'It's the last of the last': An iconic Puerto Rican social club in New York is fighting to survive the pandemic
- The Caribbean Social Club, known as Toñita's, is one of the last remaining Puerto Rican social clubs in New York City.
- The pandemic has forced the club to close, and its future is uncertain as the city slowly reopens.
- Owner Maria Antonia Cay has been serving up free homemade food on Sundays to anyone who passes by the club.
Catching a glimpse of Maria Antonia Cay's dazzling rings is a main appeal at Toñita's, one of the last Puerto Rican social clubs in New York City.
Cay, better known as Toñita, has been running the club for decades.
On a normal Saturday night, she'd stand behind the bar selling $3 Coronas. The small club would be crowded, bodies smashed together. Loud music would play until 4 a.m.
But today the room is empty, the coronavirus having stifled nightlife in all corners of the city. And the future of the Caribbean Social Club, as it's officially named, is uncertain even as the city slowly reopens.
Still, Toñita has found ways to keep going.
"Thank God we are still fine," Cay, speaking in Spanish, told Business Insider Today. "Almost always you see them come by the window. They call out, 'Toñita, Toñita, how are you? When will we return?' One of these days, when the politicians say."
The club opened in 1973 in Brooklyn's South Williamsburg neighborhood, then a thriving Puerto Rican enclave known as "Los Sures." It's survived years of gentrification and spiking rents, but Toñita and security guard Hector Torres have never seen anything like this pandemic.
"In the beginning she was like a little worried, because having to slow down — she don't slow down for nothing," Torres said. "She was always the one that gives everybody hope. People get frustrated, look confused, and she pushes, 'No, no, no, no, todo está bien.'"
Throughout the lockdown, Toñita has not stopped cooking food that she gives away for free to anyone who stops by on Sundays — a tradition she's done for as long as she can remember. The day of the Puerto Rican Day Parade last month, she served sausage, red beans, and rice.
Outside the club, revelers played music, danced, and barbecued together to commemorate the day.
The Caribbean Social Club opened in 1973. At first it was mostly a baseball clubhouse, and local ballplayers would come through with wives, girlfriends, and family. Over the years, it's alternately served as a bar, a game room, and even a charity kitchen.
But Saturday night, when it transforms into a dance floor, draws the biggest crowds of all.
"It's unexplainable. There's so many people in there that are crowded on top of another with no room. The heat is tremendous, but nobody wants to leave," Torres said. "And I have a hundred people outside waiting to go in. There's no fights, no arguments. People just come together from all different cultures and enjoy the night."
The walls are filled with framed memories and knickknacks that visitors from all over have left behind.
And for many patrons, talking to Toñita can be the highlight of the night.
"I even asked her for her blessing, which is in Spanish, we would say 'bendición,'" Alana Sola, a regular at the club, told Business Insider Today. " It's what you would do to your aunt, you will ask it to your mom, your dad. She even gives it to you, even if she doesn't remember who you are. So that to me feels like home."
When Toñita serves up Coronas, people are drawn to the colorful rings of different figurines that adorn her fingers — today she's wearing a rooster, an owl, a kitten, a rabbit, and a lamb, among others. The rings, like her personality, have become something everyone remembers.
As New York City enters its third phase of reopening, businesses will be required to implement social distancing restrictions.
Toñita's is already a small place, so visiting in the near future may be only for those willing to take a risk. But as long as Toñita is standing, so is the club that bears her name.
"It's historic for Williamsburg. It's just the last of the last," Torres said. "There ain't nothing else."