Luau-Exterior2
Longtime readers of this column know that it has been my life's mission to find a decent photo of the Luau. This curiously designed restaurant, right across Poplar from East High School, was one of the most popular dining establishments in Memphis in the 1960s and 1970s. Even the Lauderdales, on those rare evenings when we ventured out into public, dined there, captivated by its unusual menu and South Pacific theme.
But we, along with our fellow diners, apparently never bothered to photograph the place. Of course, back then, lugging a camera around branded you as a tourist, unlike today when every person on earth carries a "smart phone" with them. But even then, do you bother to take a photo of the actual buildings where you dine? More likely, it's selfies or closeups of the food, which won't be much help for the Vance Lauderdales of the future.
Now, there's a scary thought.
Anyway, I had of course already searched through library archives, and even found vague images of the place in some high school yearbooks. Years ago, somebody sent me a nice color postcard of the rather dark and cluttery interior. But nothing that I would call a decent photo, until i came across a 1964 yearbook for Southside High School in Memphis, and in the back was a the double-page image of the restaurant you see here.
Southside, located on Prospect Avenue in the southern part of this city, is nowhere near the Luau, but for whatever reason, they drove here and took this photo. Perhaps they just wanted a decent backdrop for their yearbook staff (shown here posed in, and next to, the nice Chrysler Imperial). [What am I saying?? OF COURSE, it's a 1959 Cadillac, as various readers have pointed out.]
The image shows the distinctive roofline of this "authentic" Polynesian building, and as you can see, it was part of the Dobbs House family of restaurants. The structure originally began life in the 1950s as a fairly basic-looking family eatery called Freidel's, then was modified considerably when restaurateur John George Morris bought it and changed the name to "The Old Master Says" and even — so I've written — installed a 14-foot bust of his own head on the roof.
But these days, it is best remembered as the Luau. I have only two complaints about this photo. First of all, I wish it were in color, so you could see how eye-catching this place was, with its bright-orange roof. And second, even though this is a good angle, I wish the photographer had stood on the other side of that jutting entrance pavilion, so you could see the giant stone head that stood by the front door.
That head is barely — and I mean barely — visible here, with the top of its rounded skull sticking up above the roofline, and part of its lower "face" barely visible below.
This photo was used to introduce the advertising section of the 1964 Southside High School Scrapper yearbook, but the kids in the car (below) aren't identified. Does anybody recognize them?