Pennsylvania Parks and Diners

Part One

Photo courtesy of Diner City

I love diners. I've loved them since the age of 6, when my Dad used to take me to Margaret's Cafe, a cute, little Valentine diner made of pink cinder block and 1950s art deco signage. It was here that I learned about diner foods, and that, as my father said, "you just can't get food like this anywhere else." My favorite meal then was chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. Thirty five years have passed, and my love for diners has only increased. Margaret's Cafe has since gone the way of so many diners across the country. It was demolished to make room for a Taco Bell, the victim of what we in America like to call "progress." Fortunately, there are a number of areas in the country where diners are not only surviving but prospering. Though their numbers may have dwindled, from an all-time high of 6,000 in the late 50's to their current number of just over 2000, many diners have managed to stave off the encroaching roads of progress that condemned less fortunate establishments to the wrecking ball and the annals of history. All of them have had to fight for their survival, thanks to high property taxes, expensive lease agreements, and the ever greedy machinations of real estate developers. But, thankfully, some cities, towns and neighborhoods have had the foresight to appreciate the historical and aesthetic value of diners, and many of its citizens continue to shun the chance to dine at Applebee's or TGIF's in favor of the old town diner. One such area where diners thrive is Pennsylvania. While no diners were ever built here (a Philadelphia company reconditioned some older diners in the 40's and 50s but did not manufacture any) so many were shipped to this state that one company opened a branch office in Philadelphia just to take orders! Today, over 250 diners are operating in the state. They are located on the main streets of small, dying towns in the heart of Pennsylvania's coal country, and on the fringes of commercial district in the state's biggest cities. Regardless of their location, diners in this part of the country are taken for granted. In the rest of the country they are seen as a novelty, but here they are typical gathering places for the town's citizenry, a place where elderly gentlemen come for their morning coffee, where young college students go after a night on the town, and where politicians come to meet and greet the public. They are a part of the fabric of life. So it was that I decided to plan a trip exploring the state's diners. Naturally I opted to include roller-coasters in my plans, as Pennsylvania is also my favorite state for coasters. But it was diners that prompted this trip and were the primary focus of my plans. My original idea was to visit 10 diners on this trip, but I ended up only going to 9. The one rule on this trip was that I would only eat in diners, unless I were at an amusement park. No TGIFriday's for me. First, a short lesson on diners for the uninitiated. While there are many variations in styles and manufacturers, there are primarly five distinct architectural styles of diners, each reflecting a particular period in American architectural history. They are: Barrel Roof. Built primarily in the early teens to the mid-thirties, Barrel Roof diners are easily recognized by their distinguished rounded roofs, and characterized by porcelain enamel exteriors, porcelain enamel interior ceilings, marble counters, honeycomb tile floors, and cooking that is done behind the counter. Modern Stainless. This is probably the most recognized of all diner styles, with the introduction of stainless steel to the exterior. It is the use of stainless steel that has come to symbolize the diner of today. Modern stainless diners were built in the late 30's to the mid-50's and incorporated the use of glass block in some models. Interiors include stainless steel backwall behind the counter, tile walls, and formica countertops and ceilings. Cooking is done behind the counter or in an attached kitchen. Exaggerated Modern. The coolest of all diner designs, exaagerated modern style is easily recognized by it's striking angular shapes, large windows, flared canopies with recessed lights, and flat roof. Interiors have terrazzo floors in pink or green, and tiered ceilings with a mirror strip. There is no cooking behind the counter. Environmental. This was all the rage in the 60's and 70s. Original environmental diners are often very attractive, but many older diners fell victim to hideous makeovers using environmental elements. Typical facades include the use of stone or brick, mansard roofs, and either colonial traits like coach lamps, or Mediterranean traits like pillars or arched windows. Interiors contain wood grain, copper fixtures, faux wooden beams, wagon wheel chandeliers, and a heavy emphasis on the color brown. No cooking is done behind the counter. Postmodern. This is the current design being used in what has become a revival of the nostalgic diner. It is basically a reinterpretation of many of the classic diner elements. Stainless steel, glass block, black-and-white checkered walls, and formica tables and counters. Neon trim is typical, as is the most distinguished feature of the postmodern design, a huge, glass block vestibule. No cooking is done behind the counter. There are also concrete structures such as the adorable Valentine Diners that are manufactured out of Wichita, KS. But for the purposes of this report we will focus on the five main architectural styles. So! Let's start our journey, shall we? I arrived in Pittsburgh and immediately headed east. My destination: Williams Grove Amusement Park, in the tiny town of Mechanicsburg. I'd never been to Williams Grove before, and everything I'd heard about it indicated that it was really weird and really old fashioned. I had heard they had very odd operating hours, so I knew not to arrive before one or two o'clock in the afternoon. Photo courtesy of Ronald Saari and Diner City So what better way to while away the hours than to make my first stop at a diner! I drove to the town of Somerset and headed for the Summit Diner. Of all the diners I encountered on my trip I think this was the most architecturally interesting. The Summit was built by Swingle in 1960, and is the first example of environmentalism introduced into diner design. The result is a hybrid of period styles. A modern stainless steel exterior with alternating strips of gold and unusual steel corner pylons is met inside by a diner in transition. Environmental elements are everywhere, with faux wood beams stretched across the ceiling, acoustic ceiling tiles, wagon wheel chandeliers, wood paneling, and counter stools with seatbacks! A copper clock is incorporated into a vent hood, and all the tables and countertops are covered with wood-grain formica. At first I was taken aback with each new discovery, but the overall effect was easy on the eye and in fact quite charming! Now one thing I should mention about diners. There is a misconception that diners and "greasy spoons" are one and the same. They are not. Diners are known and loved for providing good food at fair prices. Greasy spoons are small, shoddy restaurants that have none of the structural components of diners. They are tucked into already existing buildings and have capitalized on the good reputation of diners by incorporating the word "diner" into their name. A dive is still a dive no matter what name it takes. Avoid these places at all costs. I mention this now because my choice for lunch was chipped beef on toast. Now I know, I know what you're thinking. Greasy spoon food, right? Shit on a shingle, right? WRONG. Chipped beef on toast is a staple on diner menus, and when it's made properly I can't begin to describe how good it is. What caught my attention is that all meat at the Summit Diner is cut and ground on the premises. Their sausage has been made and seasoned the same way ever since the place opened in 1960. And when I asked the waitress what she recommended and she replied "chipped beef on toast" I said "really?" She then told me about the way they do things at the Summit and that their beef is cured on site. Well that was all I needed to hear. I said "okay then!" and five minutes later my food arrived. And oh my god, was it good. I wasn't even that hungry, and I wolfed it down in no time flat. Incredibly seasoned, just the right thickness of cream, and wonderfully tasty. Didn't even need pepper! I also had a side order of hashbrowns which were equally good. One of the things that draws me to diners is that the atmosphere is friendlier than any other eating venue. The counter lends itself to open conversation among strangers, and because of their close proximity to the counter customers, the waitresses tend to join in. The conversations are always engaging, open and very casual. And so it was on this day at the Summit, where one waitress and a group of three men sitting at the counter engaged in a lighthearted and protracted contest to see who could name the thirteen original colonies. "Okay, Delaware....." "I think Florida was one....." "Florida? No, I don't think so, they're too far south." "Okay then, South Carolina........ you sure about Florida?" "How about PENN-SYL-VAN-I-A!?!?" (laughter) "I coulda swore Florida was in there...." "(sigh) Lemme ask one of the cooks........HEY WAS FLORIDA ONE OF THE THIRTEEN ORIGINAL COLONIES?" "Let's see now, we got Delaware...... Pennsylvania.....South Carolina....." "Why South Carolina? Why not NORTH Carolina?" "I don't know, I got South Carolina." "But how can you say South Carolina and not North Carolina?" "I don't know." "I mean doesn't it follow that if you're gonna say South Carolina you'd come back with North Carolina, too?" "I don't know, I was in Florida and I was working my way back up, I got South Carolina." "But GEORGIA is above Florida!" "Okay then, Georgia, too." "HOW CAN YOU SAY SOUTH CAROLINA AND NOT NORTH CAROLINA!" "The cook says he doesn't know about Florida...." They went on and on like that, the entire time I ate my lunch. It was hilarious, a classic diner conversation. I left the Summit Diner completely satisfied and headed for Williams Grove. I was told the park would be hard to find since it's not on or even near a major road. It wasn't hard to find, but it is definitely nestled in an out of the way, wooded area. Williams Grove is like taking a major step back in time. I don't think I can adequately describe the place and do it justice. It is beautiful and a little scary. It is SO unique and SO hometown, I don't think I've ever been to any place quite like it. Photo courtesy of RideZone I guess the best adjective to use to describe Williams Grove is backward. It sounds insulting, but I don't mean it that way. But it IS backward, both literally and figuratively. I arrived and paid my two dollars for parking to a guy who was sitting on a metal folding chair in the middle of a gravel driveway. No booth, no sign other than the hand drawn one resting next to the folding chair that said simply "$2.00" It didn't even say "Parking $2.00," it simply read "$2.00." I pulled onto the grass lot only to find what looked like some type of odd fair. There was nobody attending the fair, yet several booths were open selling food and automotive repair products. Occasionally a loud speaker made odd announcements to an empty fairground. I walked into the park entrance, only to find that I was in the back of the park. In order to get my tickets I would need to purchase them at a booth near the front. Why is there parking in the back of the park and not a ticket booth? I walked toward the front of the park and had a good look around. If you like the look of a small, traditional park, Williams Grove is beautiful. In fact, it is timeless. Tall trees completely shade the entire park, and a small, lazy river meanders through a good portion of it. The rides are classic - a Twister, Monster, Tilt-a-Whirl, Musik Express, bumper cars, a fun house, a dark ride, lots of kiddie rides, and of course the wooden roller-coaster, Cyclone. Nobody was here on this day, there couldn't have been more than 25 people in the park. When I told the ticket lady I wanted to buy a ride-all-day pass she said "Why?" I laughed because it took me off guard and because she seemed genuinely sincere. I said "because I want to ride the rides!" She said "Okay, but we'll only be open another two hours." I said "that's okay" and she shook her head and counted my money. I got my ride-all-day wristband, which was actually a piece of string the woman cut from a ball of twine and tied it around my wrist. I immediately went to the Cyclone. Luckily four of the 25 people in the park were waiting to ride it, as the attendant said he needed a minimum of 5 people before he could send it out. I took a seat in the back, the attendant pulled the brake release lever, gave the train a good shove, and we were off! The Williams Grove Cyclone is unlike any other roller-coaster in the world. It looks like somebody hand made it. Somebody who didn't know how. It is a bizarrely constructed coaster that in all honesty wouldn't have surprised me in the least if it had collapsed while we were riding it. And yet it is a blast! I absolutely loved it! It has airtime and weird drops and a final jump onto the brake run that looks as though the track had been constructed at a 90 degree angle. It's without a doubt the weirdest roller-coaster I've ever ridden. I got three rides on the Cyclone before the other four riders decided to leave. The attendant told me he thought they were going to be closing soon, so I quickly went over to the Twister for a ride. The attendant there asked me if I wanted a long ride, to which I said yes! And so I got my first ride on a Twister, which has incredibly intense spinning action at times. A lot depends on the skill of the ride operator, who can adjust the speeds at different times which increases the intensity of the spinning. Next I rode the dark ride, called Dante's Inferno, which turned out to be an excellent haunted house. I had the same attendant here as the one at the Twister. He simply ran over to the Haunted House and released my car. After I got out he asked "do you want to go again?" and I said "sure!" A very friendly kid and yet there was just something strange about him. There was something strange about all the people working here. They just seemed to be from another era. After my second ride on Dante's Inferno, the kid asked me if I wanted to ride Twister again. I told him not right now but I would be back. I then went over to ride the Monster and then the Fun House. The Fun House is easily one of the best I've been in, and definitely one of the biggest. But the noise it makes is incredible! It's a mechanical racket that sounds like a thousand washing machines gone awry! I couldn't figure out what could possibly be making such an awful racket until I got into a large room that had rows and rows of moving floors going back and forth. It was the floors moving that made all that racket. You are up quite high in the fun house at this point, and when I looked down I saw a ride attendant sitting in a chair in the last room. I couldn't believe he wasn't wearing some type of hearing protection. It would drive me positively mad! I walked back over to check out the Cyclone but no one was around. I then went over to the Twister for my last ride and the attendant told me they were closing the park due to low crowds and approaching rain. So I headed out the back way and took one last look at the weirdest amusement park I have ever been to. I can't wait to go back. Up Next: Day Two - Gettysburg and more diners