Hard work done early

It certainly was a different lifestyle.

My dad would leave the house between 4:30 & 5:00 am, six days a week, to get the restaurant open by 6. On the spacial days: beginning of hunting season, the summer days when the sun would rise earliest, etc he would leave even earlier. The coffee would begin to brew first. Then he would check to see if everything was clean: serving areas, sandwich table, grill, deep fryer, "slats" behind the counter, bathrooms, floors, tables, booths, etc. Then he would set up the "kitchen area" for breakfast (10 dozen eggs, 5 lbs of bacon, batter for pancakes or waffles, sausages). By then the coffee would be ready and Earl would pour his first cup! By now Dot or Rose would come in and finish up the dining room. My dad would put the change and dollars in the cash register and heat up the grills. Then and only then would the lights go on and the door would be unlocked.

By 5:45 the regulars would start to line up by the door. They would wait patiently. It didn't matter if it was 20 degrees or 80 degrees. At 6 am the rush would start. My dad's banter would come out:
"Hey, ol'Joe how's it going? Where ya workin' today? Didja get to the rivah over the weekend?"

"Hey Ed, Charlie was in here on Friday looking for you? Did you see him? I think he was looking for work?"

"Bubbie, did you get that hospital job? Man I hope so sure don't want to see you guys leave us! We've got the Hamburger Steak special today at lunch."'.

And that was Earl's schtick! It worked so well. He never knew a stranger and everyone was his friend.


And this would go on and on throughout the day.

I never saw unloving parents

My dad owned restaurants. Six that I know of and 2 that I remember. He worked hard. The ones in DC were 24 hours. So as the owner he was kinda on call 24 hours. The one in Richmond was kinda a breakfast and lunch diner.

In Richmond, it was a more manageable schedule. 6 am to 3 pm. Typically he was home by 3:30 or 4. So my memory from elementary school through high school was of my dad coming home with a large cup of coffee in a styroform cup from the restaurant. He would walk in the door with his little box under his arm, the cup tucked into the box with his money bag and business notebook and other paraphernalia necessary for opening and closing a business. My mom would greet him at the door with a little kiss. They would sit down at the kitchen table and pour the coffee into 2 mugs and catch up on the day. I never knew as a kid what they had so much to talk about. But it was always encouraging to me to see them so into each other