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The Eagle Café My father Neal Duffy Crothers Sr. was the foreman at a cottonseed mill in Visalia, California at the start o World War II. My story begins April 1942. Jake removed the glove from his right hand and extended it to Neal to give him a hearty Irishman handshake. “It feels good to be back to work.” After shaking hands they both put their gloves back on. “I was sorry to hear about your father, Jake.” Neal poured two cups of coffee from his thermos. The aroma quickly blended with the smell of the cottonseed. “My dad had been sick for a long time before he died. I think he worked too hard in that damn restaurant.” “He had to close the restaurant when he became sick two years ago. I had to place it on the market while I was up there in Point Richmond. I think I have a buyer.” “Whereabouts is Point Richmond?” “Right across the bay from San Francisco. There are people all over the place since they stated up the shipyards and changed over the Ford plant to build jeeps. And there are only two restaurants open. They can’t feed everyone and it is causing a problem.” “You shouldn’t have a problem selling the restaurant if there are hungry people needing a place to eat.” Neal turned into the driveway and saw his son trying to float a clothespin in a small puddle of rainwater. His wife, Eunice, was taking clothes down from the clothesline. She turned around, “Junior, quit playing in that water this instant.” Neal walked over to Eunice and started helping her with the clothes. “How did you manage to get these dry on a rainy day?” She looked at him with tired eyes. “By taking them down when it rained and putting them back up when it stopped four times. How was it at work today?” “Jake came back to work today. I sure love the smell of fresh clean clothes and he buried his face in the bath towel he was holding. Neal, stop that. You’ll get it dirty. Did you tell him we were sorry about his father?” “Yes I did. He said his father left a restaurant that he’s trying to sell.” Neal told her everything Jake said and carried the basket of clothes to the back porch. He picked up a large bucket and walked back outside. “Junior, would you like to help me slop the pigs?” The next morning Neal was in the kitchen making coffee when Eunice walked in. “What are you doing up so early, Neal?” “I didn’t sleep too good last night. I kept thinking about the restaurant.” “What’s there to think about?” “I kept thinking about all those workers needing a place to eat. There could be a lot of money made opening up another restaurant.” The coffee began perking too fast and boiled over on the flame of the stove turning it into a noisy steamy mess. She quickly turned the stove off. “You’re not thinking of buying that restaurant? You can’t even boil water right.” “We could hire a cook.” She looked in his eyes. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Where would you get the money?” “I could borrow it from Jack.” “Do you think your brother would loan you the money he got for his whiskey business?” “He owes me a favor.” “Just because you went to jail in Oklahoma for a year for not telling the revenuers where Jack’s still was hid doesn’t mean he’ll loan you money. Buying and running a restaurant…you can’t be serious Neal.” “Serious enough to talk to Jake about it.” And black smoke began rising up from the flip toaster.” “I have been thinking about your restaurant. How much would it take to buy and get it open?” “You’re not thinking about buying it are you, Neal?” “I have been giving it some thought.” Jake was silent for a few moments and began to smile. “If anyone could open that restaurant and make it work it would be you. I’m asking $1,500 for the restaurant and it will probably cost another $500 to get it open. Damn, Neal. Do you really think you could make it work?” “I have a brother I can get the money from. There’s nothing I have set my mind to that I didn’t get done.” There was no housing available, so Neal and his family lived in the storage room behind the restaurant. A little over three months later there was a knock on the door. “Well howdy, Jack Come on in.” “I need to talk to you outside.” Neal stepped out and closed the door. “Is there something wrong with Ma, jack?” Jack was over 20 years older and had been in World War I. He was always serious, never joked and had an Irish temper. “You said 90 days. I want my money.” “I don’t have any money to give you.” Jack reached out and grabbed Neal by the shirt collar. “I want my goddamn money and I want it now, you bastard.” And he drew back his fist. Neal had seen jack like this before and knew what was coming. He ducked and Jack’s fist slammed into the wooden wall. “Son of a bitch.” Jack screamed as he grabbed his injured hand. Eunice heard the noise, opened the door and saw Jack holding Neal in a bear hug. She picked up a broom and hit Jack on the head with the handle knocking him down. “I’ll hit you in your manhood if you try to get up,” she shouted as she stood over the moaning man. Doris, the oldest daughter, went to the door to see what the commotion was. Junior and baby sister, Joyce, began crying. Eunice turned toward Doris. “Doris, go back inside and look after the little ones.” Neal looked down at his brother. “I wouldn’t move if I were you. Eunice got pretty good using a broom handle working in that boardinghouse full of men.” “I’m not moving, but I want my money.” “I ran out of money trying to buy enough supplies and we can’t open if we don’t have food to sell. If you want your money back you’ll have to loan me $500 more so we can open and I can make the money to pay you back.” Jack lay there with one hand on the back of his head and the other covering his midsection. “You mean I have to loan you more to get back what you owe me?” “That’s about the fist of it, Jack.” Jack was silent for a moment. “Okay, I’ll loan you $500 more and no time limit. Now call her off so I can get up.” After waiting in a line for almost an hour it was Neal’s turn. “What can I do to get more meat rations? I have a restaurant to open.” I’m sorry, Sir, but the rules are one pound per family per week.” He heard a voice behind him. “I’m the mayor and even I can’t get more meat.” The man behind the meat counter said. “Next.” Neal picked up the one pound of meat in disgust. As he walked by the mayor she said, “What restaurant do you have?” “The Eagle Café in Point Richmond.” “I’m having a meeting with the other restaurant owners tomorrow night to see if we can find a way to get more rations. We have thousands of workers not getting enough food to eat. Something needs to be done.” “Well, gentleman. What are we going to do?” The mayor asked. Cliff, the owner of the Lighthouse Restaurant was the fist to speak. “I heard there is beef for sale on the black market up in Reno, Nevada but you need to know the right people.” “What people are you speaking of?” The mayor inquired. Sam, who owns the Eagle Creamery, was next to speak. “Some guy by the name of Nick Torrino. You know him and you got beef.” The mayor saw Neal smiling. “What are you smiling about?” “I know him. He’s dating my sis-in-law, Claudia. I knew he was in the black market but I didn’t know it was meat.” “If you get him to sell you beef, Sam and I will pay for your part,” Cliff said. “You get that beef, Neal, and I’ll get you back across the California border with it.” The mayor added. Nick was dressed in a black pinstripe suit sitting behind a large wooden desk. “You want beef, pork, chicken or eggs? You name it and you got it. But you need to do something for me.” “And what’s that?” Neal asked. “Claudia says she wants to go to work and make her own money. You put her to work as a waitress in your restaurant. I’ll give you money on the side to give her, but don’t tell her. And give her time off from work when I’m in town.” They finally opened the restaurant with a retired cook, Eunice and Claudia as waitresses and Neal dishwashing and peeling potatoes. The cook could only stay on her feet for eight hours. When she was off they served soup and sandwiches until they were too tired to work and would close the doors with people waiting outside. One day Neal interviewed a beautiful red headed woman. “What is your name?” She smiled and said, “Red.” This brought a smile to his face. “Can you cook?” “No.” She replied. “Can you do waitress work?” “Does a horse know the way aback to the barn?” Her answer brought another smile to his face. “How soon can you start, Red?” A customer sitting at a table with four other men shouted. “When do we get waited on?” Neal looked toward the voice then back at Red. “How soon can you start?” She scanned the busy restaurant. “How about right now?” This made Neal give his biggest smile. “I’ll get you an apron and order pad.” Red put the apron on and a piece of gum in her mouth. “Okay guys, who’s next?” Neal walked into the kitchen while Mary, the cook, was doing her pre cooking. She had just opened the oven and removed fresh baked biscuits. The aroma was quickly taking over the kitchen. “I need to talk to you, Mary,” Neal said trying to stand out of the way. Mary was using her apron to hold the hot pan of biscuits. “You better talk fast. I’m busy.” “I was wondering if you would teach me how to cook.” Mary was silent. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset his only cook. A minute went by before she finely spoke. “I don’t teach.” “We need another cook so that we can give you a spell and also stay open longer.” “We need two more cooks.” Mary answered. “Teach me how to cook and I’ll teach Eunice. Well, how about it, Mary?” “I don’t teach.” “What in the hell am I supposed to do?” Mary stopped and looked at Neal. “Go get that bar stool out of the storage room and bring it here.” Neal returned with the barstool. “Now what?” “Sit down on it and watch everything I do. And don’t bother me, I’m busy.” Neal sat on the bar stool for three days before she would let him near the grill and stove. The Eagle Café stayed open 24 hours a day and fed thousands of workers during the war. |
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