Growing up in Louisa – Eating Out!
Weekly feature . . . by Mike Coburn
When I was a child the expression ‘eating out’ usually meant we were visiting family, either at the Walter’s farm in Catlettsburg, or with my uncle Loyal in Huntington, or maybe going to a church social in the basement of the our church that was downtown at Main Cross and Madison. Sure, I had seen most of the restaurants that dotted the landscape around Louisa and maybe had even eaten a burger or two at the lunch counter at the five & dime, or at Lula Bells, or somewhere else.
It was a whole new experience when I was taken on a trip to Huntington to a new kind of place. At least, it was new to me. That day a whole carload of my family was taken to a restaurant that was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It was Bailey’s Cafeteria. I’m sure some of you readers will remember the place. Anyway, when I walked with mom down a food serving line she scooted a tray that would be used to hold the plates of food servers were filling for us. We could see all kinds of wonderfully 
prepared food and tell a server which we wanted. Mom let me choose, but I have no idea what I picked out that day, but I’m sure my eyes were bigger than my stomach. I’m also sure I did everything I could to woof it down. I have to assume it was like other cafeterias I’ve been to since. I’m sure that they had a selection including steak and brown gravy, fried chicken, some kind of fish, maybe ham, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, cooked cabbage, greens, beans and some outlandish looking desserts piled high with whipped cream. Wow!
Another time when we were on a shopping trip over there, one of my uncles or aunts was along and suggested we grab lunch. Whoever was driving was given directions and finally guided to what was my first ‘drive-in’ restaurant. It was Shoney’s Big Boy! Mercy that burger was big. I remember a statue of a big kid in checkered overalls holding a Big Boy burger and smiling. It made me have a warm feeling all over even thinking about the big, juicy sandwich. Of course, we frequently fixed hamburgers at home and I’m sure I had enjoyed them at cookouts, or church picnics, but this one was so big I could hardly bite it. I had seen Shoney’s commercials somewhere in the paper, or maybe on TV, so I recognized the big boy logo. I remember the ads about the ‘secret’ ingredient that made this big sandwich so good. That 
seemed to make it more special. It would be years before I discovered that this magical sauce was really just ‘Thousand Island’ dressing, a mixture of mayonnaise and ketchup. So the secret was that the two condiments were mixed and added to the bun in one step instead of two. Well, time had passed by the time I found out, and after all, I had enjoyed the mystery sauce many times, so no harm done. The sandwich was tasty, and every bit as good as promised. The famous sandwiches often filled my skinny tummy to the point of barely being able to breathe. I loved downing a Big Boy, fries and pop. I didn’t have any idea that later on in life my daughter would work her way through college as a waitress at Shoney’s just across the street from our house.
As I grew older I discovered that ‘normal’ hamburgers were good, too. I loved the ones from the Hamburger Inn, which was on Main Cross just past Rip’s and Ern’s newsstand across from Buttermilk’s Poolroom. I think the Hamburger Inn may have been called Effie’s Lunch either before or after that, but I could be confusing memories. Once when I was flush with money I actually ate two hamburgers at the same meal. That was a lot for this skinny kid and nothing compared to the tall ‘double burgers’ sold today. I know a lot of my school friends would hurry downtown for lunch, grab a burger and rush back before the last bell. I always went home to eat. That was partially because home was just as close, but also because I didn’t have lunch money. My exposure to eating out was limited, but those special opportunities were always a treat.
I don’t remember that the burgers at Rip’s, Lulu’s, or the Hamburger Inn were best, or that I cared so much about the source as how quickly I could gobble them up. I think that Rip’s was considered fancier, but maybe that was because of a more diverse menu, uniformed waitresses, or it may have been as simple as Rip’s prices were higher. Some people insist that you get what you pay for. It may have been a special pie they sold. I don’t remember what kind it was, but it must have been good. I was open to go to any of the establishments so long as someone else paid. In fact, I would have loved getting one from each for comparison.
I remember that when the Hinkle Motel was built next to the tracks on the northern end of town they had a restaurant, but I don’t recall eating there when I was growing up. Later, we would have a class reunion there and I’d take a room. I so enjoyed seeing my fellow classmates that year. It was to be the last time I saw several of them, including our esteemed superintendent William A. Cheek.
Out on the southern edge of town, on the Mayo Trail, I remember the Flattop Inn, which was another fine establishment. I don’t remember so much about the food there, as it was the arcade games that attracted kids, or especially young men. Some customers played the pinball machines but my favorite was one that had a heavy round disk that you slid as if you were bowling, or maybe playing hockey. Depending on your aim the score would skyrocket and the machine would go crazy. It made a tremendous racket, and flashed a series of lights. They kept a blackboard of score behind the counter and gave weekly prizes. I remember winning one of the weekly contests with a new high score. When I was told, I ran out there and collected my prize. It was a whole carton of cigarettes! Can you imagine awarding some kid cigarettes today? I expect a lot of parents would be up in arms. It would have an opposite effect of good advertising or public relations.
Further south, pretty far out of town, maybe not very far from Lowmansville, the Kentuckian Restaurant was another good place to eat. I think I mostly had full meals out there instead of burgers, like chopped steak and gravy, or maybe liver and onions. Around that time, I had already gone off to the Air Force, but I visited there at least once on a trip home. I think it had been bought by Mrs. Bradley, my favorite grocer’s widow. I remember chatting with her with some friends when we’d stopped for lunch.
Back when I was still in high school my good friend Billy Elkin’s dad opened Louisa’s second pool room downtown. It was next to Russ Wheeler’s gas station on Madison just across from the Brunswick Hotel. Mr. Elkins was the school’s truant officer so I figured putting in a pool room was a kind of entrapment for hooky players. He put in small snack bar in the front room that served some hot food that was surprisingly good. I remember the meat loaf I got there once. One of my cousins lived in that place, always shooting pool and eating light meals and living what he thought was the good life.
Around the same time Dee’s Dairy Queen was built just a few doors west. It became the ‘in place’ for teens to gather, drive around, and meet each other. I remember Dee wearing white shirts and pants and serving up ice cream and some really great burgers. I loved his thick milk shakes, too. If memory isn’t failing me I think at first he had some ‘car hops’ very like the ones we saw on TV or in movies. I think that Kookie (77 Sunset Strip) or Fonzie (Happy Days), would have loved the place. When an order was delivered by the car hop a tray loaded with burgers, fries, onion rings, or whatever, was hooked to the lowered car window to hold the food. More than once a car would try to drive off before the tray was removed. The carhops would scream and chase them down, or the tray would fall to the ground. It was funny to watch. As far as I know Dee got all his trays back. As business grew he added the dining room so we lost the ability to drive around the little building. I think that the car hops were also stopped, but my memory isn’t clear on when that happened. At some point Dee sold the business, but it continued to be a success and a gathering place in town. It was our first ‘drive-in’ and was still in operation for all of my return visits. I still make it a point to grab lunch there whenever I can when my wife and I are in town.
In those early days the term drive-in had two meanings. I was reminded when I thought of driving off with Dee’s trays. In my school days there was the only drive-in movie theater in the tristate area. It was in Ironton, just across the Ohio. That was a long trip for teens and required someone to borrow their dad’s car for a ‘double date’ to make the trip worthwhile. I remember when the movie ended that some folks would try to drive away with the sound box still hooked to the glass window. At first the drive-in would be missing a speaker, but they wised up and started using steel cables. Those were securely attached to the pole so cars pulling out usually lost the glass in their windows. That made for a frosty drive home in the winter, and a frosty reception from the parents who really owned the cars. Later, when I was in the Air Force I lost a window the same way.
To revisit food vendors, I remember that our Favorite 5 & 10, Soda Fountain also made great burgers. In fact, just walking into the store the aroma would pull you toward the fountain. I remember climbing up on a stool there when mom ordered up a burger. It was intended for us to share, but mom got distracted by friends walking by so I ate most of the sandwich. When I realized I’d eaten her lunch I felt so bad. She hugged me and told me she didn’t care. I still hung my head feeling bad.
I remember that there were also soda fountains at Skaggs’ Drug Store, and at Ed Land Sundry but I don’t think they had a grill or hot food. Regardless, if you had the funding there was no reason to go hungry in Louisa. They each had their own personality and clientele. In thinking back I’m amazed that the little town could support so many fine places to eat and I wish I could have contributed more, myself.
If there’s anyone out there that has any memories of my great grandfather, Dr. W.W. Wray, I’d appreciate hearing from you. Very few in the family know or have heard many stories about this patriarch. We have his obituary, which is helpful, but that’s about all we have. Anything you’ve heard from parents or grandparents relating to his life would be appreciated.
