|
by Michael J. Ference
This story is about
memories: mine, my family’s
and just about anybody
else’s who has grown up in
the Pittsburgh area over the
last 50 years. Memories of
Eat’n Park, and plenty of
good times!
As teenagers, we would
cruise the parking lot of
Eat’n Park Restaurants
almost every night. Only
after several trips around
the eateries would we
venture inside. The wait
staff saw us coming, and had
already lined up tables in
the far corner to
accommodate our crowd. We
were regulars. I swear if we
didn’t check in by a certain
hour, the wait staff would
call our parents to make
sure we were okay. We came
for the French fries, and
those double-decker burgers
with the special sauce; we
stayed to talk about girls,
fast cars, and more girls.
We were teenagers then, and
sometimes prone to cause
trouble, but the kind and
experienced waitresses, many
of whom could have doubled
for an older sister, or
perhaps a favorite aunt,
kept us in line. We stayed
for hours, always making
sure everyone chipped in for
a good-sized tip, or at
least what we, in our youth,
judged to be a good-sized
tip. It was our way of
showing appreciation for the
good food, the good service,
and the special treatment
afforded to young guys who
smoked a lot and sometimes
weren’t always careful about
the language they used.
As a young man courting a
lady, Eat’n Park was the
place to stop after a movie,
a dance, or to just check
in. I proposed to my little
lady after one of those
visits. More importantly,
she accepted. That was over
32 years ago. Now, I can’t
tell you how many meals the
two of us have had at the
various Eat’n Parks or how
many pieces of strawberry
pie and cheesecake we’ve
shared together since we
tied the knot. But I know we
celebrated just about every
event imaginable with our
children at one of the
restaurant’s many locations.
As our children were growing
up, we went to Eat’n Park
after both the good and
not-so-good teacher visits
and report cards. We blew
into Eat’n Park after our
son Adam’s one and only
trumpet recital. It was the
place for hot chocolate and
coffee for Michael and me as
we tried to get warm during
archery season. It was also
the destination of choice as
I nervously encouraged
Veronica to drive for the
first time on snow-covered
roads. She still had her
learner’s permit at the
time. Naturally, we pulled
into Eat’n Park to celebrate
yet another family
milestone. And like the
strawberry pie and
cheesecake my wife and I
have shared, I wouldn’t want
to try and guess the number
of Smiley cookies my
children munched there over
the years.
I could go on and on.
Suffice it to say that every
time I visit an Eat’n Park,
it’s like a trip down memory
lane. It was the place to
hang-out with buddies after
a football game, the perfect
spot for a date, and for
many youngsters Eat’n Park
provides their first job
opportunity.
Eat’n Park is truly a
neighborhood restaurant that
has become part of the
stories of our lives, and I
can only hope that it
remains that way for both my
children and our
grandchildren in the years
ahead.
|
