This is the carry-out box of fried chicken we DIDN'T eat - four big pieces! *******************************************************************************
Last night Jimmy said, "I'm going to take you to the Colonnade for supper tonight. It's been years since I've been there, and back in the early sixties we used to eat there all the time." That was when he lived at 430 Lindbergh, along with three of his fraternity brothers in a two bedroom apartment. Each small bedroom had two single beds.
His friend John shared a room with P.B. and P.B. snored so badly John couldn't get any sleep, so he took to pulling P.B. out of the bed by his feet and dragging him out of the apartment and locking the door. Jimmy says it got to be a nightly ritual: P.B.'s loud snoring, then a big thud when John yanked him out of the bed, the front door slamming, then...quiet, and everybody went to sleep.
Anyway, this is a restaurant where you order a meat and two sides - home cooking. No credit cards are accepted, and you pay up front where there is an ATM machine for those who didn't bring cash.
Jimmy and I ordered fried chicken - it was GOOD- and we couldn't believe how much they gave us: four large pieces EACH. We'll be eating out of that carry-out box for the next two days.
While we were eating , Jimmy told me the story of an incident that happened in late 1965. A young woman, Mary Shotwell Little, a C&S bank employee, disappeared while shopping at Lenox Mall. It was a highly publicized story, but she was never found.
One of Jimmy's roommates had been dating this woman, and they broke up and she soon after married another man. She had only been married for six weeks when she, as they say now, went missing. The ex-boyfriend was viewed as "a person of interest."
Jimmy was only twenty-one or two years old at the time, and had just started a new job when an Atlanta homicide detective came to his workplace to interview him. It just about scared Jimmy to death. " Mr. Dewar, where were you on the night of October x of last week?" "At the Colonnade, having dinner with some friends, " Jimmy stuttered.
The detective wanted to know who was there, what they had to eat, what time they left, where they went afterward. Jimmy confirmed that he and his friend had gone to the restaurant together, had eaten supper, then they all had gone back to their apartment together. So the Colonnade was Jimmy's friend's alibi. And the Mary Shotwell Little case remains one of Atlanta's big unsolved mysteries.
His friend John shared a room with P.B. and P.B. snored so badly John couldn't get any sleep, so he took to pulling P.B. out of the bed by his feet and dragging him out of the apartment and locking the door. Jimmy says it got to be a nightly ritual: P.B.'s loud snoring, then a big thud when John yanked him out of the bed, the front door slamming, then...quiet, and everybody went to sleep.
Anyway, this is a restaurant where you order a meat and two sides - home cooking. No credit cards are accepted, and you pay up front where there is an ATM machine for those who didn't bring cash.
Jimmy and I ordered fried chicken - it was GOOD- and we couldn't believe how much they gave us: four large pieces EACH. We'll be eating out of that carry-out box for the next two days.
While we were eating , Jimmy told me the story of an incident that happened in late 1965. A young woman, Mary Shotwell Little, a C&S bank employee, disappeared while shopping at Lenox Mall. It was a highly publicized story, but she was never found.
One of Jimmy's roommates had been dating this woman, and they broke up and she soon after married another man. She had only been married for six weeks when she, as they say now, went missing. The ex-boyfriend was viewed as "a person of interest."
Jimmy was only twenty-one or two years old at the time, and had just started a new job when an Atlanta homicide detective came to his workplace to interview him. It just about scared Jimmy to death. " Mr. Dewar, where were you on the night of October x of last week?" "At the Colonnade, having dinner with some friends, " Jimmy stuttered.
The detective wanted to know who was there, what they had to eat, what time they left, where they went afterward. Jimmy confirmed that he and his friend had gone to the restaurant together, had eaten supper, then they all had gone back to their apartment together. So the Colonnade was Jimmy's friend's alibi. And the Mary Shotwell Little case remains one of Atlanta's big unsolved mysteries.
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