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.
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..."