“I grew up with my grandparents in the country. They were sharecroppers. I tried to help them pick cotton: more like picking at it and putting it in my grandmother’s sack. Half of the time, she was pulling me on the sack. Close to noon, I would get water at the pump and bring it for them to dip and drink. That was some good, cold water. 

I started working in the first grade, cleaning up a nightclub that stayed open all night. The next morning, beer bottles and cigarettes were all over the place. Sometimes I found guns or money on the floor and put them all on the counter.  My grandmother told me, ‘Don’t take nothing from nobody.’

I came to Mobile on the back of a truck in the third grade–barefoot and couldn’t read. I can go from that point to today and thank God for how far I have come. I grew up watching my grandparents kill hogs and make ribs. I later made my own barbeque with fire, smoke, and love. I started cooking it for my family, and then on the side at a flea market in Mobile. I made Saucy Q Bar B Que for 36 years.  

I rented my first restaurant at Five Points in Mobile, but I wanted my own building and to stop paying rent. I found this restaurant on Government Street. I parked. The building looked like it had a halo over it. This became the mothership for Saucy Q. We were in this building for twenty years. 

I got a thrill from watching customers eat my food and the look of amazement after they bit into a rib. The food companies tried to sell us buckets of pre-made potato salad and coleslaw, but we made everything from scratch-even boiling and peeling the potatoes for the potato salad. 

People may forget what you did and said, but they’ll never forget the food you served them. My customers called me the GOAT of Mobile barbeque. 

I believe that God appointed my destination, and I entertained angels unaware. I gathered the employees in a prayer circle every morning before we opened and every night when we closed. The homeless would come by, and I would fix them a sandwich or something to eat. If I saw someone digging through the dumpster, I invited them to come around to the restaurant. I’m also a Vietnam veteran and gave veterans a place to meet, helping when I could.

I once had three locations and fifty employees. We went through the oil spill, hurricane Katrina, and COVID. Employment got harder. The government spoiled people giving out so much money during the oil spill and COVID. It got harder to find and keep employees. Prices went up, and the restaurant business started to run me ragged. Folks in this business are gamblers: We gamble on how much food to cook and how many customers will come in. All of that took a toll on me. 

I decided about a year ago that it was time to retire. My last day was Labor Day. This is the first time I’ve never worked, but I still cook everyday for my wife Jacquelyn. We’ve been together for 57 years of love, pain, and happiness.

I feel bad for my customers who loved this place, but I’m at peace. I get up every morning and walk my dog. The exercise makes me feel better. I’m relaxed and at ease. In the mornings, I want to take a chair out and fish. I want to see my 99-year-old aunt in California and my relatives in New York. It’s time to get on my tractor and work in my yard.

I still come to the restaurant to check the mail and clean up. People still stop by and ask me what’s going on. I’m trying to say thank you to all of our customers.   

There were a lot of hard things in this business, but I didn’t give up on what I wanted. Sitting here feels good. We accomplished a lot in this restaurant, and I followed the path God laid out for me. So when I get to heaven’s door and the bells start ringing, I think He will say, ‘Come on in.’

Elbert Wingfield

Here’s the first story I did on Mr. Wingfield five years ago.

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Mr. Wingfield’s story is part of The Weavers series on Our Southern Souls. Stories about the people who stitch together the fabric of society while so many forces pull it apart. Who are the folks who make life a little better in your community? Send me their names and a little about them, and I’ll try to talk with them.

Lynn