends and neighbors. On any given day, you will find people driving by, honking their horns, younger men in the community knocking on Bud’s door to help renovate or seek advice. To him, Walnut Park East is love.
“It’s love in the neighborhood, period. It don’t hurt speak, man. That could change a mother fuckers' whole day,” Bud said. “It don’t hurt to speak to somebody. It’s not fucked up over here. It’s love over here. People care about people. It’s life.”
Outside of his shop, Bud has planted a garden with flowers and fruit trees. The peacefulness inside is now felt in the streets. Bud’s mission is propelled by his early life and experiences in the streets.
Like other men in his neighborhood, Bud is a member of the 6-Deuce Crips. Growing up, he hustled everything from stolen car parts and electronics to weed and heroin. That hustle is long gone but the pull to the streets is ever present. Nonetheless, Bud’s hustle for health and prosperity in Walnut Park East is blooming.
“There is a reason for me to have this building, a reason for me to be a part of this neighborhood, Bud said.“It’s a reason for me to come down here.”
From 2014 to 2022, there have been 82 firearm-related injuries and 64 firearm-related deaths in Walnut Park East — a neighborhood with just over 2,500 residents. Take one walk down Bud’s street and you will see people openly caring assault rifles and handguns. Walnut Park East has been decimated by mass incarceration and abandoned properties.
“Sometimes I pull up and a motherfucker is probably going through something, and I say some words of encouragement that change a motherfuckers' life,” Bud said. “It’ll stop them from doing some shit they gone do to fuck somebody else up.”
Life in Walnut Park East consists of many aspects of work, love, and growth. Bud speaks to his community from a place of understanding, compassion, and a yearning for a future of prosperity and health for his people. The grand opening of his shop signifies a monumental shift in the livelihood and longevity of Walnut Park East’s residents. It is a day of rebirth and a look forward to a wellspring of wealth in the once fractured community.