The Wig Wag was my favorite of all of Eric's restaurants. It was in the same building as the Kowbell Kitchen but the cowbell was missing. I asked Hazel about this one day and she said, with a sly grin: "oh, that noisy thing...it disappeared one night and it was never found." I suspect she knew more than she was telling.

There was a regular customer who used to come in and chat with Hazel. He worked in the gas station across the street while he finished law school. His name was Gene and I once heard him say to Hazel: "You know, Hazel, if you weren't married, I'd propose to you on the spot." She replied: "Well, I have a sister and I'm sure she'd love to meet you."

I didn't stop by for a few weeks because my route got busy. When I stopped in again for lunch, Hazel told me that her sister, Clara, had started seeing Gene. I heard a few years later that they had married. I'm sure they had many happy years together.

I met a gal at lunch near the end of Summer 1934 and after a few more conversations over sandwiches at the Wig Wag, I asked her if she liked to dance. She was excited by the idea and I said I'd find a dance hall and we could go. The problem was, I didn't know of a dance hall in the area. I asked Eric and to my happy surprise, he told me he was hosting the Inaugural Dance of the Wig Wag Athletic Club in a few weeks and and "would I like to attend?"

My prayers were answered and I let my lady-friend in on all the details. You see, I once considered myself a good dancer and, in those days, there was nothing I liked better than a night on the town at a dance with a pretty girl. The evening was fabulous and I noticed Eric going from table to table chatting with the guests. My date and I enjoyed ourselves and danced for hours. I saved my ticket from that night and can still remember her perfume as we danced cheek-to-cheek.

Eric contracted with a local brewery to exclusively sell their beer in 26 oz. glasses for 25¢ a glass. It was tasty beer and just the thing to wash down one of his burgers with "the works." He even typed up some drinking songs and we all got to singing on Saturday nights after a couple of glasses.
It felt like being in a fraternity because we had the usual crew every week and you could almost count on each guy sitting at his favorite counter stool whenever you stopped by. Eric never drank on the job so he could keep an eye out to make sure things never got too out of hand.

I was a regular at The Wig Wag for years and I noticed that business had started to taper off. One day Eric came in and told me he was closing down and opening up a smaller restaurant down the street called Eric's Place.

Intro |  Kowbell Kitchen  |  Wig Wag  |  Eric's Place