The city is ‘taking it to the streets’

I ran over a million memories. Dozens of them mine. Thousands belonging to others.

It was right there in front of Northgate Plaza, North Davis Drive in Warner Robins. The city is tearing down what appears to be most of the buildings in its revitalization efforts. What looks to be a huge pulverizer is reducing the concrete bricks to pebbles and ash. 

Dump trucks are carrying it all off. Some of the ash is leaking out onto the streets. That’s what I ran over and a part of me wanted to scream out: “Hey be careful! Those are precious memories you’re spilling out there!”

Memories, Like Don’s Pizza. 

Don’s Pizza. It was the early ‘70s. I was 16. Don’s Pizza was my first job. Man, did Don know how to make pizza! You’ve seen commercials where they pull up a slice, and the cheese just hangs like a spiderweb? Don’s Pizza did that, but that’s a piece of cake – piece of pizza – these days. Anybody can do that. 

That wasn’t what made Don’s Pizza special. It was the taste! I’ve had a ton of pizzas in my lifetime and I’m telling you I have never tasted a better pizza. And oh, by the way, my expertise didn’t come to the table. Not sitting and dining in, that is. I was a busboy. I cleaned the tables. Gave the tips to the waitresses, and between you and me, now and then somebody would leave a slice or two on their plate. If nobody was looking, and I was hungry, I ate Don’s Pizza.

That’s how I know how good it was, but don’t take my word for it. Find a Warner Robins High School student from that time. Find a Northside High School student from that day. They’ll tell you. Don’s Pizza would be quiet, would be calm. Then, just like clockwork, you could say, “Well, the (football) game should be over right about now.” 

Sure enough, here they would come. The place would be packed. What was amazing was most of the time you couldn’t tell if they had won or lost. They were always in good spirits just to be able to eat Don’s Pizza and fellowship in the wonderful, candlelit atmosphere. There were no borderlines at Don’s Pizza.

I don’t remember why Don and his wife – they made for a beautiful team – closed his place – to go back home rings a bell – but he left 16-inch, smothered in cheese and pepperoni and olives and peppers and … memories all over the city. 

Memories. Like Plaza Theater. 

Ah, yes, the day when you waited in line to buy a ticket for you and your girlfriend. Then you waited in line at the snack bar to get her and you a Coke and popcorn and snowcaps or chocolate-covered raisins (my wife’s – girlfriend at the time – favorite). Then you got to gingerly, carefully, methodically, put your arm around her at some point. Heaven.

Movies. “The Way We Were.” (Me to myself: “Will this thing ever end? Well, maybe I’ll get a kiss out of the deal.”) 

“American Graffiti.” (Me: “This is too cool!” To her: “I’m glad they didn’t show more of the blonde in the white Thunderbird.” To myself: “I wish they would have showed more of the blonde in the white Thunderbird.”  

“The Sting.” (Me, to her: “Phffft. I saw that ending coming.” Her: “Yeah, right.” Pretty much the same response to a thousand things I bragged about knowing that she knew better and called me out.)

“Enter the Dragon.” I saw this with my bros – every kung fu movie that came out, actually – and we kung fu’d everywhere we went.

Memories.

The city may change, but the ashes – memories – will always be there to run over … in our mind.