“We were prepared for COVID.”
Kathy and Jerome Jenkins, owners of Cathy’s Kitchen in Ferguson, answered resolutely when asked how COVID-19 had impacted their business. Their answer was surprising, considering the disproportionate damage the pandemic has wrought on Black businesses, in particular. But the Jenkinses say their years as struggling entrepreneurs and the protests following police killings readied them for the economic chaos caused by the coronavirus. In fact, for the past year, the couple has posted photos and videos on social media of them and their staff dancing, singing, exercising and happily coping despite the restrictions St. Louis County officials put on businesses that negatively and drastically affected their operations and bottom line.
Staying publicly upbeat during the downturn of COVID wasn’t a marketing strategy, the Jenkinses insist, it was a manifestation of who they are and what they believe: “We don’t separate fun from business,” Jerome said. “You could see the stress on people’s faces,” Cathy added. “People were stuck in the house. Many had lost their jobs. They were so unhappy, so we set out to be happier.”
Like other small businesses, the Jenkinses lost revenue and dine-in customers due to the pandemic. But the innovative couple’s story underscores how COVID-19 couldn’t possibly destroy their spirits or their faith, despite the hardships.
Before migrating here in 1990 from Gary, Indiana, the Jenkinses read that Ferguson was a “progressive and inclusive community.” Jerome, a former University of Illinois track star, got a job at Circuit City and later as a coach at McCluer High School. Cathy, who was still in the Army National Guard, mostly focused on raising their three children.
In 1993, the couple opened a kiosk in the St. Louis Centre downtown selling hand-crafted neckties they made after purchasing a $99 sewing machine. Business was good until it wasn’t. From 1995 to 1996, the Jenkinses struggled. They found themselves sleeping on the floor of Jerome’s brother’s apartment, surviving on hot dogs and rice.
By that time, Jerome’s experimentation with printing on fabric was paying off. He isn’t a chemist, nor has he studied chemistry. What did do, however, was call chemical companies and ask about the properties necessary to make a product that would make ink permanent and resistant to smearing or fading when wet. The product, “Bubble Jet Set,” was a life-changer. Before long, the couple was manufacturing the product for clients nationally and internationally. Hewlett Packard and NASA, who studied the ingredients of “Bubble Jet Set,” informed them that their product was conducive for bubble jet printers and nonflammable insignia on space suits.
The Jenkins’ fortunes soared, but after raising their children, Cathy told Jerome she felt “unaccomplished” and wanted something of her own. The success of “Bubble Jet Set” allowed them to take a few years, travel the country and plot a course of fulfillment for Cathy. Although she said she couldn’t cook at the time, Cathy asked chefs throughout the country about their most popular dishes. Most happily complied.
The Jenkinses turned their home in Ferguson into a makeshift café. They’d post dishes on Facebook, and people would come by to pick up orders. When more than 90 cars were lined up outside their house, the Jenkinses knew it was time to find a permanent location. Thus was the birth of Cathy’s Kitchen at 250 S. Florissant Road in Ferguson.
Business boomed until a fateful day in August 2014. The Jenkins’ business wasn’t immune to the protests and riots that ensued after the police shooting of Mike Brown. Ironically, it was one of those incidents that catapulted Cathy’s Kitchen to national recognition. Video footage of customers and Ferguson residents locked arm-in-arm to stop rioters from vandalizing the restaurant went national.
“With all the stories of protest and violence in the headlines today, there’s at least one story of protesters actually protecting a business,” CNN’s Anderson Cooper said before interviewing the couple live from Ferguson.
After that initial interview, Cathy’s Kitchen became the place that reporters, protestors and celebrities like Danny Glover, Kevin Costner, Harry Belafonte, Aeneas Williams and Cornel West frequented. Still, even with the national attention, there was struggle: “When the smoke cleared and everybody went home, there was zero business happening,” Cathy recalled. “It was getting to the point where we thought we would have to close.”
An unexpected visit from singer, songwriter and activist Melissa Etheridge turned into a genuine friendship that opened unprecedented doors for the Jenkinses. Thanks to an invite for Cathy to be the celebrity chef on one of Etheridge’s tours, they found themselves courted by Disney, Universal Studios and other major manufacturers interested in Jerome’s chemicals. Because of their connections to Etheridge, the Jenkinses were invited to the Grammys, and Cathy was drafted to introduce then-Vice President Joe Biden at Jason Kander’s U.S. Senate Campaign Rally in 2016.
The Jenkinses recognized the ramifications of COVID early. In February of 2020, before the country shut down, they closed Cathy’s Kitchen, opting instead for pick-up and delivery services only. Experience and an irrefutable faith in God, they say, prepared them for the long haul. They focused on feeding kids and protestors for free and utilized the Internet to show off new dishes and staff antics aimed at boosting the morale of their employees, customers and anyone who visited their website.
Even though restrictions have eased in St. Louis County, Cathy’s Kitchen hasn’t resumed dine-in services yet. But they’re still growing. They’ve been offered reality shows and other promotional opportunities. Plans are underway to manufacture hot sauces and other “Cathy’s Kitchen” products, and a second location is in the works, the Jenkinses said, as soon as their oldest daughters are ready to launch the venture.
The joy and exuberance the couple demonstrate virally throughout the pandemic is not a gimmick or publicity stunt. It’s real, Jerome Jenkins said: “It’s part of us, it’s who we are. It’s a job, but we can at least make it fun.”
Sylvester Brown Jr. is The St. Louis American’s inaugural Deaconess Fellow