The Foundation
The Story
How a family from Chicago built something that outlasted them — a donut shop that became a landmark, a refuge, and a piece of American history.
01 / Origins
A farm in Chicago. A dream in California.
Jack Evans grew up on a farm in Chicago. During the Great Depression, he came to California — the way so many did, by necessity and by hope. He found his way into food service, the way practical men tend to, and eventually opened two cafeterias in the heart of Los Angeles. He named them Evans Cafeteria.
In those cafeterias, among other things, he sold donuts under a name he didn’t yet own: Cooper Donuts, named for their creator, Richard Cooper. The donuts sold well. Jack noticed.
In 1952, Jack purchased the rights to the Cooper Donuts name from Richard Cooper for $50,000 — a considerable sum. It was a bet on something he already understood: that people in a city this large, this restless, this alive at all hours, would always need somewhere warm to sit, a cup of coffee, and something simple and good.
“My grandfather always thought that basically everyone was the same. People are people regardless. And if you want to come in, he thought everyone should have a donut regardless of who you are.”
Keith Evans — grandson of Jack Evans
02 / Building the chain
Thirty-three shops and a stool at the counter.
The first Cooper Donuts location opened at 215 S Main Street in 1952. Jack started the way smart operators do — wholesale first. He sold to independent drivers, who supplied other cafes and diners across the city. Cooper’s donuts appeared in shop windows around Los Angeles before most people knew where they came from.
Then he added storefronts. Small ones — twelve, fourteen stools, just enough for a quick cup of coffee and a donut at an affordable price. The format worked. He replaced the larger Evans Cafeteria at 215 S Main with a smaller, dedicated Cooper Donuts at 213 S Main. The cafeteria model gave way to the counter.
By the chain’s peak, the Evans family operated more than 27 locations in Southern California and 6 in Northern California — 33 shops in all, stretching from downtown Los Angeles to Pacoima, from Hollywood to South Central. It was a modest empire, built on flour, grease, and showing up every morning.
Note on the wholesale network
Cooper’s donuts were sold wholesale to other establishments across Los Angeles — including Lou Fuester’s and Spencers. This means the Cooper name circulated far beyond the branded storefronts. Understanding this distribution network is part of understanding the chain’s full footprint in the city.
03 / The design
Marge Evans drew the “C.”
Behind every good shop, there is someone who decided what it looked like. For Cooper Donuts, that person was Marge Evans. Jack’s wife designed the logo — taking the bite out of a donut to form the letter “C” in Cooper. Simple, clever, immediately readable from a storefront window.
She also chose the counters. They were salmon — her favorite color. In shop after shop, across more than thirty locations, the counters were the same shade of salmon. It is the kind of detail that only matters if you were there. We think it matters.
04 / The open door
If you needed work, someone sent you to Cooper’s.
Jack Evans was known for hiring people who had nowhere else to go. Veterans returning from World War II and Korea, dealing with what we now call PTSD. Transients passing through town. People from wealthy families who had fallen on hard times. Anyone down and out.
Police officers on skid row would routinely refer people to Cooper Donuts when they needed work. The pay was $5 a shift — enough for a room, a warm meal, cigarettes, and a little saved. Good workers were always welcomed back when they came through again.
This was not policy in the formal sense. It was character. And it shaped who came through the door, who stayed, who considered it their place. Long before any uprising, Cooper Do-nuts was already something unusual in Los Angeles: a room where the margin was the center.
A patron’s story
Blanche
Blanche was deaf and mute. She was also a beloved regular at Cooper Donuts — a fixture. The Evans family gave her small jobs whenever possible, folding her into the daily life of the shop rather than tolerating her presence at its edges.
She left something behind: a cartoon she drew that hung for years at the main headquarters. It showed a figure at the counter, a donut and a cup of coffee, with a caption: “All this for a dime?” It was the shop distilled to its essence — warmth, affordability, and a seat for anyone who needed one.
05 / The legacy
The shop is gone. The history isn’t.
Cooper Do-nuts operated from the 1940s through the mid-1990s. The storefronts are gone. The counters are gone. But in 2023, the City of Los Angeles designated the corner at 2nd and Main a historic landmark — Cooper Do-nuts/Nancy Valverde Square — formally recognizing the shop’s place in LGBTQ history.
The Cooper Do-nuts Foundation exists to make sure the rest of the record — the parts that didn’t make it into the official citation — gets documented too.
There is more to this story.
We’re still finding it. Follow along.
We’ll only write when we have something worth saying.