Nell’s Soda Shop Memories
For 41 years, the Redmonds served up downtown burgers
with a side of smiles to theater-goers

By Jason Reagan

The closing of the Appalachian Twin Theatre in downtown Boone last week unleashed a local wave of nostalgia and wistful hopes about the future of the historic landmark.

Tom and Nell Redmond, pictured in 1983, operated the Appalachian Soda Shop from 1950 to 1991 in the building now housing The Tin Can on King Street in downtown Boone. File photo

In addition to the thousands of childhood memories made in front of the movie screen, most local folks also remember the theater’s next-door neighbor, the Appalachian Soda Shop, as a place where they could get a square meal for under a buck as well as a sense of community — on the house.

The Redmond family opened the shop in 1950 in the building now occupied by The Tin Can on King Street.

Among the cozy booths and clean lunch counter, Nell Redmond watched the fortunes of the shop and the theater rise and fall over the past 57 years and at 79 can still serve up a fresh batch of hometown memories every bit as tantalizing as a hot order of burgers and fries.

Nell was married to the shop’s owner, Tom, in 1958 and the couple served up thousands of meals from the narrow shop until 1991 when Tom’s battle with Alzheimer’s forced the couple into retirement. Tom died in 1995. Their story begins on a tobacco and chicken farm near Mountain City, Tenn.

Fryer-crossed lovers
It’s no joke that, if a chicken hadn’t tried to cross the road, the Redmonds might never have gotten to the other side of matrimony.

While on furlough from the Army in 1945, Tom accidentally steered his car into one of Nell’s father’s fryers near the family farm in Neva, Tenn. When the dust and feathers settled, the sight of such a handsome soldier struck Nell’s heart, as well.

“Lord, I thought that was the best looking man I ever looked at in my life,” she said in a recent interview.

Later, a job cleaning for Tom’s sister brought Nell to Boone. When the soda shop came up for sale, however, Nell found herself working with her “best looking man.”

When Tom, an Iredell County native, heard about the shop, he decided to take the plunge into small business ownership after looking around at cross-country options.

“He drove to California to try and find whatever he would like to do,” Nell said.

“He didn’t find anything so he came back to Boone.”

The shop opened in 1950 and Tom recognized Nell’s potential as a key employee. Earlier, she had served food at a restaurant known as the Bus Station in Mountain City and now she had the chance to help start a new hometown tradition and work with the man who would soon become her husband eight years later.

Enter the Soda Shop
Without much in the way of fanfare, the shop soon turned successful.

“We cleaned it up and opened it up and started serving sandwiches,” Nell said.

In addition to serving as a before-and-after dining choice for theater buffs, the shop became part of a weekly social tradition for people living outside Boone. Every Saturday, farmers and rural workers came from the hills for a day on the town.

“We had people from the country. That’s who Tom catered to,” Nell said. “That’s why he wouldn’t go up on his prices. Because he said they were hard-working people.”

“They could come in our place, have a Coca-Cola for 5 cents and a hot dog for 15 and a hamburger for 25. Then they could go to the movies and have a ticket for 10 cents and a box of popcorn for 10 cents.”

When the shop first opened, Nell worked the grill as cook while Tom waited on tables. Tom became known for his trademark paper cook’s hat bearing the logo of Waldensian Bakeries. As the years went by, the couple switched jobs and the shop grew in popularity, becoming known for its low prices, locally purchased beef, friendly waitress and simple menu — burgers, hot dogs, BLTs and chili. In fact, the shop’s famous chili recipe passed away when Tom did in 1995 — he never told anyone.

“Nobody knows it,” Nell’s son, Tom Jr., said. “There’s something about that chili that was totally different from anything else.”

Since Tom’s griddle creations were known as bargains, running a tab was forbidden. He always told would-be burger debtors, “I don’t do credit.” But he would never let a customer in need go without a meal. Nell recalls his policy: “‘If you’re hungry, I’ll give you a sandwich,’ That was it.”

When the shop changed owners in 1991, hamburgers cost 85 cents (“all the way”), cheeseburgers, 95 cents; and hot dogs, 75.

Neighborly Friends
Due to the hectic pace of running a downtown eatery, Nell said she didn’t get a chance to see any full-length movies at the Appalachian but she did sneak away for a short film.

“Every Saturday morning, if we weren’t too busy, I would go and see the Little Rascals,” she said.

What Nell may have lacked in movie-screen time, she more than made up for in the friendships she forged with the App’s staff. Former theater manager J Beach and employees (later managers) C.J. and Polly Hayes visited the Soda Shop nearly every day for coffee. The running catchphrase for about 40 years among the group was “Well, who pays this morning?” Nell said the two businesses formed a bond akin to that of brothers and sisters. She still sees the Hayes on a regular basis.

The Things You See in a Soda Shop
The everyday operation of a small soda shop can cook up a feast of tales over the years. Years before Wendy’s made “Where’s the Beef?” famous, Nell recalls the time regular customer J.B. Greene returned a burger to her without any meat. In her rush to prepare a mess of burgers for the hungry lunch crowd, she had overlooked on patty and said she never made the same mistake again.

Nell still laughs when she thinks about the false teeth.

One day, a man walked up to her and asked, “Did you find my teeth?” The customer had taken out his false teeth at some point in his meal and wrapped them in a napkin. After he left, presumably toothless, Nell cleaned off the table and promptly threw away the choppers.

“We had to go through the garbage to find them and I laughed until I couldn’t laugh anymore,” she said.

From Cradle to Griddle
Now a Boone police officer, Tom Jr. (to avoid confusion, he will be called by his mother’s nickname of “Tommy” from here) had a high public profile from the day he was born, thanks to the soda shop’s customers.

“I had a bassinet down there and I put him in it and set it in the display window,” Nell said.

“All these people would come up to the window and peck on it and play with him.”

Tommy grew up with downtown Boone as his playground. While mom and dad ran the shop, he served a few meals to help out, played in the front yard of the Daniel Boone Hotel across the street, and — his favorite memory — roamed every square inch of the next-door Appalachian Twin.

“Sometimes I would watch a movie. Sometimes I would go up to the projector room — I learned to thread it,” he said.

Over time, the theater manager came to see Tommy as a volunteer employee. He helped clean the theater and would perform other odd jobs. “I did it for fun,” he said. Between movies, he and his friends would often sneak behind the screen and play on the stage that remained from the days when live shows were part of the theater’s regular schedule. “It was pretty dusty and spooky by then,” he said.

Hope for the Future
Last week, when she read about the theater’s demise in the Watauga Democrat, Nell said the news saddened and shocked her. She remains optimistic about the future of the landmark, hoping Appalachian State University might step in.

“It would be nice if the college would put their theater over there,” she said.

“Whatever it would take to keep the theater aspect going,” Tommy added.

Looking back on her 41 years of serving tons of beef, watching teenage romance bloom and wither in the shop’s booths and even once witnessing a very drunken man “crawl down King Street” after paying for a hamburger, Nell has no problem choosing her favorite part of the job.

“I loved the people and it was just special. I never had a cross word with anybody.”