Story by Ramishah Maruf
Video and photos by Erin Jenkins
Graphic by Julia Johnson
DURHAM, North Carolina — The walls of JC’s Kitchen in downtown Durham tell of an establishment frozen in time — before a pandemic-induced recession, before a summer of racial justice protests, and even before owner Phyllis Terry took over the restaurant 12 years ago.
The signs inside are devoted to God, prayers on every table. Gospel music blasts through the restaurant, though no one but owner Phyllis Terry is listening. JC’s, which stands for Jesus Christ’s, was a center for the Hayti District’s church community — families gathering after church to share platters of Oxtail and mac and cheese.
The flags from around the world are still draped on the walls. The tables are set, though no one is sitting there. Now, chairs are stacked against the wall, and Terry is the only person working behind the counter serving takeout.
Durham has changed, and the COVID-19 pandemic has changed it even more. Outside her small, red building that was built in 1955, Terry points down the street to a new apartment building. Just behind her is the glass police station that opened in 2018.[1]
“We can see the tearing down of the buildings,” Terry says. “I can name too many things that were here back in the day, but now, we’re the only building still sitting.”
The COVID-19 pandemic has disproportionately affected minority communities, permanently closing an estimated 25% of the city’s Black-owned businesses, according to CJ Broderick, the president and CEO of the Greater Durham Black Chamber of Commerce.
In a city facing rapid gentrification, JC’s Kitchen is still alive because of its namesake and the loyalty of the local community, Terry says.
Where does it begin?
Durham has long heralded its history of Black entrepreneurship. N.C. Mutual Life, the largest and oldest Black-owned insurance company in the United States, is a staple of the downtown skyline. Durham was home to a thriving Black-owned business district, a part of Black Wall Street.
But in the past decades, the makeup of Durham has changed as “revitalization” efforts took place — raising property values and making it harder for small businesses to survive.
“Most often, people that are small businesses, poor, or of color are not engaged in the economic development process and as such, resources for how areas grow don’t get aligned equitably,” said Broderick.
Black businesses aren’t monolithic — there are large companies in Durham as well as small restaurants that have opened up just this year. But Black Americans and their businesses have not had the opportunity to amass wealth over generations.
“They may be underfunded, under-resourced, undercapitalized, undernetworked,” Broderick said.
When cities like Durham began developing their economies, these businesses were not included.
A drive down downtown Durham shows boarded up shop windows and “closed” signs taped on the doors. Many don’t have a strong base to survive recessions like that caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.
“Everyone should be represented in how the community grows,” Broderick said. “People that are Black haven’t had an opportunity to ensure that their businesses were centered or were any part of the discussion.”
A community staple
JC’s Kitchen is a part of that recent history. Terry’s brother opened the business 30 years ago as “Lee’s Restaurant” in a small building on the corner of East Main Street and North Elizabeth Street. Terry’s other siblings came in to help, too.
When Terry’s sister Sheilah Lee took over, she transformed JC’s as a center for inspiration and helping others.
JC’s became a place for church-goers in East Durham to gather. Before COVID-19, customers would stop regularly for a prayer before an important court case downtown — daily breads are on every table. Families shared platters of oxtails after church as gospel music played over the chatter.
Her sister was at the center of that community.
“She and I, we were the best of friends,” Terry said.
For many years, Terry split her time between Durham and Japan, where she worked as a missionary. And back in Durham, her sister would put her to work.
“She would always make sure I was in the car with her and taking out orders and all of that,” Terry said. “She was actually training me, but I didn’t have a clue what was coming. This was not my thing.”
Sheilah passed away from cancer in 2008. Terry returned from Japan, vowing to continue her sister’s legacy — “the dream lives on” is painted under her mural.
“A lot of people who come here are Christians,” Terry said. “They activate their faith and who they are.”
A lifeline for all?
There have been federal and state-wide lifelines to businesses, especially in the form of the $660 billion Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) program. However, a Washington Post analysis found that businesses in minority communities were less likely to receive the loans. PPP loans can be forgiven if they are used in payrolls at pre-pandemic rates. [2]
But Broderick said the PPP loans, rolled out as a mature lending tool, were not used by many minority-owned businesses. There are language barriers as well, preventing small business owners who don’t speak English well from applying to the loans.
Terry chose not to apply. “I did not want to sign something that in turn, I would have created a debt,” Terry said.
During lunch time, it is just Terry working the restaurant — answering phone calls, serving customers, keeping the food warm. Besides a cook who comes in the morning, it is her behind the counter. There is no need to outsource her payroll.
“A lot of businesses were scared to take that money because they were looking at the effects of the coronavirus and the pandemic,” Broderick said. “They were saying, ‘Wait a minute, there’s no guarantee that if I take this money for my business I won’t be in a worse position than I am now.’”
The summer that changed everything
As Black Lives Matter protests gripped the country after the death of George Floyd, Terry commissioned another mural for JC’s Kitchen. Her niece painted it — a BLM mural right at the entrance to the restaurant, with different colored fists raised in solidarity.
From the mural, over a short brick wall, the Durham Police Department Headquarters towers over JC’s Kitchen. And over the summer, protestors marched right past JC’s. Late one night, Terry got a call that during a protest — her windows were busted out.
Replacing the windows cost $600. In the meantime, the windows of her shop were boarded up, much like the closed restaurants across the nearby streets.
“It’s just another expense during COVID,” Terry said.
But Terry said she’s been making 90% of her goals — a symbol of hope.
As many fought for racial equality and an end to systemic racism, special attention was given to Black-owned small businesses. Posts on Instagram circulated on Black-owned restaurants to visit and support in the Triangle, which included JC’s Kitchen.
“We were extremely busy on Blackout day,” Terry said. “But we still had those that have been supporting — the regular customers.”
There is an effort to save these businesses during the recession. The Black Chamber of Commerce and City of Durham centralized information on loans, grants and technical assistance. Broderick said they consulted 217 businesses.
“Quite often when things like this happen, our people go in their own little corners and try to figure it out themselves,” Broderick said. “So we connect the dots.”
‘It’s who we are’
U.S. Census Worker Connie Covell walks into JC’s Kitchen. She’s in the neighborhood collecting surveys in the new apartment complexes and finally decided to stop inside JC’s — she says she’s admired its murals for years.
“I’ve been in Durham for 10 years and I’m amazed (JC’s Kitchen) still standing,” she says. “It’s still here, it’s still survived all these years.”
The takeout order is not for herself. There’s a homeless man outside near the bus stop, and she wants to buy him lunch.
“Where is he sitting?” Terry asks.
There are many homeless people her customers feed, Terry said, upholding the Christian principles of giving. She recognizes many of them, and there are two who are outside constantly.
Terry throws in a bag of vegetables so the homeless man near the bus stop can have something healthy to eat.
“I’ve been having to give away a lot of food these days,” she says. “It’s who we are.”
