When I was a kid and would spend the night at Gramaw's house in the
City of Fairfax, she would sometimes take me to the 29 Diner so she
could enjoy some nighttime coffee and pie. Gramaw chatted happily with the waitresses and me while the Jukebox played.
On the occasions I went there with my dad, he'd point to the corner booth and tell me that's where he used to do his homework while Gramaw worked, waitressing and cooking, late at night, and he would fall asleep in the booth.
When I worked for my dad in the summer at John's Auto Repair, I was in the diner a few times a week, or if my friends and I were out late and hungry, we'd go in.
Gramaw helped my PawPaw build the foundation for that diner. The only story I remember her telling me is that she drove the dump truck with her twin babies in the front seat, using a blanket-filled box to create a nest for them. It was around 1942--no car seat laws would be made for years.
My family has a lot of early history with the 29 Diner, but over the years, for me, anyway, the visits become fewer and fewer.
I prefer my memories of being there with Gramaw, her buying me a pack of gum from the random selection they had at the ancient cash register, the "Cash Only" sign, the jingling bell when you opened the door. My favorite recollections are of the worn (marble?) table tops and those lovely glass bricks at either end of the diner, looking out the window onto Lee Highway, watching the present while relaxing in a piece of history.
On the occasions I went there with my dad, he'd point to the corner booth and tell me that's where he used to do his homework while Gramaw worked, waitressing and cooking, late at night, and he would fall asleep in the booth.
When I worked for my dad in the summer at John's Auto Repair, I was in the diner a few times a week, or if my friends and I were out late and hungry, we'd go in.
Gramaw helped my PawPaw build the foundation for that diner. The only story I remember her telling me is that she drove the dump truck with her twin babies in the front seat, using a blanket-filled box to create a nest for them. It was around 1942--no car seat laws would be made for years.
My family has a lot of early history with the 29 Diner, but over the years, for me, anyway, the visits become fewer and fewer.
I prefer my memories of being there with Gramaw, her buying me a pack of gum from the random selection they had at the ancient cash register, the "Cash Only" sign, the jingling bell when you opened the door. My favorite recollections are of the worn (marble?) table tops and those lovely glass bricks at either end of the diner, looking out the window onto Lee Highway, watching the present while relaxing in a piece of history.
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