Maybe it is a sign of the times, but looking backward at what we know seems to be more fulfilling than looking forward to what we can only guess at. So a random thought about a long-gone restaurant on what some people call Throw Back Thursday set off a cascade of memories for a lot of folks.

When I was 6 or 7, my family moved from one Rogers Park apartment to another, about three blocks away. On moving day, my older sister and I were sent on a mission to a diner around the corner to buy a hamburger lunch for the family and the moving men from 7 Brothers Moving And Storage Company. Back in 1962, there was nothing unusual about an 11-year-old and 6-year-old handling that chore.

The diner was a small greasy spoon, which in my memory was named the Huddle House. The place wasn’t much; a counter with 4 stools and a cash register in the front, kitchen in the back. Basic, but the burgers were delicious. Lunch went well. Sadly, within a year or so the diner was demolished (lost their lease? closed by the Department of Health?) and an apartment building replaced it.

During a moment of weakness, I posted my story on the Facebook Rogers Park page, unaware that I was opening the flood gates as each reader piled on. “No such place as Huddle House.” “I think it was Toddle House.” “No way, it was Townhouse.” “No way was it Townhouse.” “I’ve got the phone book–it didn’t exist.” “They had a train delivering the food.” “Trains were at the Choo Choo in Des Plaines.” “I lived in that apartment building.” “I lived across the street.” “My third cousin was the janitor there.”

You get the idea. Everyone wants the chance to reminisce, we are all just waiting for the cue. When the “votes” were in, Huddle House had defeated Toddle House as the likely name, and even the deniers were believing that this wasn’t just a false memory of mine. I wish I could convince people so easily about other things, like vaccines, and politics, and White Sox.

I got one additional surprise from my posting. One reader recognized my name and the Rogers Park location and told me she had been my sister’s friend a million years ago back in the hood. I remembered her name (at least the maiden name) and even an image of her face. She was aware my sister had passed away; it was nice to be able to fill her in about my sister and her family.

Maybe next Thursday I will throw out another memory, from another time and place. And anticipate the days when looking forward will once more be as much of life as looking back.

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