The Central Lunch

One of the places I remember visiting with my grandfather (the one who worked for Coca-Cola) was the Central Lunch. This little restaurant is located in Weissport, Pennsylvania, USA. In the photo below, you can see the place has recently been painted.

It sits beside the railroad tracks, serving quick meals to whoever happens to pass by. Originally there was a set of double tracks here. The line belonged to the New Jersey Central. On the other side of the building, out of view, is what remains of the Lehigh Canal. Both the canal and the railroad were instrumental in transporting anthracite coal which originated just north of this spot to Philadelphia, New York, and beyond. In those days there was also a fast steam train known as the Black Diamond that ran from Mauch Chunk (now called Jim Thrope, PA) to New York City. It provided regular service for the mine owners to meet the financiers of Wall Street.

In my short story titled Big Iron Holiday, two friends used to race each other along the tow path of the canal. The winner had to buy the other a slice of pie at the Central Lunch. Well, in the story, they are now adults, and the year is 1918. Ellsworth (“E.L.”) Botcher works for the railroad as the superintendent of a wreck crew. His pal Edward (Ned) Fry joined up with some other Americans to become a pilot during the First World War. As the story opens, it is Christmas Eve, the war is over, and Ellsworth is returning from a job with his crew. As they approach the Lehigh Water Gap he spots an airplane. Sure enough, it is Ned Fry, always a crafty character. And so, it is the iron horse versus the flying machine as they race yet again to the Central Lunch, just ten miles up the tracks, on the evening before Christmas.

I’ll have to figure out how to post longer entries like Big Iron Holiday. Then I’ll put it up for all to read. Ultimately, I’d like to turn this story into a book about these two men. Something like… Ellsworth climbs through the ranks of the railroad. Ned ends up flying airplanes for Hollywood and performing other crazy stunts. Ellsworth deals with the tragedy of train wrecks and boiler explosions, witnessing the death of a young protege that leaves him bitter but determined to press on as America becomes an industrial giant. Ned suffers his own losses as the movie business uses his talent but denies him stardom. The novel would culminate in World War II, D-Day, when both of them are much older men. Ellsworth, now a powerful railroader, helps organize logistics for Eisenhower. Ned begs him to use his influence to get him a spot in a fighter squadron. But they’re both too old, and too valuable, to be placed in such danger. They have to face the reality that their days of glory are behind them and that younger men are not only capable, but willing, to do the hard and bloody work of defending a nation.

All this from a stop at the Central Lunch. You never know where a good story will pop up.

Published in: on July 1, 2008 at 12:36 am  Comments (1)  
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Friendly Corner

There I was in Madrid, Spain, hankering for my Coca-Cola. I could have taken one from the fridge in my room. The place where I stay knows me well and always provides a fresh stock of my favorite beverage. But that wouldn’t put me in the thrall of the city. I didn’t have to venture very far. Diagonally across the street from my door was this little market.

The people working there might have been straight from central casting. There was a husband and wife team, both about five feet tall and exhibiting that charming helpfulness that makes every visit to the store a joy. It took them two tries to peg me as American. They quickly begged forgiveness for the graffiti on the wall outside their store. I told them it meant nothing to me, that I was in search of an ice-cold Coca-Cola. Still, they were ashamed that someone had defiled their corner. They didn’t want me or any other visitors to get the impression that their neighborhood was full of bad people. I said in my shabby Spanish that this is one of the nicest neighborhoods in all of Madrid. They agreed but shook a fist at some kids who needed a lesson or two. I purchased the Coke, a few small items, and took my leave.

Those shopkeepers are a declining breed, not only in Spain but the world over. They’re the ones who will chat with you, take an interest in the neighborhood, and tell you to ask for their friend, who on their recommendation, will treat you like family at a local restaurant. Patronize them whenever you can. It’s a genuine experience that makes a trip memorable.

As always, ENJOY! Coca-Cola ICE COLD.

Published in: on June 23, 2008 at 10:16 am  Comments (3)  
Tags: , , ,

A Brief Reminder

Here’s a photo of a fading Coca-Cola sign, this one taken in Aruba.

People ask me why I’m such a big fan of Coca-Cola. Well, it goes back a long way, my whole life actually. You see, my grandfather worked for Coca-Cola Bottling of New York. They owned the local bottling works in the next town over from where I grew up. He drove a delivery truck, hauling various products to stores and restaurants located around the area. The company treated my grandfather very well. When he finally retired they gave him an expensive clock, which I only learned much later was powered by the changes in atmospheric pressure. It’s a long explanation exactly how. Suffice it to say it works with a barometer that acts as a winding device so you don’t have to wind it. For the company to give him such an expensive gift was a remarkable gesture. Sadly, my grandfather died young, as many of his generation did, a victim of cancer. I remember going a few places with him, the local fire house where he liked to meet his friends was one in particular.

But it’s more than just loyalty to my grandfather. I like the taste of the product. Some people may not like it, but Coke is a universal symbol of Americana. I’ve been many places in this world and buying a stranger a Coke is not a bad way to break the ice or start a friendship. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s simple. A properly chilled and served Coke goes a long way to refresh and inspire. I can’t pour one without being reminded of my grandfather. Funny how things remind us of people, isn’t it?

As always, ENJOY Coca-Cola, ICE COLD.

Published in: on June 18, 2008 at 12:24 pm  Comments (2)  
Tags: , ,

At the Edge of Europe

Here is a photo taken in southern Spain. I stopped for an ice-cold Coca-Cola on the way from Vejer de la Frontera to Gibraltar. In the background, across the strait is Africa. This is the edge of Europe, where one continent ends and the other begins.

Coca-Cola is my favorite soft drink, and I taste the local mix wherever I happen to be. It varies slightly from country to country, even town to town. In Spain, I understand that real sugar is used instead of corn syrup. The flavor is exceptional, the carbonation fantastic, and refreshment divine. For all the talk of wine being a popular refresco in Spain, I noted plenty of Coca-Cola being served, much of it in returnable bottles. It is interesting to find this American icon in so many locales. From Jamaica to Switzerland, Aruba to Canada, Cozumel to California, I have yet to be somewhere without it.

No matter what the location, I have a photo of myself taken with a can or bottle and keep an archive. Over the coming years I’ll be expanding the photo archive to include the people who serve and sell this beverage. With each photo I’ll include a brief description of them or a quote they would like attached.

As always, ENJOY Coca-Cola, ICE-COLD.

Published in: on June 8, 2008 at 6:36 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: ,
Newer Entries »