Zelma Calhoun made some great pies. Though she did not work in a factory, and this is no “pie-p” dream, estimates are that she made more than 650,000 of the baked treats. This is just another of the reasons and stories why those of us in the South may seem to worship at the altar of Chick-fil-A (CFA).
When I was a freshman at the University of Georgia in Athens, I witnessed a curious and somewhat regular happening on Sundays following almost every UGA Dawgs home game on a Saturday. There were no elevators, only stairs at our dorm, where my roommates and I had a corner room at the end of a long hall on the fourth floor.
On Sundays after games, a slight and spritely elderly and bald man, with a big smile on his face, would come walking up the stairs, and then down that long hall, hauling more than anyone probably should carry, in neatly stacked and stringtied boxes, of what I would soon learn were incredibly delicious, near-freshly-baked pies. That man was Truett Cathy, founder and then owner of a successful but modest chain of primarily mall-food-court restaurants called Chick-fil-A.
I was fortunate to grow up near one of their first locations at North DeKalb Mall in the early 1980s when you could count the CFA stores on a handful of hands, even before the first free-standing CFA location – also nearby that mall shop – had not yet opened.
At the original store, called “The Dwarf House,” opened in 1949 by Cathy – twice remodeled and still serving huge crowds and quantities each week on the diner & grille side, as well as at a standard Chick-Fil-A restaurant inside – there is now also a mini-bakery and pie shop, named for Ms. Calhoun.
Cathy was already on his way, decades before becoming a billionaire, yet on those football Saturdays, he could still drive around to every CFA location in a few hours.
All CFAs and the famed Dwarf House were closed on Sundays, and beyond the apparent apple and peach, there was a decent amount of dairy and cream in all the other signature pies. So, not wanting them to go to waste and knowing those few day-old pies were NOT going to be sold as “fresh” to his customers on Monday, Cathy would take the time to make the store rounds after the dinner rush each Saturday, gathering up all of the unsold pies.
Cathy, a devout Christian and thrifty survivor of the Depression, did what was practical and faithful for him by gathering up all those pies for redistribution. Coincidentally, the first of many Cathy family foster children, Woody Faulk, lived in my dorm hall, on my floor at Reed Hall at UGA, next door to Sanford Stadium. Truett was hauling those pies to Woody and any of his hungry friends.
Those lemon, chocolate, and coconut creme pies were to die for! Fried apple and peach pies were later menu additions, with Ms. Zelma serving as the lead baker for 45 years. Toward the end of her professional baking career, she personally made more than 100 pies per day. While still in high school, Truett Cathy hired Zelma Murphy Calhoun in 1954 to work at the Dwarf House in Hapeville.
When she decided to retire in 2000, Truett Cathy gave Ms. Zelma a brand-new Ford Mustang as a parting gift. Looking like new, that car still sits in her driveway as she transitioned this past week at age 89. As the Dwarf House went through a second major remodeling in 2022, the new pie shop, just inside the entrance, was named in her honor, and in the large kitchen, which serves two dining rooms, she is a star on the Dwarf House Wall of Fame.
A letter from Truett Cathy, which accompanied that Mustang, is a family keepsake. Just last year, at 88 years old, Ms. Zelma returned for one last stint of baking, to give the new pie shop with her name on the wall and just inside her beloved work home one more tour of duty. They were lined up around the building to taste one of those pies!
The bakery in heaven just got a significant upgrade. I imagine Mr. Cathy will give her the entire tour, if not already. Please save me one slice of that lemon pie, Miss Zelma, assuming I eventually make it to your counter.