This came in conversation today. It dates back to May of 2012. I wrote about it here. We were in a small town barbecue restaurant and Big Will, the owner, came out from the kitchen to say hello.
My contemporary notes:
Somehow we got on the subject of The Yankee being from Connecticut …
He then reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out a .45. She jumped. We laughed. It was a great joke.
There were six people at the table. Five of us were from the South. Only one of us was surprised when he produced his pistol.
She was genuinely afraid, but he was just making a joke, of course. She tried to hide behind me. Someone pointed out she’d need to get more cover than that.
Sometime later he went back out to his truck and brought back his AR-15.
That place opened in 2011. Will said he’d previously been a machinist, but that there had been a car accident in the family. The restaurant, then, was a way to for the family to spend more time together. And, there it was. Will’s wife was working in the store on a slow May day. His daughter was singing for an audience of six. (She was good, too.) It was as small-town as you could get.
It looks like the place closed last year. That’d be a shame. The world is suffering from a shortage of good barbecue.
