Saturday, July 16, 2011

1979 Parade Float

As far as I know, this was the only Franklin's parade float to ever have been hauled through a parade route.

Since we were new to downtown Wilkes-Barre, we participated in the 1979 edition of the Wilkes-Barre Christmas parade.
Paul Kutney as Ben Franklin
The pictures were taken in the shadow of the Pepsi warehouse on Hill St., as the parade participants were being lined up in the proper order.

If you look real close like, you'll notice that Ben Franklin has a Marlboro in his fingers. These days, you'd probably be arrested for daring to light up anywhere near a parade. Or should I say, near the children.

That's Fred DuRoss sporting the reindeer costume. And if you've ever laid eyes on him, you know it was a good decision to cover him from head to toe.

I could name just about every employee in those pics, but I will take a pass on doing as much.


Wednesday, July 6, 2011

A Franklin's link

By the way, I, we, whomever...we are not alone out here in the Internet ether...

A Facebook fan page: I worked in Franklin's Family Restaurant in Hazleton,Pa

The excerpt:  A page for all Alumni to sign , join , and just keep in touch!


Hazleton Water Authority's 25% cutback

I never worked a single shift at the Hazleton Franklin's.

But I did attend a few district meetings in the back dining room.

District meetings were always fun. At district meetings, the District Manager would point out in stark, resounding and grotesque terms how completely the attending General Mangers sucked. And then we'd have some lunch.

While once attending one of these necessary annoyances at the Hazleton unit, I was repeatedly raked over the coals for something or other than escapes me now. All the while, I purposely had my fingertip pressing down on a profit and loss statement illustrating the fact that I had just turned a 26.9% pure profit during the previous month...January. That's "pure" profit.

And if you're a current or former restaurateur, you know that a 26.9% pure profit in any given January is pretty much unattainable. And especially in those days, when operators such as ourselves were not publicly traded and reduced to cutthroat practices to assuage the whims of the investors.

Christmas passed, everybody was tapped-out, and as a GM, your mission was to get through January and February without having too much of a profit-and-loss hole to dig yourself out of for months on end. Still, 26.9% in January, and there I was having to eat more needless bullspit.

And with that, you have yet another insight as to why I bolted from the hospitality industry.

Anyway, having never worked in Hazleton, my memory is very fuzzy on this one.

What I remember is that the Hazleton Water Authority was facing some sort of serious dilemma. And as a result, the Franklin's in Hazleton was forced to reduce it's water usage by 25%, meaning it's dishwasher was put on standby.

And with that, the paper plates and plastic utensils first appeared.

Personally, I can't even imagine how such an unthinkable thing was even remotely possible. And I'm glad that Emil had to live and work through that, and not myself.

Managing a restaurant without an operable dishwasher?

Yeah, you can count me out.


Friday, July 1, 2011

Big Ben hand puppets

Ah, the plastic Big Ben hand puppets.

Throughout my Franklin's career, I probably handed out tens of thousands of these popular trinkets. Perhaps even hundreds of thousands. And all by design.

When you plunk down hard cold cash at a table service eatery, the very last thing you want is some screaming brat seated anywhere near you. And since most parents seem incapable of controlling their kiddies, we sought out to do it for them. Or, at least, to keep those kiddies somewhat amused and quiet.

At the point of being settled into either a booster seat or a highchair, the kids would be treated to kiddie placemats replete with things to color with the 4-pack of crayons we provided. We also provided saltines to nibble on, balloons to blow into and Big Ben hand puppets with which to play with until the food arrived at the table.

And for the most part, screaming brats were a rarity at Franklin's.

Well, mostly.


Hazleton Franklin's pic

This is a picture of the Hazleton Franklin's, taken after Friendly's had the store's interior remodeled.

The date escapes me, simply because I did not work there at the time. Let's say late-80s.

Near as I can recall, all of the folks in that picture were from Franklin's, with the guy third from the left--John Collins--being from Friendly's.

If you knew me after Friendly's had purchased Franklin's, you know that Collins was lucky I never flipped out and assaulted him. Although, there was that one Sunday morning and that one mop handle that whizzed past his face.

I will never forget these hoddog and ice cream experts making with the profitablity routine 24/7.

Collins: Why do you need two hostesses?

Markie: Waiting line in. Waiting line out. You figure it out.

Standing in the rear and to the right was the long-time general manager of the Hazleton Franklin's, Emil Polchin.


Danville--the unnamed bus-boy

I can only remember being in the Danville Franklin's a handful of times.

It's a Friendly restaurant now, and it was located just down the road a ways from the Route 81 exit, and just a ways before you arrive at the intersection of Route 11 where the high school sits.

In this picture we have the unnamed bus-boy from, in all likelihood, the late seventies or early eighties.

I love pictures such as these, the pictures that show the grunts at work. You know, the unheralded grunts that worked for minimum wage and constantly had overbearing assholes such as myself climbing up their backs most of the time.

At my store--Kidder Street, Wilkes-Barre--they got next to no respect. In fact, the short-order cooks called them "dish pigs."


Sunday, June 5, 2011

Henry: Miss him, we will

It's been a sad weekend here at Franklin's Central.

I found out late Friday that Henry Rembish, a then-kid I hired circa 1987 or so had passed away.

Both Henry and his sister Tricia toiled away for both myself and Franklin's during the latter half of the 1980s. And if you've ever been in charge of the hiring, firing and training of young people for jobs that are transitory in nature, both Henry and Tricia were, in my mind, great hires. And in the hospitality industry, there is no greater compliment.

Back in the day, Henry was filled with unpolished spirit, will and energy. And all too frequently, he was uncompromising in his fledgling approach to life. So, needless to say, he was not always thrilled with my constant attempts at teaching him to tone it down just a tad.

Not only was he an employee of mine, he eventually became a friend of mine. And he watched my children grow up. Here locally, both Marque and Ebon marked his passing. And Peace checked in from Knoxville.

What can I say about a kid who placed Star Wars figurines in full view of customers and then proceeded to play with them much like we did with those green army men of ours. He was different than your average bear. Real good people, though.

Reprinted without permission...

Henry T. Rembish Jr., 37, of Dupont, formerly of Wilkes-Barre, passed away Friday, June 3, 2011, at his home.

He was born in Wilkes-Barre on May 10, 1974, and was the son of Henry T. Rembish Sr. and the late Alberta Madden Rembish.

Henry was a member of St. John the Evangelist Church, Pittston. He was a 1991 graduate of Coughlin High School, Luzerne County Community College and Wilkes University. He worked for Pride Mobility for 10 years.

Deeply devoted to family, Henry will always be remembered as a loving husband and father. Henry cherished his bond with his 13-month-old son, Madden. Although just a child, it is likely that Henry's love for Madden made an indelible impression that will remain with Madden all the days of his life.

Henry was an avid collector of Star Wars Yoda treasures. Over the years he amassed an extensive collection that has been deemed No. 1 in the U.S. and No. 2 in the world. Henry's fascination with the wise and gentle Yoda fueled his collector's passion in ways that are both rare and impressive. This collection and the care Henry took in maintaining and preserving it will remain an important part of his legacy.

In addition to his father and son, Henry is survived by his wife of two years, Joyce Smihosky Rembish; his brothers, Leo Febish, Nevada; and Robert Swan and his wife, Kim, Dupont; his sisters, Donna and her husband, David Hontz, Wilkes-Barre; Darlene O'Brien, Wilkes-Barre; Kelly Rembish, Wilkes-Barre; and Trisha Nardone and her husband, Jim, Virginia. Henry is also survived by his stepmother, Jean Rembish, Hanover Township, his father- and mother-in-law, Paul and Andrea Smihosky, Avoca; his brothers-in-law, Michael and Brian Smihosky; his dog, Max; and several nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles and cousins.

A memorial service will be held at 1 p.m. Tuesday at St. John the Baptist Cemetery, 121 Schooley Ave., Exeter. Friends may call from 5 to 8 p.m. Monday at Kiesinger Funeral Services Inc., 255 McAlpine St., Duryea.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made in c/o Madden Rembish.

As Yoda might say...

Miss him, we will.


Sunday, May 29, 2011

Halloween 1979

Oh, yeah.

Do you want to hear a scary Halloween story? Yeah? Read the card and then we'll talk.

As a cook, I worked one night shift on Halloween and one night shift on Halloween only. And that was just about enough for me.

Having come from the high-pressure, high-volume kitchen that powered the legendary Percy A. Brown & Company's 355-seat cafeteria in downtown Wilkes-Barre, I never really understood why the short-order cooks at Franklin's felt so much pressure so much of the time. Once I got myself acclimated to all things Franklin's, I could handle any and all things thrown at me by the ever-circling waitresses.

I know the great majority of them would have stabbed me if they thought they could get away with it. I know my way of warding off potential distractions during the height of battle was to launch profanities at them. In fact, my brother once claimed that Chef Gordon Ramsey of Hell's Kitchen fame closely copied my foul-mouthed act. Yeah, I was that bad.

But the older waitresses, the more veteran waitresses knew enough to just stay off of my radar screen when the sh*t was hitting the fan in tsunami-like waves. Why? Because they knew that while I was waxing non-poetic all nasty like, the food would come out in a timely manner and their tip income would be maximized.

Long story short, after having toiled away in the high pressure sweat shop of a kitchen at Percy Brown's as long as I did, Franklin's didn't seem like that much of a challenge on most days.

Enter...Halloween 1979.

Whoever it was that came up with the free Big Ben promotion for trick-or-treaters was an absolute marketing genius. Their only shortcoming was, they probably never came under sustained heavy fire while wearing an apron.

That night, for hours on end, the three of us that staffed the back kitchen earned the equivalent of short-order Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars and meritorious service awards not yet thunk of.

The best decision I made was to chase the night shift short-orders into opening the front kitchen (breakfast end), a place they had never before attempted to serve a dinner hour from. We needed the Char Rock (char-broiler), that was that, and all of their many complaints uttered while under direct fire were quickly rescinded. By me.

When I, a veteran of some truly unique kitchen wars, tells you that this was the single most insane shift I have ever worked, that should count for something.

By the Halloween of 1980, the Halloween promotion was altered just a tad. Yeah, in 1980, if you came into the store dressed in your costume, you were given the aforementioned free Big Ben coupon. Most notably, a free Big Ben coupon that could only be redeemed at a later date.

I was there, man. I can't say I enjoyed it much, but I was the kitchen for Halloween 1979.


Big Ben cards

Ah, the free Big Ben cards.

Over the years, I probably handed out thousands of these. Perhaps tens of thousands.

I had a stash in my wallet. I had a cache tucked into my briefcase. I had them stuffed up above the visor in my car. And I even took some along when I went out for a jog.

If I had a plug nickel for every time the people I encountered asked me about these in-demand freebies, I'd now own huge tracts of land as far as the untrained eye could see.

Honestly, I could really go for a Big Ben right about now.


#8 opens in 1979

Here we have the #8 ribbon-cutting photo from November 20, 1979.

Forgive me, but, I didn't pay attention to city politics until Wilkes-Barre went and elected an unmitigated disaster personified. Is that Mayor Lisman front and center?

Methinks so.


41 S. Main Street, W-B: #8

Does anybody recognize that skyline?

Remember those canopies in the background?

That's a picture of the rear of 41 S. Main Street in Wilkes-Barre. Or, as we who were once employed by Franklin's called it...Unit #8. These days, it serves as the headquarters of the Luzerne County GOP.

#8 opened on November 20, 1979, back when downtown Wilkes-Barre was still thriving. Even though I was but weeks away from entering the management training program, I was transferred into this store so as to make certain the kitchen dominated by mostly new hires did not collapse under the weight of being downtown Wilkes-Barre's only sit-down, waitress service eatery.

This store never approached the levels of our top grossing stores, but it's lunch day parts were definitely not for the feint of heart.

While I did not make many friends during my brief stay as a visiting kitchen manager in this store, that kitchen never went under while I was on-duty.


Sunday, May 22, 2011

From Markie's scrapbook: 1987?

As I mentioned before, days off as a retrained Friendly's/Franklin's GM usually meant not having a day to yourself for some much-needed rest and relaxation.

Nope. It wasn't enough in the mind of the corporate types to operate a successful and profitable restaurant. No, they wanted us to be married to our stores.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

WVIA pledge drives

Back in the day when the company was fresh out of the blocks, the general managers that came before my wave lived and died by the following credo: Good food, good service and a clean atmosphere.

It was simple. And I like simplicity.

But by the time I became a GM, the corporate mentality from 1,000 miles away had already inserted plenty of mission creep into the job descriptions of what I'll call "my generation" of GMs.

No longer were the GMs expected to work a 40-hour week and provide the big 3: Good food, good service and a clean atmosphere. Once the little company that could was acquired by the big company that thought it could, 50-60 work weeks were the norm. And a day off would normally involve getting caught up on paperwork, phone calls up the poop shoot (pre-Internet & cell phone), PENNDOT meetings, City Council meetings or whatever far-flung thing some self-important corporate suit thought might affect your unit.

Oh, and the higher-ups were real big on community service, volunteerism and all of that feel-good, sounds good, publicity-generating malarkey. So the way I saw things at the time, if we had to do some volunteer work, we might as well  have had some fun while we were at it.

Enter WVIA TV...
L to R: Paul Grillini, MC, Monica Bloom and Virginia Lupton

 This picture was taken in 1988. During the WVIA pledge drives, my Kidder St. employees and I would man the phones on one night. And then we also donated 25 Hambo platters on one of the other nights. Yes, the volunteers always fed the other volunteers. And if you've never had a Hambo sandwich, you have missed out on one of this area's lost treasures

We may not have helped to educate young minds by way of public broadcasting, we may not have helped to financially prop up yet another season of Star Trek or Monty Python, but we did have us some fun.


Midnight table card

Below we have a table card from (I'm guessing) the very late '70s.

I used to love sitting at district meetings listening to general managers whining about this, that and everything. Meanwhile, only a handful of us were forced to staff and manage the midnight shifts that all too often went all Fort Apache on the staff, management and sometimes customers.

Yeah, we never closed, which was code for 'don't fu>k with Markie,' his staff or his customers after the bars close. I'm just saying.


Friday, May 20, 2011

From Markie's Scrapbook: December 27, 1990

Not to be totally Kidder-centric...


#3 (Kidder Street) demolished

#3 (Kidder St) recently made the news. Kind of.

The link: Shuttered W-B restaurant demolished
The excerpt: The closed Mark II Family Restaurant on Kidder Street in Wilkes-Barre was demolished Thursday.

Owner Jack Williams said the former restaurant was beyond repair. The roof was filled with holes and water seeped inside. People vandalized the building and stole its copper, plumbing and wiring, he said.
 "Hopefully, we'll be able to sell the property and someone else will be able to put a new building up or do something with it," he said.

In my mind, they did not demolish Mark II. Rather, they demolished Franklin's. And my alma mater, no less.

April 1, 2011
As the only store of the original 12 not converted to a Friendly's, Kidder Street was closed on December 30, 1990. Actually, it was an Apples before Mark II bought the property from Tom Heck, the long-time owner.

The history: It originally opened as The Carousel Restaurant, date unknown. Sometime during the 1960s, Elby's Big Boy leased it. Then, in the early 1970s came Franklin's #3 to be followed by 9 others. When the Franklin's logo was taken down in 1990 only to be confiscated by me (still have it), it became the short-lived Apples Restaurant. And that's when Mark II bought the property.

Of all the stores I worked in, this one was my home. I was hired as a short-order cook in November 1978 at this store. I became an assistant manager at this store in March of 1980. And after a few tours of duty in other local units, I returned as general manager in early 1987.

While the brick and mortar may have been carted off, the many memories will always remain.



This here electronic oasis is going to be a work in progress for some time. And I'm quite certain it'll take a while for the tens of thousands of former co-workers to happen upon it.

When the Kingston commissary was closed, I raided the filing cabinets that were transferred to our basement at #3, 400 Kidder St. I knew damn well that the history of Franklin's contained within those steel cabinets would mean next to nothing to the Friendlys brass, so I made off with untold pictures, menus, waitress ribbons, table cards, door decals, coupons, Big Ben hand puppets, newsletters, management bulletins and much, much more.

So anyway, going forward, expect to see a lot of those items scanned and uploaded to this site.

And if you've got anything at all to add to the mix, please forward it.