Paul Bass Photo
Barry Berman, who has been drinking Clark’s Dairy shakes since his grandparents brought him there as a kid, wanted one more black-and-white before the venerable Whitney Avenue spot forever closed its doors. He just made it.
Berman and his son Danny also snagged the last sandwiches before Enrique Flores cleaned the grill for the last time at a favorite breakfast, lunch, and late-night hangout for New Haveners from presidents to politicians, professors to students, and workers of white, blue, and pink collars alike.
The Bermans joined a band of Clark’s lifers for a wistful final round as the Whitney Avenue luncheonette closed its doors for good at 4 p.m. Sunday. Hugs were as plentiful as French fries as loyal customers like Sophie and Cyrus Gibson (pictured) posed for photos with beloved waitress Mary Hying. Hying, a Liverpool native, has served generations of the same families (such as the Gibsons) over 35 years at Clark’s.
Clark’s Dairy fell victim to the recession, a stroke suffered by main owner Tony Mihalakos, and increased competition in a revived downtown. The Mihalakos family, Greek immigrants, began running the restaurant in 1962. (Click here to read a previous story about the closing and some folks’ reminiscences.) But what a run it was — as attested to at Sunday afternoon’s festive, if wistful, last repast.
The Bermans almost didn’t make it.
Barry, who grew up in Westville and today runs a media company called CRN International, was on his way from his East Rock home to Hamden’s Home Depot to buy 60 Watt Candelabra bulbs for his side porch. Then he remembered: Clark’s is about to close.
It was 3:35. He called the restaurant from his cell phone.
Is today the last day? he asked.
Yes it is, he was told — and the doors close at 4.
Berman turned the car around. He called his son Danny, a high school junior who was home studying for final exams.
“Get out of the house!” Barry said. “Start walking.” He’d pick Danny up.
“You’re not going to make it,” Danny said, as Barry pulled up to let him in at Canner and St. Ronan streets.
They parked on Temple Street and hurried through the alley in the middle of the block where the Bryn Mawr used bookstore used to be. It was still around 3:45 when they walked through the front door — only to learn the grill was closed.
Please, Barry asked: One more sandwich?
The Clark’s crew obliged. Barry ordered a chicken souvlaki. He also ordered a black-and-white (chocolate and vanilla) milkshake; he originally ordered chocolate shakes as a kid when his grandparents took him to Clark’s, then switched in the 1970s to black-and-whites.
Danny ordered his regular, grilled cheese and tomato. He’s been ordering it since he was a kid, coming to Clark’s with his friends from Foote School.
Barry reminisced about coming to the luncheonette with Danny after a Foote kindergarten function. The place was full of Foote families, of course. “Don’t you wish you could freeze-dry your kid at this age?” one parent remarked at the time.
“Here I am years later,” Berman reflected Sunday. “Same table, same kid,” only older.
Hying brought the sandwiches mere minutes after they were ordered. Enrique Flores (pictured), who cooked them, wiped the grill, as he has for the last 16 years. He was in a nostalgic mood. He and Hying will be working next door at the Mihalakos’s other restaurant. But he’ll miss the Dairy, where he cooked inches away from the regular customers at the stools or nearby tables.
“I’m very sad,” Flores said. “Here you talk to the people” while you work.
Barry and Danny tore into their sandwiches (Danny at thrice his dad’s speed). The verdict: “Delicious!”
Meanwhile, Theano Mihalakos (pictured) prepared Barry’s black-and-white, a mixture of chocolate and vanilla. It was the last of innumerable shakes she’s mixed since she began hanging around her father’s restaurant at 12 years old.
“You think we should have a sit-in” to keep the Dairy open? asked Sarah Hamlin, who brought the crew flowers (pictured at the top of the story).
Instead of embarking on a civil-disobedience campaign, Hamlin took out her camera for one last photo of her children with Mary Hying.
Sarah’s parents were there, too. They took her to Clark’s all the time in her childhood. Now Sarah lives in West Hartford; she’s been bringing her own children, Sophie and Cyrus Gibson, to Clark’s every time they drive down to New Haven to visit their grandparents. “It’s their favorite place.”
The same goes for Kiki Kennedy’s kids. Their family (pictured) lives in Branford. They ordered some of their favorites one last time Sunday: a greek salad and chocolate malted for Kiki; cheddar, onion and green pepper omelette for son Teddy; grilled cheese and moose tracks ice cream for daughter Kiley (“Moose tracks has been my favorite since kindergarten!”); and a plate of fries for everyone to share.
Unlike Berman, Kiki knew Sunday was the Clark’s finale, and she planned ahead. Still, she, too, wasn’t sure she’d make it. “I was in Rhode Island for an event,” she said. “I drove very fast to get here before it closed. I was glad there wasn’t an accident on 95; we wouldn’t have gotten here.”
As the Kennedys finished their meal, Berman paid his bill — and, with the management’s permission, selected a chair to bring home as a souvenir.
J. Farrell (pictured) watched from the counter. Farrell spoke of how she has been coming to Clark’s “all my life” — bringing her daughter straight over after lessons at Neighborhood Music School, or during a break at her former job at the state courthouse down the road.
“I want a stool!” she said.