James “Jimmy” Owens Jr., the owner of the historical St. Louis landmarks Sarah Lou Restaurant and the Golden Slipper Lounge, departed this life on January 17, 2011.
Sarah Lou sat at the northeast corner of St. Louis and Sarah avenues and was a mainstay in St. Louis city for more than 30 years. Most remembered the establishment, which closed in 2002, for its one-of-a-kind “Sarah Lou Shrimp” and tartar sauce. Many have attempted to replicate the recipe and some have come close, family members said, but there will only be one Sarah Lou.
“The restaurant was renowned,” said Joe Lewis, a friend and regular customer who attended the wake on Jan. 25 at the Ozella Foster Funeral Service. “There was nothing like it. And I have not had anything like it since.”
Jimmy Owens is survived by his children: Janet Horton of St. Louis, Joyce Ferguson and her husband, John, of Los Angeles; Jerard Owens and his wife, Adria, of Arlington, Va.; and Byron Owens of St. Louis. His son James Owens III has passed away, but his wife Doris Owens attended the services. Owens had 18 grandchildren, 17 great grandchildren and three great, great grandchildren.
In 1972, Jimmy bought the Sarah Lou restaurant, which had been shut down under the previous owner, with his late wife Erma Jean Owens. However in the late 1950s, Jimmy had opened the Golden Slipper Lounge with his first wife, Earline Carrin, who also has passed. At that time, Jimmy was working for the Advance Vending company, fixing jukeboxes and vending machines. He would drive around town repairing the machines and stocking the jukeboxes with all the latest records. His good friends and children remember riding around with him to the various businesses.
“We were able to go into places where blacks weren’t allowed because it was during the time of segregation,” said Janet Horton, his daughter.
The owners then of Advance Vending were Italian, Horton said, and they helped Jimmy get past much of the red tape that black business owners faced during that time. Through regularly frequenting bars and restaurants with the vending business, Jimmy befriended many people in the industry. These relationships, along with his jovial, “big talker” manner, helped his businesses flourish, Horton said. He continued working for Advance Vending for more than 20 years.
The name “Golden Slipper” came from one of the first regular customers who always wore gold stilettos. Later the woman gave the shoes to Jimmy, and he mounted them in the bar.
In 1972, Jimmy and Erma Jean moved the Golden Slipper right next door to Sarah Lou. Debbie Thomas, who worked at the lounge for 15 years, said that she could always tell when Jimmy was coming because the many keys he carried jingled when he walked. He always made sure that everyone was doing okay and taken care of, she said.
The bar and restaurant were gathering places for the neighborhood, many said.
“People cared about each other,” Thomas said. “It was like a family.”
The lounge – a rustic-looking bar with booths that Jimmy built himself – had about 75 people come through every night and about 150 on the weekends. The restaurant potentially sold more shrimp than any other non-chain restaurant in the Midwest, said his son Jerard Owens.
Many said Jimmy was like a “godfather” in the community because he was an avid advocate for children’s causes, such as Kiwanis, and he employed generations of neighborhood residents. Many people from police to politicians frequented the restaurant and bar.
“At the time, politicians would come into the bar and use the bar owners to talk with the people,” Jerard said.
Although not many white people would eat at the restaurant in the early years, they would order food to go, particularly during the lunch rush. In 30 years of business, Sarah Lou only raised its prices on shrimp by 75 cents, Jerard said.
“No matter how much the market fluctuated, he always wanted it affordable for people to come and enjoy a delicacy,” he said.
Jerard remembers taking trips to Brownsville, Texas to meet with people in the shrimp industry, as well as to Chicago for the National Restaurant Association shows. Many suppliers would bid for the restaurant’s business because they knew of its high-volume shrimp needs.
Horton, who worked at the restaurant for a time, said the high traffic made for laborious work. After a few years, she returned to working as a hospice nurse. As a young man, Jimmy studied at Lincoln University for one semester with the intention of pursing medicine. Because of a lack of funds, he withdrew from college and got a good-paying job at Krey Packing Company. Horton said her father always encouraged his children to get a college education.
And without fail, Jimmy would close down the restaurant for a month and take his family on vacation – mostly hunting and fishing trips. He was a member of the National Rifle Association for 20 years.
The family decided to close the business because Jimmy could no longer handle the business’ many facets. The 100-year-old historical building also needed repair but the abiding by the historical-building regulations was overwhelming, Jerard said.
The restaurant had many well-known regulars, including Dennis Edwards of the Temptations, the Bosley family and many other elected officials over the years. Many will remember Jimmy’s joyful presence and his favorite sayings, such as, “I don’t know everything, but I know a little about all things.”
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