Friday, Jul. 18, 2008

No more think tank at the Krystal

Margaret Kollmar has never eaten a Krystal hamburger.

Those tiny steamed burgers on a square bun, with a pickle, dab of mustard and smattering of onions have never crossed her lips. She has never had to rush out for a Krystal fix in the middle of the afternoon.

But she has dined at the Krystal on Vineville Avenue almost every morning for the past 30 years.

She has had enough cups of Krystal coffee to float an aircraft carrier and enough biscuits to sink a battleship.

Margaret has gathered with folks such as Roy Shults and dozens of others over the years. They have discussed hot-button topics over scrambled eggs, chewed on politics and religion over grits and devoured the baseball box scores in the sports section of the morning newspaper. A few years back, they debated the O.J. Simpson trial between sips of orange juice.

There is no official name for this mid-morning assortment of retired teachers, bankers, accountants, veterans and people from other walks of life. At times, they have referred to themselves as "The Krystal Kritters." Other times, the congregation has answered to the "Krystal Think Tank."

Roy is a volunteer tour bus guide during the annual Cherry Blossom Festival. He always points out the Vineville Krystal to tourists with the same reverence as the Hay House or Douglass Theatre.

"Over there on the left," he will tell the sightseers, "is where all the problems of the world are solved."

Today will be a sad day for those deep thinkers behind the Krystal ball. The restaurant at 2983 Vineville Ave., which opened in April 1969, is scheduled to close Sunday.

When Margaret found out the news, she called her daughter Carlene Massey.

"I'm in mourning," she told Carlene. "Where will I go every morning?"

Margaret is 86 years old and lives at St. Paul Apartments. She drives herself to the Krystal every morning to hold court with the others.

When she moved to Macon from Long Island, N.Y., in 1978, she lived at Brookwood Apartments off Vista Circle. Seeking to make friends in a new community, she began walking the half-mile up the hill to the Krystal with a postman-like faithfulness.

"Every morning," she said. "Rain, sleet or snow."

Another woman soon joined her at the table. Then another. Then a man sat down.

"They all became my friends," she said. Soon, they found themselves merged with another coffee club that had been meeting regularly since the early 1970s.

Margaret grew up with White Castle hamburgers but has never tried a Krystal. She prefers to stick to the biscuits and an occasional dessert.

There have been times when Roy has had all three of his daily meals served from across the stainless-steel counter of the oldest fast-food hamburger chain (1932) in the South. With his photography studio just a couple of chili pups away, it made culinary sense.

"I have no idea how many Krystals I've eaten over the years," he said. "But I've probably had enough cups of coffee to drown a hundred times."

In 1959, Roy worked at the Krystal on Cherry Street for about a week when he was in between jobs. The Vineville restaurant has become a tradition for himself and other Maconites.

Several in the group have been known to get up and sing, even drawing applause from others in the dining room. Politicians have dropped by to do some "soft" campaigning over French fries.

"I'm depressed about this," said Roy.

Said Margaret: "It's like a death in the family."