by Fred Seely
Editorial Director
Ray Solomon’s business life has been built on bargains. Remember Solomon’s Bargain Barn, where you might find a thousand cans of the same cat food, a bin of 500 black golf balls or a shelf of shutters? And all would be sold within a week?
“I enjoy the salvage business,” he says.
But his latest venture was no bargain. “I paid four times what the next guy offered,” he said. “It was sentimental. It was part of my life. I’ve been a customer for 31 years.”
The Bargain Barn is gone, replaced by a smaller operation with his son, but his business sense remains and he’s now the owner of Checker Bar-B-Q, the St. Augustine Road institution.
“The roadwork outside killed the business for a while and the owner was getting close to quitting,” he said. “She had some offers, though not for much. I’ve never had anything to do with the restaurant business, but it seemed like it was worth a try. I have a friend who went in with me; it’s an investment.”
Luckily, the immediate past owner is still there. She’s Robin McCullough, who bought Checker six years ago from the Abdullah family, which founded it in 1967 and finally ran out of relatives to run it. She’s the only cook, arriving at 6:30 in the morning and toiling until closing around 3 in the little building just north of Emerson Street.
“This is my knight in shining armor,” she said, giving Solomon a hug. “If he hadn’t bought it, I might have just closed the door and walked away. This place is part of me; when I went to Landon (High,) the bus would let me off near here. I’d come by for a Coke and fries every day.”
Also lucky for Solomon, the only other employee stayed. She’s Kim Clark, the waitress for over 11 years.
“I probably know 90 percent of our customers by their first name,” she says. She points to a man at the counter: “He’s been here almost every day for six years.”
Solomon’s interest was simple: it was part of his life.
“We had business meetings here all the time,” he said. ‘Lots of people meet here and do business. You know how the politicians and lawyers go to Cotten’s (on Main Street)? They come here, too. What Cotten’s is to the Northside, we’re that to the Southside.”
But Solomon isn’t only into it for sentiment.
“It has potential to make money,” he said. “We only seat 40, but we’ll turn those tables 2-3 times each day.” And, as he spoke, the place was full. It was 11:45.
The menu is about the same as it’s been since 1967 (an original menu is framed on the wall): standard barbecue restaurant fare. The ribs are big, the fried corn looks fresh and the fries are hot.
The building is almost the same as you saw in 1967. The only changes Solomon has made are new carpet on the floor and putting his collection of boxing photos on the wall.
He’s there an hour or so a day, though it’s more likely that he’s there three or four, visiting with cronies and greeting customers. His 24-year-old youngest son, Kelly, works with him at Solomon Ventures, the downsized version of the Bargain Barn and near the old business’s location near Beach Road Chicken Dinners.
Kelly appears to be a quick learner.
“We got a bunch of big leather animals,” said Solomon. “Big things; the giraffes wouldn’t even fit in the room, the elephants are so big around you can hardly get them in the door and the horses are real tall.
“A guy came in the other day and saw what we had. He said, ‘You’ll never sell that stuff.’ Well, Kelly has only two horses left, and people are looking at them.
“We can sell stuff.”
Can he sell barbecue?
“Yes, but only here,” he said. “Since I’ve owned this place, two or three people have asked about a franchise. I’ve been around long enough to know that you lose something when you franchise.
“This is not about money. It’s ...
Tradition?
“Oh, and because I like the ribs so much.”