The competition was fierce for lucrative local counsel fees when it became to risky to off load contraband in Florida and out-of-state criminal defense lawyers migrated north to Charleston with the smugglers. My friend Bobby Howe snared a good share of the market by earning the reputation for being the most fun lawyer to associate in Charleston. As usual Bobby’s modis operandi for snagging such fees was unique.
One of those hot shot lawyers who found his way to Charleston was Tony Hernandez from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Despite his Hispanic sounding name, he didn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in him and dressed more like a Texan than slickster Floridian lawyer. Tony’s failure to actually win a case in court appeared to do little to prevent him from having a limitless supply of drug smuggling clients and an expense account to match. When in town he ordered the most expensive menu items at Charleston’s trendiest restaurants. Two or three hundred dollar bottles of wine? No problem, Tony would order three or four bottles just to get the dinner started.
Since Tony wore snake skin cowboy boots, Bobby donned his dimpled ostrich skin cowboy boots and tracked him down to invite Tony to Ms. Pearl’s Oakview Lunch for a promised unforgettable Lowcountry culinary experience. Ms. Pearl’s was a totally illegal and unlicensed restaurant a twenty minute drive outside of Charleston on the back side of James Island. It was located on a quiet back street of a residential neighborhood and operated out of the back of Ms. Pearl’s double car garage she converted into a makeshift restaurant by moving a refrigerator, stove, and an old kitchen table into it and plugging all the appliances into a questionable wall socket. She constructed a rudimentary counter out of 2 by 4’s and plywood where 4 or 5 customers could sit and eat lunch but the bulk of her bustling business was takeout orders placed by local police, fireman, and power company linemen who liked the price and the food so much, they were willing to turn a blind eye to the health, safety, and fire code violations. The oak view part of the name of Ms. Pearl’s restaurant came from the view when she opened her garage doors. If you turned around from the counter and looked back down her driveway, you looked across the street through a large oak tree drapped in Spanish Moss before the view opened onto the lush, green marsh.
Ms. Pearl’s didn’t have a menu. When you asked what was for lunch, Ms. Pearl would she simply reply, “Fries.” It might be fried fish, fried chicken, or, my favorite, fried pork chops depending on whatever was on sale at the Piggly Wiggly that morning. You paid whatever Ms. Pearl thought you could afford. We figured lawyers in business suits like us paid roughly double what everyone else paid. As self-respecting lawyers we’d have fussed about about her pricing but it was still the best lunch value in town and Ms. Pearl’s fries were mouthwateringly delicious.
All meals at the Oakview were served in styrofoam folding boxes and came with your choice of greens, mac and cheese, and cornbread, no substitutions. Ms. Pearl, a thin, wiry woman, in her late 50’s or early 60’s, it was hard to tell, was the sole employee. She moved like a perpetual motion machine frying the food, packaging dinners, pouring drinks, and running the cash drawer. The way she managed to cook 10 or more meals at a time and still get each one golden brown, moist, and delicious was nothing short of divine intervention.
Bobby’s idea of impressing hot shot out-of-town lawyers like Tony wasn’t to take them to Marianne’s, the trendy French restaurant at the time, he took them to Ms. Pearl’s. When Tony first saw Ms. Pearl’s his first thought was it was just another example of Bobby earning his reputation for being plumb crazy but, as soon as he savored the first bite of Ms. Pearl’s delicious fries, Bobby had the referral fee sewn up. Tony hungrily devoured every morsel of Ms. Pearl’s lunch. He may not have been the best lawyer Bobby and I ever entertained but, I’ll give him his due, he sure was a talker. He sweet-talked a great big smile on Ms. Pearl’s face praising her cooking. A smile that lasted right up until it came time to pay the bill and Tony made a big production of pulling his gold American Express card out of his wallet and announcing he was paying for our meals. That smile on Ms. Pearls face instantly faded as she sternly said, “Oh, noooooo, I’s like cash da best.” Bobby and I busted up laughing and, wouldn’t you know it, money bags Tony was flush out of cash. As Bobby withdrew his cash to pay the bill, he brought Ms. Pearl’s smile back by announcing, “Cash, don’t leave home without it.”
“Cash, don’t leave home without it” became one of the short hand ways Bobby had for retelling a story. Everytime I’d offer too pay for something with a credit card, he’d say it and we’d both get a good laugh thinking of Ms. Pearl’s Oakview Lunch, her d4licious food, lucrative lawyer fees, and happy times from our past.
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