Over the years Connecting Point's Brian Sullivan has explored different facets
of the American dining experience.
Whether it's the enduring legacy of the roadside diner, the disappearing
family-owned donut shop, or the multi-generational pizza place that
helps keep the community together, each locale offers up an experience that is
just as memorable as the food.
In this next story, Brian visits a hot dog stand in North Adams that was there
long before any of today's diners, donut shops, or pizza places -- and
shows no signs of slowing down.
Eagle Street in North Adams has only one way in, with an entrance that looks like
something we might see in a history book of what people thought the modern
American street would look like heading into the 20th century.
There's also one business on this historic road that appears as though
it's been here since shovels first hit the ground in this section of downtown.
And since 1917, it's managed to outlive nearly every other local business that's
popped up here, from World War I to present day.
So, how did something as simple as a place that sells hot dogs and hamburgers
survive over a century's worth of economic downturns and catastrophes?
Well, the answer is actually quite simple.
We put out our food as cheaply and as efficiently.
It's always fresh, it's inexpensive, and people we have -- we rely on repeat
customers. It's a very simple process.
Twelve seats, a couple of grills, fryolators, lots of dogs, lots of
burgers, steamed buns, and lots of locals coming in.
That's been the recipe for success here.
And even though North Adams has trended more artsy and touristy since the late
1990s, Jack's has always been the town ie spot for generations of working class
folks raising their families here, whether they're working at the hospital,
the bank, hanging sheetrock, pounding nails, or doing whatever they have to do
to maintain a bottom line, this has been their lunch counter.
This is the people you need to take care of.
This is the people we cater to.
It's like the cherry on the sundae to have tourists come in.
But, I know January, February, and March...you need your regular customers
in here. And those regular customers are your contractors, you know, and
everybody you just mentioned
That philosophy of taking care of locals was preached by Jeff's grandfather, the
first generation of this Greek family enterprise.
Now, in its fourth generation with Jeff's son, Joe, in the mix manning the
grill. Apparently, the philosophy works because there are still customers coming
in who've been here for all four generations.
I've been coming here for seventy four years.
Can you imagine that?
I sat in there, I sat there, and my mother sat next to me.
Seventy four years.
And is not just for the townies.
If memory serves, they used to let college creeps like me in here, too.
Back when I was in college out here, none of us had cars, so we almost never
ventured out beyond our one block radius of campus.
But on those rare occasions when we had an extra couple of bucks in our pockets,
we would walk a few more blocks to come down here to Jack's.
It turns out that the couple of bucks I had back in 1995 could still serve me
well now, all these years later.
In that case, I'll have a chili Cheeseburger and a double cheese with
onions, mustard, and relish.
I did have to wonder, though, for a place that does zero advertising and,
aside from the giant hot dog up front, no marketing either, how is it possible
to stay afloat with prices that really don't reflect the current day and age?
Owning the property I'm in, I mean, I don't have a mortgage.
I can keep my prices down.
That's that's another thing my grandfather always said, you know, if
you if you own the property you're in, you don't have to pay rent.
You don't have to pay mortgage. You know, you can keep your prices down.
He was adamant on keeping the prices down as low as you can.
Make your profit, make your...and he always told me, you're never going to
get rich owning Jack's, but if you take care of it, it will take care of you.