The life and legacy of Ground Zero Cafe

This month, a beloved campus tradition comes to an end.

For almost 30 years, Ground Zero Performance Cafe has been the hub of student arts and culture at USC — a quirky, student-run venue for open mic nights, late-night hangouts, and a secret menu of famous milkshakes.

But now — after almost five years of gradual closure — USC has announced that it will soon fully demolish Ground Zero, alongside the neighboring Marks Hall and Trojan Residence Hall.

So today, in its final hours, we look back at the storied life and enduring legacy of a beloved campus landmark. Because, for generations of staff and customers, Ground Zero was more than a coffee shop.

ALEX MENACHE: It truly has been the most monumental experience of my life to be a part of Ground Zero, and it was that way for so many students.

That was Alex Menache, who worked as a barista at Ground Zero until its food and drink service was controversially shut down in 2017. The version of Ground Zero that she describes was a lot more active than the one you see today.

ALEX MENACHE: We also called it “Gamma Zeta.” And it was like our own little fraternity of what we all dreamed we could have had from a fraternity, which was a super colorful, diverse, interesting community of people who are different.

For generations, Ground Zero was one of the only entirely student-run spaces at the university. It was founded in 1993 as a business student’s thesis project, and retained that DIY spirit. It had that ‘90s underground coffeehouse vibe — with ironic wall art, comfy couches, cozy lighting, and baristas that felt like family. People called it “USC’s living room.”

Moriah Polk was a barista at Ground Zero in 2017, and became the executive house manager after the bar closed down. Now an alumni, she reminisces on the time she spent at Ground Zero.

MORIAH POLK: So, all the walls are black — my favorite part. And then my favorite tidbit was: There’s a stage, and there’s this big black curtain, right? But if you pull it back, there’s like this huge graffiti art that says “Ground Zero” and there’s this little circle window that people like to sit in sometimes. It felt like you were in an underground scene.

ALEX MENACHE: People came into Ground Zero and were with their kids — like bringing in their kids on strollers — telling us that they had worked there, and Destiny’s Child had played there when they worked there. And all these magical stories.

SYANN CROMWELL: Pretty much as soon as I walked in, I was like, “Oh yeah, this space is going to be very fundamental to my college career.”

That was Syann Cromwell, who worked as a barista, and later production manager, at Ground Zero. To her, the space was unlike anywhere else on campus.

SYANN CROMWELL: There’s just something about it. As soon as you walk in — even just the vibe of the people in there chillin’, and just the kind of grunge aesthetic. I remember at that point we had band T-shirts on the walls and stuff. It just seemed like the coolest place ever.

That changed in the fall of 2017, when USC announced that Ground Zero would be closed for a year of renovations. The building needed a lot of updates. It didn’t have bathrooms, or fire alarms, and was rumored to have asbestos in the ceiling. But then, without explanation, a year passed and no renovations had taken place. USC reopened the space in 2018 as a client-based event venue run by Trojan Event Services — without food or drinks. The coffee bar was shuttered, the milkshake machines were powered down. Outside of Monday night open mics and the occasional event, for most intents and purposes, Ground Zero was closed to the public.

SYANN CROMWELL: It came down to finances. At least that’s what we were told. It wasn’t necessarily profitable. And just certain repairs and things needed to take place. They basically didn’t want to invest the money into Ground Zero.

Although Moriah suspects ulterior motives…

MORIAH POLK: I was never incentivized while I was working there as a barista to make more sales. I’ll say it like that. And if that was something that we knew needed to be done — that we needed to like, make more money to stay open — then we could have done that.

I can also tell you, I used to work for Lyon Center and I was in a meeting with… I’m not sure who it was, but it was one of the high ranking people at Student Affairs. And they were talking about ways to make Lyon Center more popular because they were losing money. And one person suggested a smoothie bar. But they said, “Oh no, no, no, we don’t want students serving food. That’s why Ground Zero got closed.” Not knowing that I was a former Ground Zero employee. I was like, “Oh.”

I just don’t think they like the image of… They never said why — it could also be a safety thing — but I also think a lot of it is an image thing.

USC did not respond to requests for a statement. The closure may have been for a combination of these reasons, or something entirely different. But one thing that everyone interviewed agrees on is that the decision was abrupt and poorly communicated.

SYANN CROMWELL: They told us probably a week and a half, maybe two weeks before classes started.

ALEX MENACHE: It felt like they were withholding details. Like, not even our general managers knew why.

That confusion made it difficult for the employees to protest the decision. Although, Alex remembers that they certainly tried.

ALEX MENACHE: We really came together. There were meetings that were scheduled with that administration, and there were certain representatives that went to the meetings. And then, you know, summer hit and we all went home. And there were people who tried to keep organizing, but with Nikias stepping down, and people graduating and going to jobs, we were just losing momentum.

These days, Ground Zero is primarily known for its Monday open mic nights — the one time a week the venue sputters back to life as something that resembles its former self. Even without milkshakes, it’s been a gathering place for USC’s musicians, poets, and stand up comics.

JORDAN JONES: It’s kind of indescribable, the bonds that we make just by sharing music or anything like that. It’s just a really communal feeling and it’s really, really awesome.

That’s Jordan Jones, the current executive house manager at Ground Zero. He says looking forward to open mic night keeps him going through the week.

JORDAN JONES: I’ve heard many people say that Mondays are like the highlight of their week. So even for me, like coming back from the weekend to a Monday, I’m actually excited to come to school because I know that I get to do open mic night at the end.

JONATHAN JOEI: For me, it was a place where I was able to try standup comedy, to grow and to learn, and kind of let my hair down. There’s not really any other place like this on campus to do that.

That was Jonathan Joei, a senior who’s been performing standup at Ground Zero since his freshman year. He’s one of the many Monday night regulars.

Another is singer Abby Chen. For her, open mic night is an opportunity to connect with fellow artists.

ABBY CHEN: I feel like that’s the main thing I’ve gotten out of. It is just this really amazing community of people who are just there to support you and have fun, and there’s really no pressure.

Now, that community has come to an end. Last month, it was officially announced that Ground Zero will not reopen next semester. Demolitions will begin in December. The university has not announced what will be built in its place. In a statement, they suggest that students use other on-campus venues for events, such as Tommy’s Place. And the Ground Zero staff is already negotiating the return of open mic night at Tommy’s Place next semester. But, the move is being met with mixed reception.

JONATHAN JOEI: I don’t know. I’m not sure if Tommy’s place could fulfill that role. I’ve been there a couple of times for a couple of different things, and it’s just a different venue. It feels like more of an auditorium than a nice, cozy lounge. And that’s what the Ground Zero atmosphere is: It feels like a nice, cozy lounge.

Petitions to save Ground Zero have been circulating, but there’s no indication that the school will change its mind.

Issac Quijas, a house manager at Ground Zero who also performs standup, wishes USC would use its financial resources to support the Ground Zero community.

ISSAC QUIJAS: I mean, the university has plenty of resources to definitely build a newer Ground Zero, improved with bathrooms and hopefully another cafe. If I have a message for the university higher staff: Please just do something. Provide another space for these students.

Although, Moriah says a different approach is needed to ensure that a potential new space would also be student-run:

MORIAH POLK: I think it would have to be up to the students to find another Ground Zero, because the university can’t do it because then it’s just another dining hall, it’s another Starbucks. And I love Starbucks. But it’s not Ground Zero.

Ground Zero’s fate fits a recent pattern of forced closures on campus. Nearly every shop or restaurant is now run through the university. Some students feel that USC had been undermining Ground Zero for years in pursuit of that.

But, why doesn’t the university place more value in the student culture that was built there?

ALEX MENACHE: I actually do know a lot of people that would have transferred if they hadn’t found Ground Zero.

MORIAH POLK: When it closed the first time, I cried for like three days when they told me it was closing. Because I was like: How? How am I going to see all my friends? How am I going to make more friends?

ALEX MENACHE: Who is this school really operating for? Is it for the students? Or is it for the donors and the prospective students?

And Syann adds that encouraging community-focused spaces like Ground Zero can support students’ mental health.

SYANN CROMWELL: I’m trying to think if there are other casual student hangout spots — You know, especially in light of ongoing mental health struggles and the loneliness epidemic on campuses. All of these things that GZ provided. It seems like it would really remedy a lot of the issues that the university is dealing with.

ALEX MENACHE: We don’t want everything to be perfect and clean and pristine. We want to feel like there’s humanity, and personality, and a presence of a people in a community.

Ground Zero was a lot of things for a lot of people: A hangout spot. A life-changing job. A coffee shop. A campus tradition. A safe space to try new things, to be yourself. A place to laugh with friends, or to cry with them. It was an escape. A community.

And now, it’s just a memory.

ALEX MENACHE: It was just the greatest place on Earth. Like, everyone who’s spent time there would attest to that statement.

SYANN CROMWELL: I don’t think there is anything that has the unique appeal of Ground Zero.

MORIAH POLK: What I liked about Ground Zero was that it just didn’t fit in, on purpose. It was the one place that was like, “We’re different.”

SYANN CROMWELL: I met best friends working at Ground Zero and people that I’ll definitely be in touch with for the rest of my life.

ALEX MENACHE: That sense of community is truly something that I haven’t found since I was at Ground Zero. And I live my whole life hoping that I’ll find a place that had the culture and sense of belonging and creativity that Ground Zero had.

ISSAC QUIJAS: That’s what I think Ground Zero means to a lot of people. A second home, comfort, and just a cool place to hang out and find another community and family.

JONATHAN JOEI: Ground Zero has been really one of the highlights of my time at USC. And it’s just — I’m gonna miss it. I’m going to miss it. That’s what it’s going to be.

ABBY CHEN: I was really sad. I’m graduating in two weeks, so it doesn’t really affect me, but I know what it’s offered for me, and I was hoping it would offer that for people before me too.

JORDAN JONES: Just the venue in general is just so awesome. I’ve met so many amazing technical staff, friends in general, audience members…and the crowds have always been amazing, super sweet, super accepting. And it’s just really sad to see the venue go. But we’ll just see what’s in the future, I guess.