To lots of people in Columbus, he qualifies as extended family. He’s visited babies in the hospital, provided food for brides on their big day, and has been a listening ear for thousands of hungry and talkative mouths (including mine). I’ll bet he knows a lot about a lot of folks…but he’s a good man and a smart man. We talked about the South and how everyone’s related and how you should never say anything bad about anyone. He put his pointer finger over closed lips, suggesting that he’s not one to gossip. I like that. He’s served presidents, supermodels, editors, and more…but he’s not phased by them (at least not at 83). He’s as interested in the sweaty kid with mismatched socks as he is the olympian who once stopped by for a hotdog and a handshake.
He’s Lieutenant Charles Stevens. He’s never been in the military, but he’s patriotic…or at least his aunt was. She gave him the name Lieutenant the day after Veteran’s Day, when he was born in Bullock County, Alabama. I asked why she gave him that name and he said, “I think she got carried away with the celebration.” At first, I called his bluff. Then he pulled out his driver’s license. Sure enough…Lieutenant C. Stevens. That made me like him even more.
He was a year old when he moved to Columbus. Thirteen years after that, he found himself helping the cook behind the counter at Dinglewood Pharmacy. It was June of 1946. World War II was still fresh on everyone’s mind and meat was being rationed. Fourteen year old Lieutenant would cut up “half a weenie,” mix it with beans and sauce, generously pour it over a flattened bun, add a few onions and pickles and then serve the steaming hot concoction to Lieutenants with other names, and everyone else. This was the start of the scramble-dog. At least that’s what some folks say. Down Old Cusetta Road, at Firm Roberts Cafe, another guy was chopping franks and serving them up by the same name. The scramble-dog war continues today…although my cooking partner didn’t seem too concerned about who started what.
Lieutenant told me there was a lot going on in Columbus in those days- the war was over and Auburn-Georgia games were played in town (until a bigger stadium was suggested and the games moved to Auburn). He figured he’d work at Dinglewood until he graduated high-school, but his boss didn’t want him to leave. After the boss passed away, Lieutenant took over (he told me he'd been doing it all anyway, so it made sense). 70 years later, he still opens and closes the place…but usually just on Saturdays.
Everyone I know loves a messy scramble-dog. Little girls love them because they are hot pink. Guys love them because they’re…I actually don’t know why guys love them. I guess even with its pinkness, the scramble-dog is classic man-food. Other people love them because of tradition. Sometimes, it’s not as much about the food as it is the experience. For me, eating at Dinglewood is like getting a tiny taste of a different time. The friendly service, the classic music, the swivel stools and fountain cokes have the ability to convince you, for at least a few minutes, that Elvis might be outside taking a smoke-break.
I feel very lucky that I got to spend some time with Lieutenant. I think it’s pretty cool that I got to learn how to construct a scramble-dog by the man who (might have) invented it. I never thought, as a girl from the other side of the river, that I’d ever eat oyster crackers on my chili-dog, but I’m sure glad I figured it out sooner than later.
If you haven't experienced the delicious mess that is the scramble-dog, add the River City to your next trip and stop by the Pharmacy. (Convenient, isn't it? Chow down, grab some tums, and get a real cherry coke for the road all in one stop!) Fun Fact: AFLAC is headquartered just across the street.
Thank you Lieutenant for all of your great stories, scramble-dog making, and fun memories!
I loved every minute and every bite...
This post made me hungry!
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