In 1987 I retired from Monroe Golf Club where I had served a very special and informed membership in all matter of fine dining. Now what to do at not quite 47 years old. I know! I'll try a new adventure, I'll purchase and run "The Local Diner"...."been here for nearly 50 years, how could it lose?" I said to myself. (My wife, who thought I had lost my mind, said if that's what you want, go ahead.) Well I did just that, I bought "Jerry's" from Patty, the daughter of the guy who had opened the place in 1939 or 1940, who knows exactly when.
People usually came in 7 days a week and many folks who had left town, always came in while visiting family. It seems like Jerry's was 'the place, the hang out" for a Texas hot or burger & fries" after everything else had closed up for the day. But I'll admit mornings were the best. Jerry's was located on the edge of town on the westside and had plenty of parking in back. Decor was dark paneling, well worn hardwood floors, tile and a throw rug. When I got the place it boasted having the last gas space heater in the middle of the restaurant ... the only furnace (which did not heat the whole place well.) Table tops were vintage and the furniture dated back a few decades or so. Nonsmokers sat among smokers, and nobody cared or complained. No Sunday Brunch here! Our breakfast menu offered biscuits and gravy, pancakes, French toast, eggs any style, bacon, sausage or ham. Nothing too fancy or the clientele would get suspicious! The most sought after tables were the 2 in front, a big round one and a square one thatthe guys would pull up as many chairs as would fit around. These particular regulars started showing up before the sun did. They'd sit and work their jaws with tales, often so high that reality sometimes was lost, for an hour or so, leave and come back once or twice before morning was out. The always returned at about 3:30 in the afternoon to continue the stories they didn't finish earlier in the day. They'd buy one cup of coffee each, visit and 66milk" the free refill policy for all it's worth. Frugal these (wonderful) people!
We had several waitresses but none as special as Sharon. She had been a waitress on local diners since she was 16 and lord knows how long ago that may have been. She knew everyone, their likes and what they would order. She knew their first names and more "dirt" on the lot of them, or at least enough to scandalize the goody-goody two shoes (who shared the dirt) in the village! But kept it quiet, except for innuendoes targeting those who knew the whole story about an incident (40 years ago) and we'd all laugh .... we didn't know why, but it was fun to laugh in those days.
When I was a kid, it was the place to go, on a date, after the drive-in movie or after a night of drinking or to make the "game" last a little while longer. Jerry's served the best Texas hot dog and the "hot" sauce was to die for .... got the recipe from Patty's mom (who made the sauce as needed daily.) With out the sauce, the hot dog was just a hot dog, but with it, that hot dog was a feast, a gourmet experience at Jerry's! I left that little village in 1958 and returned after 30 years (to buy and run Jerry's) as determined by the fates. It seemed as if I had never left, I hit the town and everything seemed the same.....even the people hadn't changed, I was Donnie again (hadn't been called that in thirty years) and it seemed good to be me again. You know, you can't be someone you're not among the folks you grew up with .... like I said, Sharon knows everything about everyone. After I took over, I hiked the price of coffee up by 15 cents after 6 months. You should have heard the howls. Several regulars took heir trade to the McDonald's down in the village, where coffee was half my price. The only problem was that they had to actually get up and get their own first cup and I refill. You guessed it, the complainers returned, full force. Something keeps bringing them back. I call it a sense of belonging that runs deeper than the years. And maybe these "skinflints" know deep down that the owner of the little family diner needs to earn a living somehow. If not the place would close and a piece of them would "go out of business" leaving no place to linger over hours of small talk and freeloading coffee refills. It's something to ponder, after all. The mother of the fast food era must not be permitted to die in small town America    ..... where would the honest political debates take place? And where would we get a fresh Haddock fish fry, consistently good every Friday after work? In our country where much has changed, and not always for the better, let's preserve this institution for at least as long as we live to ejoy the memories they evoke. We know and believe them to be one of the last vestiges of old fashioned morality and honesty - small town style..