The big loss isn't that we can't get Elder's fried chicken anymore. The big loss is that Elder's is a Quincy tradition. A gazillion Quincyans have gone there simply because it's, well, Elder's. The servers were nice and the food decent and the prices reasonable, and people felt comfortable. There are lots of places like this in Quincy and it's part of the small-town river town charm.
Why not relocate? Well, Elder's is Elder's because it's at 18th and State, and it's been there a million years. If you move it, and moving isn't cheap endeavor, there's no guarantee it will work. And there are lots of great choices for restaurants in town, and thank god we aren't talking about Olive Gardens or Red Lobsters.
A restaurant is as much about atmosphere and comfort level as it is about food, service and price. And you really don't need a reason to like a place if you, well, just like it. I'm sure there were tons of local connections and friendships involved with Quincy's love affair with Elder's.
A piece of Quincy goes with Elder's closing, and it's a sad day, indeed.
My years in high school and open lunch brought me to a corner booth one day. My high school friends insisted on eating here and I was soon ordering thier giant pork tenderloin sandwich with side order of crispy fries and ice cold Pepsi.
ReplyDeleteSharing a meal with your best friends at Elders is burned into my mind and some forty-two years later, I found myself enjoying that same meal as I am a creature of habit. Like most people who were born in Quincy, I find myself sitting on the wall at Riverview park after checking out the old neighborhood. Slipping out Broadway for a Maidrite or State Street for Elders.
Some things are bound to change like the price of a Maidrite or the size of a tenderloin sandwich. Running through the fountain at Washington Park in the summer heat was frowned upon. Now it's encouraged and our main drag during the evenings through the downtow strip is no longer. Hanging out at Scotties rollar rink or downtown battle of the bands are all gone.
What remains is one good reporter who owns the last of the great music shops and a river that is sure to rise every spring. Keep those memories safe Rodney. You are this generations Carl Landrum.
Thanks for the memories,
Charlie Glasgow