The Hot Dog Chronicles: Part 2

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).