‘They never fell out of love’: Former Green’s Lunch owner dies with beloved wife by his side at 94
Philip Katopodis fell in love with his wife the moment he saw her, and his last words were her name.
On Sept. 26, Katopodis died with his wife and children by his side. The former owner of Charlotte’s oldest restaurant, Green’s Lunch, was 94 years old.
Katopodis immigrated to Charlotte on Thanksgiving day in 1956, and ever since his family celebrated his arrival to America on the holiday. Always humble, Katopodis was constantly grateful for the chance to build a good life for his family in the states, daughter Jerri Holevas told The Charlotte Observer.
At 28, Katopodis’ uncle brought him across the Atlantic and landed him a job at a drapery business in Charlotte. During his decades here, he owned several local restaurants and started his own family.
Katopodis was a storyteller, Holevas said, and one of his favorite tales to tell his children was the story of meeting their mother.
On a trip back to Greece in 1962, Katopodis stepped off a bus in his native Lefkada and saw Maria Vrettos waiting at the village bus stop for her aunt. She insists she didn’t notice him; he told his children that it was love at first sight.
The week before, Maria had turned down a proposal from a Canadian, the story goes. Her father, who was working as a mechanic at sea, had left with instructions to allow her to marry anyone she chose – certain that nobody would convince her to leave the island.
But Katopodis got a friend to introduce him to her family, Holevas said, and within a week the couple was married. Though they barely knew each other, Maria later told their daughters that she trusted him because he always spoke kindly.
A month later they arrived in Charlotte, where the pair had three daughters and a series of thriving restaurants.
The most famous was Green’s Lunch, Charlotte’s oldest eatery, The Observer has reported. When Katopodis bought the legendary lunch counter from Mary “The Hot Dog Queen” Green in 1975, it consisted of a few stools and a propane-fueled kitchen that served nothing but hot dogs and Mary’s renowned chili.
The building – a tiny shack on the corner of Fourth and Mint – had thresholds lower than the sidewalk and a short ceiling that forced customers to stoop. Fed up with the flooding and cramped quarters that plagued his customers and employees, Katopodis paid construction workers to labor through the night on a new building in the same spot.
Along with the wraparound counter and brand-new booths, Maria insisted on one key change: a single door. When it opened in 1926, Green’s was one of the few Charlotte restaurants that served customers regardless of race. But while white patrons could sit at the counter, the original owner had Black customers use a side door and take their orders to-go.
Even in the 1970s, a longtime regular kept the habit of walking past the main door and using the one he’d been relegated to before desegregation. When Maria asked him why, she was horrified to realize her family’s restaurant still held memories of segregation.
“From now on, we have one door,” Holevas remembers her mother insisting. “Everyone uses the same door; everyone’s equal at Green’s.”
Katopodis agreed, and worked a single entrance into the plans.
Naysayers complained that the new building would strip Green’s of its charm. But Katopodis proved them wrong, continuing to sling hot dogs over the counter to the bankers, lawyers and construction workers who swarmed Uptown Charlotte at lunchtime.
In 1989, Katopodis sold the restaurant to his daughter Joanna Sikiotis, sharing the top-secret chili recipe as part of the deal. He’d intended to retire, but couldn’t bring himself to slow down just yet, Holevas said. Instead, he and Maria opened a second Green’s location while their daughter expanded the menu at the original location. By then they were experienced restaurant owners, having run Cloverleaf, Zois Deli and Meadowview restaurant.
Ten years ago, Philip and Maria celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. Even at 84, Holevas remembers, her father danced and smiled all through the night. After he died, she put a snapshot of him dancing onto her refrigerator.
“My parents, they had a real fairy tale love story,” Holevas told The Observer. “And they never fell out of love.”
Once Katopodis retired for real, he still kept active, teaching his grandchildren to help tend his precious garden and volunteering at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Cathedral. Only in the last few years did he reassign his most sacred tasks – raising the U.S. flag outside the family’s summer home in Ocean Isle and serving hot dogs at the church’s annual Yiasou festival – to his children and grandchildren, Holevas said.
Raising the flag was always the first thing Katopodis did upon arriving at the family beach house.
He loved to spoil the grandchildren, all four of whom grew up in Charlotte and treasured summer trips with their grandparents, Holevas said. If there’s one thing her father would be proud of – and he tended to insist on humility – it’s how he carved out a space for generations to thrive and stay close to each other in the city he made his home.
Katopodis is survived by his wife, two daughters, and four grandchildren.
This story was originally published October 7, 2022 at 4:01 PM.
