KUDZU’S CLOSING:
Edge District mainstay’s closing follows Wonder Bread’s shut down
Question is, will it return to 603 Monroe like namesake weed?
Kudzu’s Bar and Grill, a neighborhood watering hole, live music showcase and eatery for nearly 25 years, will close its doors today because of lack of business.
Jerry King, who has operated the bar at 603 Monroe since 2011, said it never recovered after lunch business fell off a cliff when the nearby Wonder Bread bakery closed in November 2012. Kudzu’s night business slipped as well when Overton Square’s revival cranked up, King said.
“Even though the area is coming back slowly, the entertainment dollar is kind of fractured,” King said.
He put the business on the market last December, hoping to find an operator to carry on a nightclub tradition that dates to the 1920s in the century-old building. As the Little Commercial Grill, it was frequented by employees of Memphis Publishing Co., publisher of The Commercial Appeal, which owns a parking lot on the east side of Kudzu’s. It also was formerly known as the Cameo Lounge.
Steve and Cathy Edmundson started Kudzu’s in 1990 and sold to King and his wife, Kelly, a human resources executive, who also bought the two-story building from Kudzu’s former landlords.
King previously co-owned a bar in Indianapolis and wanted to get into the business in Memphis. He said he fell in love with Memphis while working as a welder at an ornamental iron company in 1989-1990, and he always dreamed of moving back.
Now he’s planning to get a knee replacement later this month, recuperate and pursue other career possibilities.
Regular customers were saddened, but not surprised, after watching the business decline even as the surrounding Edge neighborhood undergoes a rejuvenation.
“It’s been a great place from the previous owner to this owner,” said Terry Bishop, a retiree who lives on Mud Island. “It’s a great place to get a lunch and come get a beer in the afternoon and listen to live music in the evening.”
Bishop was looking for a hangout with character when he moved to Memphis in 2007. “I saw this green building and I said, ‘That looks like my kind of place.’”
He hugged waitress Dana Cagle on his way out Thursday and said he’d have bought the place himself if he and his wife weren’t moving to Nashville later this month.
Richard Wood, a cabinet maker at Kerns-Wilcheck on Union Avenue, said he wasn’t sure what he’ll do for lunch Monday. “I’ve eaten every workday lunch for the last 16 years here,” said Wood.
“I will hate for it not to be here,” said Wood. “It’s a fixture.”
Mike Todd, a contractor and owner of multiple properties in the Edge district between Downtown and Medical Center, said, “I hate to see it go. It’s certainly a tradition in the neighborhood.”
King said the High Cotton microbrewery, across the street, brought him new customers and didn’t cost him any, but the tap room didn’t have extensive
enough hours to boost his business throughout the week.
Closing night will feature the Java Trio, starting about 9 p.m. Friday night’s lineup included Ego Slip, the band in which King plays bass guitar and sings.
King and his wife are trying to sell the bar business and rent the building to the new operator. King and his real estate agent, Joe Dougherty of Leco Realty, have had some interest but no deal has been struck.
King said he has refused offers from customers to buy memorabilia hanging on the walls, because the décor is “part of the charm of the place.”
Vying for attention on one wall are copies of the Mona Lisa and a “Wizard of Oz” scene of Dorothy, Toto and the Emerald City. There’s a bumper sticker that says “Don’t Blame Me, I Voted for Elvis,” and an assortment of signs from businesses that once operated in the area, including Southern Batteries.
In a clerestory window facing Monroe hangs an IV bag labeled “M*A*S*H.”
Bishop, Wood and others didn’t think today will be the end of the line, given 603 Monroe’s history and the neighborhood’s budding rebirth. Bishop believes it may be dormant for a season like its namesake vine, then spring back to life.
“There will be somebody who buys it. It’s like a weed,” Bishop said.