The Glass Kitchen

One of my favorite memories of my Dad was when I was about six or seven. Our family had traveled to St. Louis due to my grandmother's sudden serious illness. Since it was during the school year, after a couple of days and being assured my grandmother would recover, we left my mother and younger brother behind, and he and I drove back to Mississippi that weekend.  This was probably the longest amount of time I'd ever spent alone with my Dad to date, and it was unusual to have his full, undivided attention.  I got to sit in the front seat, of course, and I remember stopping at a Stuckey's and his buying me a little packet of novelty toys--the only one I now recall being a little plastic dog that smoked a tiny fake cigarette.  Anyway, we got into Vicksburg around 6:30 or 7:00 that evening, and as this was before we even had a McDonalds, I believe, the only place open was The Glass Kitchen on South Street downtown.  We went in, sat down, and he ordered me a grilled cheese sandwich, telling me he was sure I'd like it (he was right--even today it's probably still my favorite thing in the world to eat, although I don't indulge very often).  I got to pick my drink, so I had a 10 oz bottle of 7-Up. I remember it being the coldest, sweetest drink I'd ever had. 

This first "date" with my Dad remains one of my most favorite memories, not just of him, but of all my memories.  Not only because of his undivided attention for me, but because it was the first time I really paid close attention to HIM.  In fact, I remember feeling a little bit nervous and giddy sitting there in the restaurant, not quite sure what to say or do--like it really was a "first date" with someone you'd just met.  I don't remember what we talked about specifically, but I knew that I didn't want to ever leave.  

It's the only time we ever ate at that restaurant, even though it remained open well into my high school years. I remember returning there myself only once when I had a little part-time job at the bank across the street my senior year.  It still looked the same, with its open kitchen of glass and stainless steel and vinyl booths.  I ordered a grilled cheese and a 7-up, though. 

The photo attached is of Vicksburg artist Daniel Boone's now-famous print of the place--the only image of The Glass Kitchen I could locate anywhere on the internet. I actually also happen to own a copy of the print, which I purchased at the Attic Gallery years ago as a Father's Day gift for my Dad.  He immediately recalled our outing there, and I think was touched by the fact that it had been such a special memory for me, too.  It now sits in my own "retro-style" kitchen...a style choice which I am sure was influenced by my recollection of that place.  

I can't believe it's now been seven years since my Dad passed away. So tomorrow, in honor of that, I think I'm going to treat myself to a grilled cheese sandwich and see if I can't locate a bottle of 7-up to toast my Dad with.