Rhonda Palmeri is trailing the big dogs wearing Christmas jammies to the spot where they’ll pose for a portrait with — who else? —Santa Paws. She coos at Hollister, a scruffy pooch perched politely on a bar stool, then greets Harry, the four-legged guest bartender, who seems eager to distribute beer cans to thirsty humans.
Broadcasting live from Cook’s Corner on her phone, Palmeri ventures into the bustle outside, past the woman in the “Ride or Die” T-shirt. “Did you get your book?” Palmeri asks a toddler dangling from his mama’s arms. “It’s a Dog’s Life,” the book’s title says — the tale of a dog named Annie who was abandoned when her owners bought a new house, and how Modjeska Ranch Rescue swept in to help and she became a symbol for its senior rescue program.
Palmeri, Boss Lady at the famous biker bar for nearly a quarter century, was doing her thing as booster-in-chief a few weeks ago, talking up the local organizations and bands and events of the day on Facebook Live, inviting the whole community to crash the party. Moms, dads, kids, bikers, dogs, whatever — all are always welcome at the beloved dive that’s also the nerve center of the canyon.
Dogs are one of Palmeri’s passions. She has seven of them and runs a little nonprofit, Coco Cares, which helps pay for vet care and spay and neuter surgeries for folks who need help. She champions the Modjeska Ranch Rescue, which finds homes for abandoned animals.
She has helped host and organize rides and fundraisers and memorials for 9/11, for breast cancer care, for the Iron Workers Annual Motorcycle Toy Run, which started in the City of Industry and ended at Cook’s Corner last month (the price of admission was an unwrapped toy for needy kids).
She rode with Arnold Schwarzenegger when he was campaigning for governor. She hosted scores of exhausted firefighters battling backcountry blazes, feeding them, letting them sleep on the picnic tables. She smiled as the priest from the nearby abbey sprinkled holy water on gleaming rides during the annual Blessing of the Bikes.
“We do everything – we host weddings, funerals, nonprofit and community events, a lot of motorcycle rides,” she told motorcycle attorney Russ Brown in an August YouTube interview. “However we can help out, we’ll help out.”
Palmeri’s talents were soon to be tested more than she could possibly know.
Grace under pressure
A retired Ventura Police Department sergeant targeting his estranged wife stalked into Cook’s Corner on Aug. 23, gun in hand. He killed three and injured six on $8 Spaghetti Night.
It fell to Boss Lady to tend to her traumatized flock and keep everyone strong — despite whatever trauma she might feel herself.
“Honestly, I might cry,” she said when we asked her how this has changed her. “I know when it happened — I’ve been through trauma. I knew how they were going to feel. That was the most gut-wrenching part for me, knowing what they had to go through, making sure my staff was OK, mentally and physically. You have to turn around and be the strong one. You have to make sure everyone’s OK.”
Your own feelings, your own trauma — well, that must wait.
There was an immediate explosion of support in the community. There were candlelight vigils and benefit concerts, even as forensic investigators and caution tape still closed off the crime scene. Cook’s Corner isn’t just a bar, fans said; it’s my bar. Home away from home. The backcountry biker version of “Cheers.”
So there was a big decision to make, one that faces all establishments that have endured similar tragedies. Do we open again? Can we open again? Or is it too painful?
“My staff,” Palmeri said. “My staff came to me and they said, ‘We need to open. We need to open.’”
A little more than a week later, they did. You can see it as an affirmation of life, a refusal to be terrorized, a dogged determination to move forward — the only possible direction. Being together, being a community, sharing the grief and the love, has been an integral part of the healing.
Palmeri grew up in Rockford, Illinois, the youngest of three children. Bikes were part of life: Her grandfather, Bill Tuman, was a racer on Indian Motocycle’s famed team the “Indian Wrecking Crew,” winner of five American Motorcyclist Association Grand Nationals. His professional racing career spanned from 1947 to 1955, and Tuman was inducted into the Hall of Fame.
She was working for TGI Friday’s back in the 1990s, opening stores all around the country, when she visited a friend in Dana Point. Her friend said, “I have to take you out to this bar,” and when they rolled up at Cook’s Corner, “I was like, ‘Wow. This is home,’” she said.
Palmeri quickly embraced Southern California. Her work life migrated to Cook’s. And she’s never looked back.
“The motorcycle community and community in the canyon, so many wonderful people who ride — the charity events, the way people work together, it’s just like no other. I get goosebumps talking about it,” she said.
There’s something about riding a motorcycle that non-riders can’t really understand. “It’s freedom,” she said. “It’s camaraderie. It’s peaceful, exhilarating — it’s fun.”
Palmeri spends a lot of time at Cook’s — “Most of my friends are there, it’s kind of like my family, you don’t feel like it’s working” — but she also plays golf, travels with friends, entertains at home, snuggles with her pack of dogs. “I really like being at home,” she said. “I’m not a real nightlife-y kind of person.”
One might say Palmieri rose to the “most influential” category for extraordinary grace under pressure — a sentiment that threw her for a loop. Her late husband used to tell her that all the time. “There is no grace without strength,” he’d say.
It’s a phrase that’s now tattooed on her arm.
Source: Orange County Register
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