The Hot Dog Chronicles: Pac Man Fever Birthdays

It was the 80s.  The world had Pac Man Fever.  And Sandy's caught the first strain.

While Dad was traveling, he saw a tabletop video game called Space Invaders.  He said to himself, "This is going to be big, and we need to get on board."  By 1981, there were over 40 video games in the Sandy's shop across from the USC Horseshoe.  

That Sandy's location began as one fourth of a little apartment building.  Not long after opening, Dad  rented another fourth next door, and filled it from front to back with arcade games.  USC students filled the space.  One entire half of the store was like its own arcade.  

In 2025, you may not realize how exciting this was for a 5th grader.  Go ask your parents.  In the early 1980s, we had two past-times:  roller skating and the mall. At the mall, my friends and I were heading to Hallmark to buy Snoopy posters and Smurfs, but the boys from school were at the arcade at the other end.  They played games for as many hours as they were allowed, or until their quarters ran out.

Imagine a hot dog shop  slammed with customers lining up outside to buy Super Slaw Dogs.  Then imagine doubling the size of that shop, and filling it with every new arcade game.  And you can bet we had every new game, because Bud Sanderson does nothing in a small way.  He goes big, and when possible, he goes first.

Simultaneously, two brothers were becoming local radio personalities.  Woody and Leo Windham had a show called "Woody with the Goodies."  They were fun and hilarious, and we all listened to them.  It was South Carolina in the 80s, and we were all about beach music and shagging. Woody and Leo were playing the music and joking in between.  

Dad got an advertising spot on their show, and Woody coined the phrase, "How 'bout them dawgs?!"  He and Leo would bellow it over the radio during morning traffic.  It was catchy, and people would call it out to my dad in the store and on the street.  By then, there had been some tv news spots and articles in The State newspaper about a little hot dog business that was growing like crazy in Lexington and Columbia.  Eleven stores opened in eleven consecutive years.  But at this point, we were only into the first few.  Woody and Leo did great advertising, but were all also big fans of the food and friends with my dad.  I think we may have gotten a lot of free advertising based on how much they liked the food.

Sandy's was growing, but so was I.  Back to the birthday parties.

My birthday parties were basically a hot dog, ice cream, and video game free-for-all.  My most memorable involved George Rogers who had just won the Heisman Trophy while playing for the USC Gamecocks.  Okay, I'll admit I had no idea who he was at the time, but you can bet some of the kids at the party did.  On my 11th birthday, Rogers was at Sandy's eating dinner like he regularly did.  My dad knew him as a great customer.  In fact, he had a two-player football video game Rogers loved to play.  Recently I asked Dad, "Who played with him?"  My dad said, "Whoever he wanted.  He was George Rogers."  So as they chatted and said hi, kids started arriving for the party.  He signed Sandy's napkins for all of us who met him.

After ordering whatever we wanted, Dad gave each kid a giant Sandy's cup full of video game tokens, or maybe they were still quarters at that point, I don't know.  I just remember pie-eyed sixth graders receiving them as if they were sacred offering and running to spend them.  Some of them were deciding so carefully which games to play that Dad said, "You know you can just come get more when you run out, right?  I know where to get more."  

Later, we went upstairs to cut the cake with John Travolta drawn in icing.  I'd taken a photograph of him in the movie Two of a Kind - no it was not a hit with anyone but his die hard fans - and the confounded bakery woman did her best.  This was before any kind of icing technology and it was a mess of black icing.  You really don't want a headshot of someone with black hair on a birthday cake.  We ate, and with black teeth, ran back to play more games.

It was a good way to turn 11.

 

 

The Hot Dog Chronicles: Merch, a Love Story

In middle school, I met a boy named Scott Jackson.  He said, "Oh I remember you from elementary school.  You're the girl who wore Sandy's shirts everyday."  He wasn't wrong.

We had boxes and boxes of new Sandy's shirts in our garage.  They were for employees to wear, but really they were for us and our friends and family.  For over 40 years, there was stash of some sort of merch between the two parked cars.

I was eight when the first location opened.  Having an endless supply of new colorful t-shirts to choose from every morning was a dream.  However, if you ask my mom, she says, "That first year, we were way too busy for laundry.  When you needed to get dressed, I'd just say go to the garage and pick a shirt."

If you were a friend who came to sleep over, but forgot a night shirt, you'd probably get a Sandy's shirt.  If you wanted to swim, but didn't have a change of clothes, you'd get a Sandy's shirt.  Oh wait, is the sun in your eyes?  Good news, the new Sandy's visors just arrived.  

Our house was so full of shirts, they became commonplace eventually.  Recently, I was dusting with my mom and found one of the very first shirts.  It is the only one we have with the original logo.  It is also the only one with a spot of Old English on it.  I freaked out.  "MOM WHY IS THIS IS THE RAG BOX? IT IS ANTIQUE!  IT'S THE ONLY ONE WE'VE GOT."  She was amused, and unbothered.  "Not at the time I put it in the box, it wasn't."  Don't worry, y'all.  I've taken the rest of the "heirlooms" to a safe unknown location.

Dad was generous with the merchandise.  Every bit was advertising after all.  In 1981, painter's caps were a trend.  If you're young and unfamiliar with them, they were sort of papery baseball caps with short bills.  I've never seen a painter wear one, by the way.  But all of my fifth grade class did.  Dad sent me to school with a hundred caps designed with the Sandy's logo.  Surely, we got it approved first.  I don't know how I worked it into my book report or what reason I gave for showing with a crate of (free advertising) hats, but everyone in that grade at Harbison West Elementary had one by lunch.  We tramped around the playground like tiny tradesmen.

I really think my dad liked design as much as any other part of the business.  One of main memories of those years is of him sitting at the dining room table laying out ads for The State newspaper.  The signage on the stores, the menus, the shirts...he loved all of it.  Choosing exactly how the shops would look and flow was all him too.  While working with Eckerd Drugs, he learned about displays and ads.  He experimented with new ways of  buying copious merchandise and stacking it up in near the front of the store to sell it in record time.  He was great at it, but more importantly, I think he loved the game of it.  A game with a very practical and rewarding payoff.

I try to ask him about when he and my mom met.  She worked at Eckerds part-time during Christmas at the cosmetic counter one year.  They would go to the donut shop nearby on their breaks to have coffee.  Well, my mom had milk and a giant honeybun.  Who has milk on a date?  Maurice Sanderson. She's got killer bone density.  Anyway, I always want to hear about them meeting and falling in love, but we get halfway to the donut shop before my dad starts saying, "That was a really pretty Eckerds.  It had a red drop ceiling and we took the letters PHARMACY and put them up in new spot and the format really popped and..." And I only want to hear about mom's outfit, Dad and whether you thought she was cute.  "Yeah.  Well, yeah.  Very.  Obviously.  Now those ceilings though..."

The Hot Dog Chronicles: Employees

If you ever worked at Sandy's, you should know that you are remembered often and fondly.

In 41+ years, Mom and Dad employed hundreds  (over a thousand?) people.  And I'm not exaggerating when I say that they are the part of Sandy's we remember and treasure most.  Some families sit around the den and talk about past holidays, vacations or funny family incidents.  We do that for sure, but we also spend a lot of time reminiscing about past employees who became like family to us over.  Mom spoke to them on the phone daily for figures and P&Ls.  Dad worked with them in the stores everyday.  All my life, I've know when you were getting married, having babies, breaking up with girlfriends or boyfriends, applying for law school, entering the US Air Force, and even once, buying a pot bellied pig. I heard about it 

The first group of employees in 1979  helped us open the very first store.  They didn't just serve hot dogs and ice cream.  They helped paint and prep the store.  And they had to be flexible, because the payroll was small.  That first year, if there weren't customers, those kids got sent home and asked to return the next day.  And they did over and over again.  

This group was special, because they got to see and help Sandy's make it or not. So few new restaurants survive past the first year.  Sandy's made it.  Those employees were a key part of that.

I was only eight, so they seemed like grownups.  Really they were in high school.  Somehow the first few found a little hot dog and ice cream shop opening in Village Square Shopping Center in Lexington, South Carolina and asked for jobs  Then they brought their friends.  Eventually there was a crew of sharp, energetic, fun students there.  Everyone was needed and appreciated.  Leslie was only 13, but she was in the thick of it. She can probably tell you more about those kids.  To me, they just seemed to make the place even more fun.

In the early days, the entire family was in the shop as much as possible:  Mom, Dad, and Leslie behind the counter serving; me in the back booth drawing and watching a tiny tv.  Mom sewed aprons for everyone, and made me a small one to match.  I'd make the rounds with a tray of ice water to offer the ice cream customers.  

Dad had been testing the chili recipe on family and neighbors for awhile at that point.  I still remember him with a tiny cast iron skillet in the kitchen at home tweaking the recipe.  The first recipe had a little ketchup in it.  I still remember the taste distinctly.  It's only the tiniest bit different from what it became.  And it only changed because eventually he had to make such mass quantities of it.  Something about the ketchup could scorch if not cooked exactly right I think.  So he made it in a way that could be cooked consistently and deliciously when the managers would be cooking it when there were more stores.  If you know my dad, you know he always expected to have more stores.  Boy, was he was right.

to be continued

The Hot Dog Chronicles: Part 1

 If you ask my dad why they opened Sandy's, he would say, "For us.  For our family, so we could have a good family life."  It might sound funny to say hot dogs equal family life, but it was true.

In 1979, Dad was working with Eckerd Drugs.  By then, he had worked with Eckerds for over 15 years.  What started as a part time high school job for my dad had become a successful career.  He worked full time until he entered the US Air Force for four years.  After finishing his service, he returned to Eckerds where he quickly progressed as an assistant manager, store manager, supervisor of several stores, district manager, and division manager.  In other words, he was crushing it.   However, "crushing it," often required moving:  From Winston Salem, North Carolina to Decatur, Alabama; from Decatur to Chattanooga, Tennessee; and from Chattanooga to Irmo, South Carolina.

We were just settling into life in Irmo.  Our neighborhood, Quail Valley, was new, and full of children our age.  We had only been there a couple of years, but liked out neighbors, and attended good schools.  Then my dad got another promotion. This one was different.

For a year, my dad drove to Asheville every Sunday night, worked there all week, and drove home Friday to be with us for the weekend.  My mom handled everything at home.  It must have been hard.  I say that now, because I'm a mother.  At the time, I don't remember life being much different.  Maybe we went through the Burger King drive thru more often, but maybe not.  We all loved BK Lounge on a normal year.  But eventually, they had to choose whether we could move again with the position.

Perhaps another option was to stay with the company, but plateau professionally, so we could stay rooted in Columbia.  However, if you've met my dad, you know that he isn't into plateauing.  He is always thinking about growing and improving.  He took that initiative, and he and my mom made the risky jump as small business owners.  I wonder what Mom thought when he said, "What if we trade this stable position for selling hot dogs?" 

I'm sure my parents had endless conversations about what it might involve and cost to trade a stable job with pensions and benefits, stock options and promotions for a job where you're completely in charge of your own destiny.  

They agreed as a couple to take the risk.  Of course it was their decision, but I feel like we chose it as a family.  From the beginning, the business belonged to all of us.  He reminded us of that often.  Sometimes people assume it was his business or his and mom's.  Many people think his name is Sandy. (actually his father's nickname and just the short catchy version of Sanderson), because he was in the stores everyday, but it's not how he thinks of it.  We've always been told we all made it happen together.  

Even at eight years old, I felt like an important part of the endeavor our family was starting.  Leslie was 13 and working behind the counter the first week.  Thank goodness she'd had that growth spurt, so she could see over the cash register.  And my parents will tell you with certainty, she was needed desperately.  It was all hands on deck.  We were valued, and we knew it.

My parents opened the first location in Village Square Shopping Center in Lexington, South Carolina with less than $10,000, no investors, and no loans. A big fraction of that cost went towards a huge lighted sign with a logo Dad designed himself.  "They can't come if they can't find us ". He also upfitted that store himself.  The cabinets, the plumbing, the layout...he figured it out as he went.  I've always believed he could do anything, because he was some sort of superhero tradesman, but he says, "You learn what you have to learn when you need to do it for free."

If you've grown up in a family business, you know what I mean.  Especially at the beginning, a family lives and breathes the business.  Such a small percentage of new restaurants survive the first 1-3 years.  Everyone is needed.

I loved every minute of it.

(To be continued)

 

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Celebrities I wrote when I was a small middle-aged-man

Often I joke that I was born a middle-aged man.  No one has ever asked me to prove it, but I can.

There's a funny thing between fathers and daughters.  My sister will back me up on this.  If you get a father with a coaching-pep-talk-Zig Ziglar-vibe who is extra communicative and lets you follow him around, you begin to morph into him at a young age.  Eventually, what you've got is a little 10-year-old moving through the world with 40-year-old sensibilities.  It's the reason I received a Valentine in 4th grade that said, "Pam + Jason = Tru Love 4Ever," and responded, "I like you a lot, but we're too young to be using words like 'love' and 'forever,' especially in this uncertain economy.  Reagan may help, fingers crossed, but it's too soon to know."  Likewise, when a boy tried to hold my hand walking home from school, I told him I just wanted to be friends, because I needed both hands free to gesticulate while I was talking [see aforementioned Zig Ziglar training].

Considering this, it makes sense that in 1981, while my friends were writing fan letters to celebrities like Scott Baio, Shaun Cassidy, and John Stamos, I was writing to Johnny Carson, Steve Martin, and Ronald Reagan.  And although what I was writing weren't exactly NOT fan letters, they weren't normal either. 

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Dear Mr. Carson [keeping it professional]

I see what you're doing, and I like it.  Keep up the good work.  You always do such a good job putting the guests at ease.  You get the best responses when they are comfortable, but you know that.  I've watched your show most of my life [I was 10].  I enjoy Carnac the Magnificent, but if I'm honest, I enjoy your interviews most and the way you get cracked up right along with the guests.

I bet your contract will be renewed forever, but show business can be fickle.  Just keep doing what comes naturally, and you'll be fine whether it's renewed or not.  But I really think it will be.

Sincerely,
Pam Sanderson

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Dear Mr. Martin:

I was born a middle class white child.  Get it?  I have watched "The Jerk" countless times.  It's my favorite movie, and I'm so glad things are progressing so quickly in your career.  I first came to know your work through Saturday Night Live and the "Wild and Crazy Guys" skit.  I love it.  However, [we knew there would be a however], recently I discovered your early standup recordings in small clubs.  I really like the dry, absurd jokes about philosophy.  Your humor is so unique in these. 

I wonder if your agent pressured you to go another direction with your material.  I love ALL of your material obviously, but don't be afraid to do what feels right to YOU.  "Cruel Shoes" is one of my favorite books.  Maybe it doesn't sell out arenas, but I want to encourage you to do what you enjoy, so you don't burn out.  Just my opinion.

Also, I got a banjo from my dad for Christmas this year.  He loves you too, and would like to see you expand in your music career.

Keep strumming,
Pam Sanderson

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Dear President Reagan:

Whew!  Being president must be the hardest job in the world.  We are so thankful that you are willing to try.  I know it's new to you, but hang in there.  Ask a lot of questions, and it'll come to you quickly.  My dad says that it's hard to get any normal, sensible person to serve as president, but we are really optimistic about your term.  You have a very friendly way about you, and even though, it is hard work, I bet you'll do just great if you surround yourself with good people like all good leaders do.  

Be sure to sleep when you can, and make sure Nancy does too.  My mom says being First Lady is probably worse than being President.

Hang in there,
Pam Sanderson

 (I was very concerned with burn out and self-care at a young age).