They ran out of meat during the Tuesday lunch rush at Harold's Barbecue on Atlanta's south side.
Normally that would be an unpardonable sin for a BBQ joint, but Harold's, which celebrates its 65th anniversary Thursday, merits a pass. It's been years since the place has seen the kind of crowds that have packed the ramshackle two-room restaurant this week.
"It's been so slow at lunch I've had time to watch ‘Bonanza' reruns," said John Hembree, the 50-year-old grandson of the restaurant's namesake, Harold Hembree. Another of Harold's grandsons, Billy Branyon, runs the restaurant, now owned by his mother, Kay Branyon.
Last week, Billy met with the staff -- mostly family members -- to announce what seemed inevitable to them all: Harold's would be closing for good.
"It didn't seem like we had a choice," he said. "We used to go through 15 to 20 hams a day. Lately, we were barely going through one."
There wasn't even enough money to pay the phone bill, Branyon said.
But when word spread last Thursday that Harold's was shuttering, customers returned in droves -- enough to have bought a reprieve for the beloved eatery.
"Hugh Hefner has the only other job I'd want, so I hope we can keep it going," said Billy Branyon, adding that Harold's will stay open for "at least a month, hopefully longer."
"We're seeing people we haven't seen in years," he said.
Some had thought the treasured BBQ joint had already folded after the 2008 death of Harold Hembree Jr. and the closing of the Harold's in McDonough some 25 miles away. The original Harold's, which opened May 3, 1947, is on McDonough Boulevard.
Others just wanted to savor one last helping of its signature Brunswick stew or a side of cracklin' cornbread. The late Atlanta Journal-Constitution columnist Lewis Grizzard was such a fan that, after relocating briefly to Chicago, he'd have friends fly up to Illinois to deliver a taste of Harold's.
Sixty two-year-old Kirby Colvard drove up from Griffin, roughly two hours round-trip, for what he thought would be his last meal ever at the lunchtime institution.
"My aunt sent me and my cousin up here to get some," Colvard said. His to-go order included a pound each of pork and beef BBQ. "First time I came here was 1979, I think. It looked just the same."
And, longtime patrons say, it looked no different when it opened 65 years ago -- quite an accomplishment in ever-changing Atlanta, where only a handful of restaurants, such as The Colonnade in Midtown and the Busy Bee Cafeteria in West End, have been around as long as Harold's.
But Harold's location will continue to present a challenge. The reliable mix of customers it once attracted worked in nearby plants and business that no longer exist.
"This part of town is just dead," said David Smith, who has been cutting meat at Harold's for 35 years. The 56-year-old Atlanta native said he can't imagine working anywhere else.
"I hope this isn't just a fluke," said Smith as he surveyed the overflow crowd inside the aging wood frame.
John Hembree said he's optimistic Harold's will defy the odds.
"It was real depressing a week ago, but seeing all these people turn out has really been something," he said. "Southern people, when you call out, they'll come help. That's what's happened here."
Besides, Hembree said, "this is all we know. This place has been our whole lives. We're too old to go try something new."
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