Voo Swar to be renamed in honor of Earnest Davis

Every day, Lewis Washington walks in his father’s footsteps. He has walked the same path since he was just a kid, tracing his dad’s steps from their home to the front of door of the Voo Swar Restaurant and Lounge, opened nearly 60 years ago by his dad, Earnest Davis. Established in 1963, the business serves as an anchor in the community and a tangible monument to his father’s vision.
When Davis died June 1, 2019, just two days shy of his 88th birthday, Washington, who is the youngest of Davis’ 12 children, took over operations and the commitment to keep the place humming, just like his father taught him.
Washington, 34, and the youngest of his siblings, runs things just as his father did, down to the signature ribs and famous chicken wings. But there is one change he is willing to make. This summer, he will commemorate the establishment’s 57th anniversary by officially changing the name to Mr. E’s Voo Swar. But first, he plans to honor his hero with the dedication of a new headstone at noon Saturday at Beaches Memorial Gardens at 1500 Main Street in Atlantic Beach.
Over the past year, Washington raised the funds to create the custom marker as a lasting monument to the man who built his own legacy brick by brick at 51 Roberts Street.
The celebration is open to the community Davis cared for like family.
“It’s going to be a birthday celebration and a headstone reveal to the family and friends. My dad, he doesn’t have a headstone right now, so they’re going to present it to everyone at one time,” said Washington. “I didn’t want to do it privately because there are so many people that played a role so I want to do it as a family. Everyone is family to me because they’ve all been here with my dad through thick and thin. Even through this COVID-19, they’ve still been coming up and supporting us so that’s why I want to make sure everyone is a part of it. They meant as much to my dad as he meant to them.”
Davis’ chair is centered among a lifetime of memories framed by photographs and the notable achievements including the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Award for Legends, Pioneers and Trailblazers presented to him in April 14 in recognition of his contributions to the African American community. On the wall, the wooden top of his table is emblazoned with the business name in honor of a dream realized.
It is a fitting tribute, but it was also the only way Washington could keep people from sitting in the chair reserved for his dad. Even chained to a beam, customers would still try and snatch the chair from beneath his table. Mounting it to the wall was a fitting tribute, “It was something he would’ve done,” laughed his son.
Joe Black remembers walking by the property, choked by waist-high weeds and seeing Earnest Davis alone carving out the thick brush. It was back-breaking labor, but he was impressed by Davis’ grit and determination.
“I grew up here. I remember when Mayport Road was two lanes,” said Black. “One day I was walking through the path here when none of this was built and he was standing in the weeds slinging grass. I said Earnest, ‘that’s a lot of work.’ And he said ‘Joe, I’m not going to work for nobody no more’.”
One day he passed by and witnessed Davis climbing down from a scaffolding to refill a five-gallon bucket of wet concrete to haul back up the metal rigging where a short wall was growing, bucket by bucket. Black said, “I’ll tell you what bro. You get up on the scaffolding and I’ll hand it up to you.”
From that day forward, the pair formed a water-tight bond. Mr. E, as he was known to friends and customers, shared freely of his wisdom – and his vision. Black hosted the annual New Year’s Eve party and promoted events in the dance hall space that opens unexpectedly from the modest front room with a bar, juke box, a handful of tables and art deco booths salvaged from the old Le Chateau Hotel.
“He was so full of wisdom. He didn’t really get fair treatment from the city because being black at the time, trouble could happen three or four blocks away but it would be his fault,” said Black. “I said ‘Earnest, why don’t you just close the doors. And he said ‘Joe, if I close this down, these people would have no place to go.’ But he fought through it and here it is. I never forgot that.”
Black recalls how Davis walked every day from his house to the front door of the Voo Swar. Not long after, Washington would take the same path, often wearing one of the starched shirts favored by his father. The sleeves swallowed his small frame, fingertips peeking out from rolled sleeves.
“He was built for this and his daddy taught him everything he knew. I used to tell him all the time that one day this is going to be yours. I had no doubt in my mind,” Black said. “He’s the new generation. Mr. Ernest took it as far as he could take it. At some point, you got to change with time. The dance is still the same, just the steps are a little bit different. It was time for him to pass the torch and he was trained for this. When I tasted that barbecue sauce and tried them ribs, I knew he was complete.”
“Iconic legend” – those are the words Washington feels best describe his father’s legacy. The Voo Swar was his whole world, his life, a place he dreamed of where to come together, gather and have a good time.
“And it means the same to me,” said Washington. “My dad had a vision. Some of the stuff people would junk and trash, he would go get it and make something out of it. People would laugh at him and say ‘He ain’t never going to get that done.’”
Growing up, Washington stood beside his dad as he brought his vision to life. He worked tirelessly, seven days a week, often seeing his customers more than he did his own family.
“They built a bond,” he said.
Retired Navy veteran Sam Royster did not grow up in Atlantic Beach. The Sylvester, Ga., native landed here during his naval career, but walking into the Voo Swar feels like home.
“He started building the place from a small ditch and he wanted all the sailors to come. I’m a sailor and he took me in,” he said. “He took everybody in. He fathered a lot of us.
“When I first met him back in 1988, he had almost all of it done. He just didn’t have all the particulars the way he wanted. Little by little he would add on. What I thought was junk was really something. When he put it to work, I said ‘Wow, I threw away all that’? And he said, ‘Yes sir’. His dream wasn’t necessarily my dream but he had a vision,” recalled Royster.
“The city had a different perception of the place. We had meetings with different mayors and finally they saw that we were sincere. Just because it’s in a place with some undesirable elements don’t make him in charge of it.”
Davis pressed on, rising above the struggles and sweat, tuning out the negativity and keeping his vision in focus.
“He handled the criticism well. I’m sure it hurt him but he would not be denied. He was relentless. He’d come here every day, seven days a week. His vision, his dream. It was so powerful that it could not be denied,” Royster said. “He always wanted it to be kept for the community. He gave back to the community although they didn’t understand what he had for him until right now. You don’t miss the well until it run dry.”
In 2009, Washington was still working a day job. At that time, the Voo Swar did not open until 5 p.m. Friends would constantly tell him that his cooking was good enough that he could leave that day job if his dad would agree to open for lunch.
“I said something to my dad and he said ‘Lewis, I’ve been telling you that. You don’t need to go nowhere. You can make it right here,’” he said.
After Davis was diagnosed with colon cancer, Washington took him to his doctor appointments and radiation treatments. A biting remark suggesting Davis “was a grown man who should run his own business” fueled Washington’s decision to follow in his father’s footsteps and be his own boss.
“I said right then and there I wasn’t ever going to work for anybody again,” Washington recalled. “I came here and I’ve been here ever since.”
Washington is grateful for the community support, especially through the challenge of COVID-19. He created a $5 lunch special as an affordable option during the lean economic times. It helped bring in new business, but he believes his dad had something to do with it.
“It’s a blessing. I’m sure my dad’s up there like ‘Go to the Voo Swar,’” he smiled. “I learned from him. He had the wisdom and advice that people wanted. I think about him every day and I dream about him probably almost every night. We walk the same steps every day. All day every day.”