“The last order was either a Double Papa Burger or a double bacon,” recalled employee Wendy Olson. “I’ve been working here for four or five years. At first, it (the last day) was sad, but then people kept coming in; the line grew and grew. By the end it was bittersweet.”
By Preston Scott
The memories are distant and growing more so each year, but I still have them.
I remember Florida in the 1960s. When I was a child our family had a home on New Smyrna Beach, south of the Space Coast. We would only be there a few weeks a year when the Minnesota Twins held its spring training nearby. Dad, Ray Scott, was the Twins play-by-play announcer.
I remember the beach, the memory of being towed out past the waves on a canvas/rubber raft by my older brother (I was NOT able to swim.lol) in what I would learn decades later was one of the highest concentration of sharks anywhere off the U.S. coast. He left me out there and swam back.laughing. Mom did not laugh. I was confused why the house on the beach was moving farther away. I am laughing.now.