PHOTO ABOVE: STEVEN FORSTER | Charlie Sims, the co-owner and chef of the sorely missed Donna’s Bar and Grill, passed away on February 5, 2017 at the age of 81. There will be a memorial celebrating his life on Saturday, March 4, 2017 at 11 AM at the historic Carver Theater, which is located at 2101 Orleans Avenue. A jazz funeral procession will follow.
From 1993 to 2010, Donna’s Bar and Grill was the center of the brass community in New Orleans. Charlie worked in the kitchen creating culinary masterpieces informed by his years working on the “City of New Orleans” Amtrak train and traveling between his home in Chicago and the Crescent City. His wife, Donna, was usually behind the bar serving up drinks to a steady stream of visitors and locals.
I was one of those regulars and spent most of my Mondays between May 1, 1995, when Kermit Ruffins and the BBQ Swingers began a weekly residency, and June 29, 1998 when Ruffins played his last bittersweet night, at Donna’s. Most of those “Monday dates” I could be found dancing next to the kitchen window as Charlie served up food and listened attentively to the band during every lull in service. Our eyes would meet knowingly after many a moving solo and he would break out his broad grin.
Though old enough to be my father and the grandfather of many of the young brass band musicians who gravitated to Donna’s particularly after a day working for tips on the streets of the French Quarter, Sims had a rapport with the younger generations. He kept control of the vibe in the joint, as he liked to call it, without ever needing to be stern. He was a live-and-let-live kind of man. He had gravitas.
Charlie loved jazz and he loved the musicians who performed at his club. Elder statesmen like “Uncle” Lionel Batiste and Earl Turbinton felt free to cut up in the place. Young cats still in high school like Irvin Mayfield and Jason Marsalis got early tastes of the intergenerational jam sessions that make New Orleans unique. Facing down masters like Elliot “Stackman” Callier, Frederick “Shep” Shepard, and Roger Lewis, they learned the tricks and turns of old school cutting contests.
Leroy Jones, Corey Henry, Shannon Powell, Bob French, Evan Christopher, James Andrews, Delfeayo Marsalis, Gregg Stafford, and many others graced the stage over the years. Troy “Trombone Shorty” Andrews, Travis “Trumpet Black” Hill, and Glenn David Andrews played there before they were even teenagers. Mardi Gras Indians would pop in off the streets, drop a verse or two of the black Indian songs, and disappear like a feather in the wind.
Through it all Charlie was at his window. Sometimes he would land a few notes on the waitress bell he usually used to announce a burger or sandwich was ready. And when the band was on break, he invited his friends into the kitchen where he held forth like the philosopher he was at heart.
There are countless stories about Charlie Sims, but one bears repeating here. He was a laid back guy and few people in those early days knew about his career in the Navy and the fact that he was the first black cook on a U.S. submarine.
My parents were visiting New Orleans and Charlie and my Dad got into an animated discussion sitting at the bar waiting for the band to start. They had their heads together as modern jazz, Charlie’s first love, resounded from the jukebox.
My mother and I got ever more curious about the subject until we finally broke into the conversation. Of all the subjects in the world, they were talking about being in the Navy at the same time. As the circle of connections widened through time and space they had figured out that at one point in the late 1950s they both participated in the same war game exercise in the North Atlantic Ocean. My father was flying a submarine-hunting airplane that was chasing Charlie’s submarine.
Talk about a small world. But that’s how it was with Charlie. Everyone was his friend. He drew you into his confidences and once inside you were changed forever. Thanks Charlie!
