January 25, 1987
Two other ladies here in town had rather famous and well-known restaurants: Laura Maloney and Agnes McKinney. Sometimes they were in business together, but more often separate. They both started at the Mallory home as girls learning a trade. Later, they worked at the depot hotel restaurant over coal-fired ranges. Laura told me the stones the ranges sat on got so hot your feet just about cooked.
Agnes first had a restaurant just south of the Steinbach Lockers. Later she went across the street to a small building that Robert Larimer built for her. The beauty parlor moved there after Agnes died. Lots of humorous things happened while Agnes was there. Buck Johnson, a well-known man in town, came in a little late for breakfast one morning. She wouldn’t serve him. George Steinbach was at the counter so he went around behind and baked the pancakes and bacon for Buck. Agnes fumed and stomped out to her cottage which was out back. George was game and ran the place until Agnes came back.
Agnes got religion in later life. Reverend Orange of our church told me this story. Quite frequently he would stop in for a cup of coffee. Often the conversation was about church. One Monday a.m. he stopped in for coffee and asked Agnes if she had gone to church. She said she had. He asked her what the sermon was about and she answered, “Jonah and the whale.” He said, “That was quite a story,” whereupon she said, “Don’t you believe that happened?” His answer was that it was a parable, a story to illustrate a point. She asked, “Don’t you believe in the Bible?” He answered, “Definitely!” She said, “You have to eat it word for word.” He said to her, “Agnes, when He said, ‘I am the door,’ do you believe He was the door?” “If He said He was, that was it,” she answered. She then told him not to come in anymore. He left and came back the next morning and all was just as if nothing had happened.
In early life Agnes was Agnes Wardlow. Later she married Frank McKinney who ran a taxi service here. One afternoon I was waiting my turn in Ben Cunningham’s barber shop for a haircut. The barber shop was under the old National Bank. This stood where First Central stands now. Frank McKinney came in wearing a long yellow raincoat. They asked him to have a chair, but he declined and continued to lean against the wall. He was using a crutch as his right leg was off at the knee. Just then Mr. Cunningham finished shaving his customer and sat him upright. I observed the man was Verne Baughman, and so did McKinney. At this moment McKinney whipped out a shotgun and fired point blank at Baughman. Somehow the gun malfunctioned and no shot came out. He was quickly subdued and I took off for the store and the safety of my father. He couldn’t believe my story, but soon it was being told by others. Nothing was ever done to McKinney as it was all settled between the parties. Baughman sold cars for Miley Brothers and it all had to do with a car deal.
Before we leave restaurant owners, we must mention the dean of all men restaurant owners. This man was Grover Bud Fluke, grandfather of Mikki Allen. He was in several places, but the most famous was where Swanson’s Plumbing is now. He was a good cook, fine personality, and jolly all the time. He and his wife Nettie worked together, and their following was unbelievable. It was a short-order place and all the cooking was done where one could watch from your seat at the counter. I remember when tables were added. The sign in the window said “Tables for Ladies.”
One of the features of the place was called a delight. It was hamburger flattened out on the grill to about the size of a small place. This was cooked to about seventy-five percent done. To this was added a bowl of fried chopped potatoes and onions that had a raw egg stirred into it. The meat was then folded over, making a large turnover. A little more frying and it was ready. Buttered kraut was often the favorite side dish. The air was blue, but smelled wonderful.
I have told this before, but it will bear repeating. One of the persons at a table called for service. Bud called to Nettie, asking where Hazel was. Nettie replied that she had fired her. “Why?” he asked. She said, “Because she was eating the pickles from the plate as she took sandwiches to the tables.”
Before closing this restaurant story, I must mention Dick Kelley’s place. It stood where The Sampler stands now. Dick was a jovial black man and his drawing card was a five cent hamburger, or fifty cents a dozen. His wife did the cooking as Dick did odd jobs about town.
Chariton’s greatest explosion -
This took place in an old tile and brick building that stood where D.L. Smith Hardware Store stood in later years. This old building was acquired by the Handler Brothers, Sam and Aaron. The business consisted of several ventures. Hide buying was a big item with them and added a beautiful aroma to the area, especially in the summertime. They also bought and sold junk. Baled hay was the mainstay of the business. Baled was rather a new thing and was rapidly becoming more popular in that form. We had a slaughter house and Father sold his hides to this partnership. Father could get along with most everyone, and found Sam and Aaron to be honest and fair.
One cold winter evening the partners closed the place at 5:30 p.m. At 6 p.m. there was a terrific blast that blew out the front, demolished the roof, and fire gutted the building. The windows in our building across the street west were knocked out by flying tile pieces and bricks. Two teams of jenny and jack mules were outside the store. They got quite a few cuts, but didn’t run off. Knowing mules, they felt it was easier to be hit than use the energy to run off.
The State Fire Marshall finding was that the blast came from the stove as it was blown to bits. It wasn’t unusual for people to hear little popping noises coming from their stoves. This was due to a residue of blasting powder that had been used in mining the coal. How such a large quantity got in the stove was a mystery. The ruling was that it was possible for dynamite to be in the coal and the fire set it off.
The hotel had not been built. Neither had the cement block building just north. A livery barn was in back of the blast site, but as the blast blew forward, not much damage was done there. Old Betsy, the fire department’s pumper, put out the fire. Jim Baker was the fire chief.
A short time later, John and Harriet Risser of this church bought this ruined building and built a new one on this site. They had secured the Baby Overland Car agency. This car was to be compared with the Model T. Ford. Later, Rissers built a new building where the Pontiac Garage was for years. Mrs. Risser was our choir director for years. Ray Shepherd, also of our church, and husband of Gladys Shepherd, was with the Rissers and was elected Sheriff of Lucas County while working there.
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