Curtis Johnson | + Follow Poet |
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A Little Cafe That Could

There was a long serving counter, high revolving chairs, and café smells.
There was a special taste of hamburgers served at this southern segregated café.  My first encounter with the café and the tasty burgers was more than 50 years ago during those Jim Crow days of my childhood.

On a very busy block of a street called Issaquena was an eatery with two sides; one side for whites and the other for blacks.  I never heard otherwise, but I would be shocked if those tasty juicy hamburgers had any stench of segregation in them.  I’m confident that they were prepared by the same cook and equally fantastic on both sides.

I could never forget that little café and its mouth-watering burgers so memorable from my childhood bygone years.  There’s a slight chance that it might still be there.  But maybe not.  Maybe the little café with those tasty burgers is holding its own against the likes of the Big Macs and the whoppers.  Or maybe not.  Perhaps it had to give way to new development or an urban renewal project.  Or maybe not.  

One can only hope that some things are forever.  The fast food burger chains of today can never replace the taste of the homely hamburgers that I came to love.  Those were bygone years of a time before hormonal injections, when people never asked, “What’s in this meat?” or, “Where’s the beef?”

I do not remember the café’s name, but I could never forget that ‘longed for taste’ of those burgers or its location.  There was so much history made and life being lived in that little area of town.  I am certain that these dear people also experienced and smelt the aroma of those burgers as they lingered close by.

It would be great to see those people again.  If I should visit that street again, I suspect that  non would be there.  For sure, I will be looking for the burger shop.  But if not there, the burgers and the people will always be a part of me wherever I go.  If that café is not there, I shall determine to stand where it once stood and say, “Thanks for the memories".

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