On a recent Saturday, Ken and I ate lunch at Lucy’s #7 Burger Bar in Beloit, Wisconsin. We got there a little after noon and were told we’d have a 45-minute wait for a table. When we were seated, the woman next to us said they were from Chicago. No wonder the place was crowded.
Hamburger joints have always been a part of my life. When I was a youngster, we would go shopping in Rockford, Illinois, on a rainy day. When we finished late in the afternoon, my parents stopped at Sam’s on Auburn St. and bought burgers to go. We ate them on the way to the farm so Dad and Mom were ready to start evening chores as soon as we arrived.
While I was in Junior High, I joined kids across the country taking accordion lessons. Each of us hoped to become the next Dick Contino, a famous 18-year-old musician who made the instrument popular. Every Saturday morning, Dad and Mom drove me to Voight Music Center in Beloit. Afterward, we crossed the street to eat lunch at Walt’s, a hole-in-the-wall, hamburger joint.
In high school, I dated Kenny. On Saturday nights, he took me to movies in Rockford and followed it with hamburgers at the Hollywood drive-in.
When I was 19, I had to spend five months in the Rockford Municipal Sanitarium to recover from TB. At the institution, our supper was a small meal served at 4:30 p.m. By the time visiting hours rolled around at seven, I was hungry again. My parents brought hamburgers from Sam’s.
While our three kids were growing up, I took them for swimming lessons at the Rockford YW once a week after school. McDonald’s was popular and we always stopped at the Golden Arches for supper.
There’s something about meat cooked on a commercial grill that makes it taste better than a hamburger prepared at home.
Do you frequent a burger joint?