Popcorn Selling Forbidden at the Middleborough Rotary, 1948

In 1948, the Middleborough Rotary was set upon by out of town pop corn vendors intent upon selling their snack to passing motorists.  Ultimately, opposition by local merchants to what they saw as unregulated competition resulted in the matter coming before the Board of Selectmen as recorded in the following item carried in the Brockton Enterprise on May 18.

The area about the traffic circle at Middleboro seems to be an attractive place for pop corn merchants.  They float in there by motor and start doing business.  Other local merchants along the line object.  And that brings the matter to the attention of the selectmen.  The latest caller appeared at the selectmen's meeting last night.  He was Romeo Duverger, 214 Centre street, Brockton.  He had been dispensing pop corn near the traffic circle Sunday when Middleboro police intervened.  He informed the board that while he had a State license, he was driven away from there by the police.  He claimed to have a permit from the owner of the land to use it.

It was stated that the State license covered peddling and the contention was that it did not cover a location, such as the traffic circle.  He said he was willing to take out any other kind of license which might be required.

Chairman [Manuel J.] Silvia informed him that two others had met difficulty in a similar enterprise at the same location earlier in the year.  Action was held up, pending more complete information on the regulations of such business.  The unanswered question was why this particular location in Middleboro seemed to be so popular to pop corn merchants.

Photograph by Steve Snodgrass, reprinted under a Creative Commons license.

The Rotary Mill, 1935

The Rotary Mill, Middleborough Rotary, Middleborough, MA, advertising

card, 1935.

Built about 1932 and named for the newly-constructed rotary upon which it was situated, the Rotary Mill with its distinctive windmill quickly became a landmark for passing motorists, as well as a convenient stopping place for lunch.  This card produced in early 1935 clearly sought to appeal to motorists, advertising the restaurant's convenient location on routes 28, 18 and 101 (the predecessor of present-day route 44).  Later that same year, the establishment was acquired by Howard Johnson's who continued to operate it under the Rotary Mill name.

Howard Johnson's Rotary Mill, 1935-44

One of the great challenges for travelers during the Depression era was locating a clean, family style restaurant, with ample parking, quality food and low prices. Into this void stepped Howard Deering Johnson of Quincy who ultimately operated a nation-wide chain of restaurants geared towards the family traveler, one of which was located between 1935 and 1944 on Route 28 near the Middleborough Rotary location of the present Dunkin’ Donuts.

Johnson received his start as the proprietor of an ice cream stand in Quincy, eventually expanding into the restaurant business. By the time that it had opened a restaurant in Middleborough, in September, 1935, the Howard Johnson chain operated over 25 restaurants in New England. Eventually, it would grow to be the world’s largest restaurant chain, built upon a standardized menu, reliable offerings, clean facilities, friendly service and generous servings of rich ice cream. Of the often volatile Johnson it would later be said, “There’s many a king on a gilded throne, but there’s only one king on an ice cream cone.”

In 1935, Howard Johnson’s acquired the Rotary Mill restaurant in Middleborough previously operated by George Manning of Mattapoisett. The Rotary Mill, which had been built shortly after the 1932 construction of the Middleborough Rotary and operated for just a few years, was noted for the distinctiveness of its Colonial Revival architecture, particularly the mock three-story windmill which served as the restaurant’s entrance and stood as a landmark on the route to the Cape for summer travelers.

Following its acquisition by Howard Johnson’s, little change was made to the exterior appearance of the Rotary Mill, whose architectural style was very much compatible with that of the other early Colonial Revival style Howard Johnson restaurants designed by Joseph G. Morgan. One notable change, however, was the addition of the distinctive orange baked-enamel roof, an easily recognized beacon for travelers in search of convenient dining. Howard Johnson’s early slogan was a “Landmark for Hungry Americans”, and the ubiquitous orange roof helped them in their search.

The opening of Howard Johnson’s new Middleborough location on September 22, 1935, was advertised with discounted ice cream and “our delicious frankforts roasted in pure creamery butter.” These two favorites, along with others such as clam strips and macaroni and cheese would become Howard Johnson staples, so much so that they were later marketed in supermarkets.

Like the other restaurants in the Howard Johnson chain, the Rotary Mill served Johnson’s exceedingly rich ice cream (19 per cent butter fat content), with generous servings from distinctively-shaped scoops. Ice cream was made in 28 flavors, and woe to those who opted for lowly vanilla. "We spend our lives developing 28 flavors, and they still come in and say 'Make mine vanilla!'” Johnson once fulminated.

Like ice cream, the simple hot dog was yet another roadside staple which Howard Johnson early elevated to a specialty. In Howard Johnson restaurants, hot dogs were called “frankforts” and were grilled in butter, diagonal scores being cut along the hot dog in order for them to soak in more of the butter in which they were grilled, and served in grilled rectangular buns. Clam strips became another recognizably Howard Johnson’s meal, and were harvested from beds owned by the company off Ipswich.

While undoubtedly many Middleborough residents dined at the Rotary Mill, Howard Johnson’s restaurants were geared to the traveler. Diners stopping at a Howard Johnson’s clearly knew what to expect in contrast to local restaurants and roadside stands, the quality and cleanliness of which could vary greatly.

Eventually, World War II with its gasoline, tire, rubber and food rationing crippled the roadside restaurant business. In 1944, Howard Johnson’s converted its Rotary Mill restaurant to a Red Coach Grill, then a new dining concept embraced by the company.

Illustrations:
Howard Johnson's Rotary Mill, Middleborough, MA, hand-colored photograph, c. 1935
The view depicts the Rotary Mill as seen from across Route 28 shortly after its acquisition by Howard Johnson's. The most noticeable alteration undertaken at the time was the application of the chain's distinctive orange enamel roof, an easily recognizable feature for travellers in search of clean, inexpensive and reliable family-friendly dining options.

Howard Johnson's, Middleborough Rotary, Middleborough, MA, photograph, 1940s
This view was utilized to advertise the local Howard Johnson's which was replaced in 1944 by the Red Coach Grill, a new dining concept promoted by Howard Johnson's in an effort to attract a more local clientele.

Lobster is Trouble Cause

From the summer of 1948 comes this tale of a particularly obtuse customer at a local lobster market. Though the establishment in question is not named, it is likely that it was Ripley's which was located just north of the Middleborough Rotary on the site now occupied by Persy's Place restaurant. The market was operated in the late 1940s and early 1950s as a purveyor of fresh seafood including lobsters, clams and scallops.

Summer time and "elbow bending" can bring on strange situations. This was revealed recently when Middleboro police were summoned to a lobster sales place on route 28. Outside was an irate customer, who was noisy about being taken advantage of. The boss of the place didn't agree with him, and he was not so quiet either. According to the boss, the outside man was advising folks who stopped for the lobsters to keep on going or they might be imposed on. That did not help business so the boss called the police.

Then an effort was made to get at the bottom of the trouble. It seems the "elbow-bender" had bought a live lobster. It weighed one and a quarter pounds, and its selling price was determined. No money was passed. Then the "elbow-bender" asked to have it cooked for him. This was done, and as the purchase was wrapped, he asked that it be weighed again. It was.

This time the scales showed an even pound. The seller wanted to collect for the pound and a quarter. The buyer insisted he was paying for only a pound. The seller explained the shrinkage came from cooking. The buyer would not accept such a story, and there the trouble started.

Learning the details, the policeman quickly adjusted the matter, by telling the prospective buyer he didn't have to take it, if it didn't please him, so following advice, the buyer hastened away, evidently satisfied he had made his point, while the seller was well pleased to have the room rather than his company.

Illustrations:

Ripley's Lobster Market, Bedford Street, photograph, late 1940s.

"Lobster Claw", Simon Goldenberg, photographer. 2008. Republished under a Creative Commons license. Some rights reserved.

Source:

Brockton Enterprise, "Lobster is Trouble Cause", July 30, 1948.