I WAS WALKING PAST ZABUMBA yesterday morning with my camera on a coffee run, and tried to take a picture of the place for a story I was planning to write on here about how Palms has so many Brazilian businesses but so few Brazilians. My camera battery was dead so I decided to leave the story for next week, but I noticed a few news crews milling around the front. Later that evening my boy Chris Clarke called me and told me why they were there. Now I'm just glad I didn't write that story. For once, technology failed me right on time.
I spoke to Monica a couple of times on the phone over the years about throwing events at Zabumba, and she was behind the bar here and there during the handful of times I've dipped my head in there. I didn't know Monica, and I really don't know Zabumba. Ever since I moved into this neighborhood I've had a note on my phone that reads "take free salsa lessons at Zabumba". I guess it's a classic case of not knowing what you've got till it's gone. Hopefully it will have a life after its owner's passing, but that's for another day. For now, I'll just dedicate my set tonight at Saints & Sinners to Monica Beresford-Redman, the late owner of Zabumba, a Palms nightclub that got this neighborhood popping way before half of us could even find it on a map.
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