The Roadhouse Story

I’m not really sure when the first roadhouse started, and it’s possible the first person to start one probably didn’t even know it either. But I guess around the end of world war II when things has settled down a wee bit, people in North America where getting itchy feet and starting to head out on the open roads in their 57 Chevy’s, flathead Fords, Dodges, Chryslers and rag top Caddies, and of course, my favorite mode of travel, Milwaukee’s iron horse, the Harley-Davidson. So it’s here I can picture some enterprising couple, standing on the side of Route 66 or similar, and saying to themselves, “I bet all these travelers could use a home cooked meal and a cold beer. And besides the neighbors around here need a joint to hang out in when they don’t feel like firing up the oven at home and want to get out to socialize some. 

So off goes Ralf (or could have been a Stan), and starts to bang up a shed on the end of the house, while Ruby (the little Missus) gets to work on pot roasts and apple pies. It’s not long before the little house on the side of the road is open for business and as those who stopped, ate and refreshed, enjoyed all that was on offer. Maybe they could not quite remember if the place was called Ralf’s, or was it Ruby’s? But never mind sure was a great place that Roadhouse…. And so the story goes; my story anyway and I’m sticking to it.

One thing for sure, Ralf & Ruby’s Roadhouse made all who entered feel welcome and special. The locals socialized and caught up on the news from travelers blowing in from “who knows where” and heading out to “where ever”. Sports were a hot topic and a few beers where won and lost over the pool table. The best thing though, was the food. Always homemade, always yummy and served in generous portions to ensure no one went away hungry.

Fifty odd years later Roadhouse Restaurants are still going strong in North America, some are now big chains and franchises with fancy sounding names with fake wood and vainer tables surrounded by reproduction antiques. Some, like Ralf & Ruby’s are still out there, flipp’en burgers and sliding an ice cold beer down the solid wood bar top, as music waffles out of a jukebox that still holds 45’s! Three songs for a quarter. Or at least I’d like to think so.

Scribbled by Sarge