Rogers Malt Shoppe

The street where I grew up, most all the neighbors worked at NASA or in the Oil Industry. All except one, our next-door neighbor, the Rogers. They owned and operated a Malt Shop in town. Going to Rogers was something I think everyone in our small town of Dickinson, Texas, did. It was a great place to hang out. They had the best hamburgers and chocolate malts.

One summer, when I was about 13 or 14 years old, Mr. Rogers asked me to mow their lawn while their son, Dwight, was on vacation. I gladly took the job. I mowed it each of the two weeks Dwight was out of town. After I finished the job both times, I hopped on my green Schwinn banana seat bike and rode to the Malt Shop to collect my pay. When I walked in, Mr. Rogers asked, “The usual?” I replied, “Yes, please”. He wrote down the order and put it where the kitchen staff would see it. Then he yelled, “One naked burger.” I like hamburgers with nothing on them, just meat and bread. Then he started to make the chocolate malt. These were real malts, not the chocolate shakes we have today.

I sat at one of the tables near the windows so I could watch the cars go by. Mr. Rogers brought my lunch over and said, “This is all you want for mowing the yard?” I replied that this was perfect. I am not sure who got the better end of the deal; I think I did because those hamburgers and malts were awesome.

I don’t know why I thought of this when I woke up this morning, but I am glad I did. Those times when we were young and free seem like the best of our lives.