Monday, March 21, 2011

Hagerstown Buffet

The Loxley family didn't eat out much. Once in awhile we would go to Hustons in Arcanum. But, all in all, the Loxley's ate at home.

I was in grade school when I was treated to my first trip to Hagerstown, Indiana. Not too far over the Ohio/Indiana line, was this farm girl's dream. All the food you could eat!!!! Wow! Pans of fish and country fried steak. Piles of mashed potatoes and gravy to match. Food in such an abundance that we feasted until we could hardly move.

I remember the first trip to the buffet. Notorious for getting carsick, I lived up to my reputation. We didn't have all those wonderful drugs now available to allow a little girl a long ride in the car without standing next to the ditch or walking next to the car hoping the waves of nausea would pass. The loss of appetite made the trip a bit more hazardous for me. Yet, I don't think I backed off of the food. More than likely I walked most of the way back to Ohio and the farm.

Sometimes I forget how far away we were from mainstream America. We had our little department stores with limited choices so would make big days of shopping in Dayton. We shopped for sheet music and ate at the Virginia Cafeteria. Now I long for the little stores and their limited choices. I miss the single entrepreneur businesses giving way to box stores. I miss the old 5 and 10 filled with every conceivable need for hearth and home. The Fleet and Farm full of the smells of the barn, overalls and farming equipment.  Darn it, I miss Hagerstown Buffet with the pans of food and plates piled high.

It's funny how those memories creep back now and then. Something triggers a thought long tucked away, perhaps for such an occasion as this. There was family laughter when we ate heartily of the meal at the buffet. One Mom didn't need to cook. One with no dishes waiting after. We visited friends and family on the way. Our Sunday was filled with time together, especially that in the old Packard singing at the top of our lungs.

Ah, a good memory. Maybe it is your memory, too.

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