The Historic Old Jail

We are Marshall locals committed to creating a strong link between Appalachia’s rich past and its blossoming future. Our building has always been a hub for community life, a gathering space in our little town above the French Broad River on the edge of the Pisgah National Forest. There has been pain here, as with any place of incarceration. Yet beyond the institution are memories of a place where community thrived, connected, and conversed for generations.

Its complicated tale is a testament to the unique culture of Appalachia, a place that’s seen both hardship and struggle and togetherness, hope and joy. It has a legacy defined by the community of our small mountain town. By friends, family, elders and neighbors.

Part art hotel, part museum exhibit, part historic preservation, our guests can enjoy modern amenities while they travel through time. Original architectural pieces, artifacts, historic photos and documents are displayed throughout the building to create an immersive storytelling experience. A love letter to our community and the people who have shaped it, and a look into the future we are building together.

“If there’s any hope in the world for a young boy, the last place in the world for him is a jail.”

— E.Y.PONDER

A Community Cornerstone, Est. 1905

The Old Marshall Jail was a center for small town Appalachian life for over a century. When the old jail officially closed in 2012, it retired as the oldest operating jail in North Carolina history. For 116 years, the Old Marshall Jail stood at the center of Marshall, North Carolina, stalwart during rising rivers and boom times. In its halls, the community has recorded life, death and drivers licenses.

Many locals recall the Old Marshall Jail as a gathering place in the heart of town. This building stands as a testament to Appalachian life, of community bonds, neighbors and family and struggles and survival. Its existence and past are mirrors to the duality of these Southern mountains and the way our community has made them home.

If These Walls Could Talk

“If these walls could talk” is a common refrain. These walls have heard many secrets and stories.

Embedded in each brick is the history of our building dug up in town archives or told to us by generations of locals who have spent time here.

From heartache to heroism, these walls tell it all. We aim to create an space that honors the magic of storytelling while inviting guests to imagine new possibilities and new memories inside these walls. An immersive look into the rich culture and magic of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

A New Beginning

In 2016, four business partners bought the jail with the hopes of reviving the shuttered iconic building into a new iteration.

Co-owner and artist, Josh Copus, and a team of local craftsmen, completed an extensive renovation - focusing on preserving the structures and unique aspects of a decaying building while outfitting it to meet the modern age.

And a bright future

For five years, we carefully deconstructed the original structure, preserving the historic aspects of the building and piecing it back together into a fully renovated and reimagined space. In 2021, we officially launched the Old Marshall Jail Hotel and Zadies Market, reviving this tenured building to serve a new generation of Marshall locals and visitors alike.

The Old Marshall Jail of today stands as a a reminder that all things, and all people, deserve a chance at new life.

Legends & Lawmakers

Our Museum Halls offer visitors an opportunity to peer into 100 years of Madison County history. The entire building hosts a collection of manuscripts, logs, photographs and artifacts generously donated to us through community members and archivists.

We invite you to get to know Jeff Bailey and Omar Smith, who proudly told us how they escaped through the ceiling. Read the field notes of legendary Madison County Sheriff E.Y. Ponder, wearing a suit and never carrying a gun. Round up moonshiners with Jesse James Bailey during prohibition. Imagine Geraldine, the dispatcher, making biscuits in the morning (and maybe even meet her). Or trek the route down to the river on a spring morning, where serving out your sentence would mean going fishing for the day…just as long as you were back before sundown.