There is on-going frenetic activity. Young folks old folks milling around the door.
Perspiring owner herding customers in and out
Friends and Neighbors howdy-doing
Babies crying while being placed in high chairs.
Tables being rearranged Chairs being shuffled from table to table.
Waiters hurrying with coffee, juice, and milk and countless coffee refills.
Background laughter droning chatter blend together.
Huge plates of pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, and home fries somehow find their way to correct locations.
Blue jeans, shorts, and Sunday church clothing mix amicably in the close quarters which are jammed with tables and booths.
Baseball caps featuring various team logos remain on heads during the meal since there are no hangers. Sneakers are the shoe fashion statement of the day.
Here this Sunday morning, a small town Diner, once a major part of the fabric of America, remains alive and well.