Kool King Drive In

As our country prepared to celebrate its bicentennial in 1976, my working career began. Two blocks from my house, sitting on the side of Highway 90 was the Kool King Drive In. This fast food dive provided made-from-scratch food, ice cream, shakes, malts, beer and all the typical items you would expect from a locally owned, delicious, nothing fancy establishment in the 1970’s.

Two men who were members of our church decided to take a go at running the Kool King. I can’t remember if it had closed and they reopened it or just took over from the Lagrange family. Either way, Ken Cadwallader and Jim Kleles, former divers who were embarking on a second career, made the decision to get into the food business.

As a kid in junior high with time on his hands, I took up Mr. Ken’s offer to work part-time hours after school and on Saturday’s. Incredibly excited and fortunate to be paid $2.65 an hour, I probably would have still taken the job for free burgers and ice cream. My first job assignment was to clean the restrooms which were located behind the building. Each barely had enough room for a toilet and a sink. Cleaning them didn’t take long so I was assigned the task of cleaning up around the place, which usually took longer because I had to pick up all the beer bottles and cans and other trash thrown from the windows of passing automobiles traveling on Hwy. 90. I guess back then, not many drivers in Louisiana were paying attention to the commercial with the American Indian who would shed a tear after watching everyone trash his native land. Another man’s trash was Steve’s opportunity to make his first million at the Kool King.

I recall the conversation with my Dad prior to starting my first job. He said, the way you work is not based on what you are being paid. Your work is based on your dedication to the job, giving 100% every minute you are on the clock.” He also added, “I’ve never met a rich Achord (monetarily) and don’t expect to meet one in my lifetime so whatever job you take, make sure you enjoy it.” My dad was telling me I had a lifetime of work ahead because there wasn’t any inheritance money coming my way so when it came to work, make the most of every job and enjoy what you do. I have carried that mantra to every job I have had in my 40 years earning a paycheck.

From janitorial duties I progressed to making the hamburgers, cutting potatoes for French fries, battering onions to make onion rings. Yes kids, back then we made those things from scratch. Nothing frozen. By the way, I did wash my hands between toilet cleaning and playing with food. I learned a lot, especially from the older, seasoned people who had been working a long time. One of the nicest people to work there was Dalton Hilliard’s mom. If you are from Patterson you know who Dalton is but if you aren’t, he was one of the most gifted athletes ever to come out of Louisiana. Following a stellar career at Patterson High School, Dalton went on to be a great football player at Louisiana State University and for the New Orleans Saints. Ms. Mabel Hilliard (hoping my memory is right and that was her first name) showed me how to cook a hamburger, do all the prep work, fry food, clean and work in a busy kitchen. Not only was Ms. Hilliard a hard worker, she had such a sweet disposition that I wanted to make her proud by doing things the way she showed me.

A classmate, Ray Bellard, worked with me and together, we were probably lucky we never burned the place down. One hot day, Jim or Ken, not sure who, told Ray and I to clean up the loading area where we got our deliveries. Basically, we were told to go outside, pick up the trash and try to clean up the oil and grease stains that dominated the concrete loading area behind the fast food joint. Armed with deck brushes, buckets of hot water, soap, and a bottle of ammonia, we got to work. OSHA be damned, because protective gear like gloves and goggles was for sissies. Besides, what 12 or 13 year-old kid knew anyone who had been harmed by ammonia? Luckily, we were outside, weren’t breathing too many fumes and were anxious to complete this dirty task and get back inside the air-conditioned restaurant. One of us had the brilliant idea that we should clean the back hallway inside the restaurant. Surely if this ammonia stuff could clean concrete, it would do wonders on the grease-stained tile floor where we kept the trash cans and walked in and out all day. So we brought our cleaning supplies inside and began cleaning. Well, it didn’t take but a few minutes for the fumes to filter into the kitchen and get in the eyes and lungs of the other employees. I remember Mr. Ken yelling to open a door and telling Ray and I to get that ammonia cleaned up. He had tears in his eyes from the fumes and boy was he mad. I think I suddenly had the urge to hide in the bathroom, (at least I knew it would be clean, ha ha) or run through the sugarcane field across the street and not stop until I knew it was safe to return.

The good news was it didn’t take long for the air to clear and things got back to normal fairly quickly. I don’t think I’ve used ammonia since that day. Now bleach, that’s some good stuff and…..never mind.

From the start, the Kool King was the place to get good ice cream, especially for all of the baseball teams who wanted to celebrate a victory after their game. When I played Dixie Youth baseball, I played for the Knights of Columbus team. My Dad would get a kick out of the fact the Baptist Preacher’s kid played on the team sponsored by a Catholic organization. My last year playing Dixie Youth ball, our team was the best in the league and in fact, had an undefeated season. I, however was a lousy baseball player. I mean bad. However, I was on a great team that won something like 16 games that year. That meant, 16 times I was eating delicious Kool King ice cream. Did I mention that Dalton Hilliard was on my team? Smile. My coaches were Mr. Armato and Mr. Aucoin and although we didn’t realize it at the time, those two men forked out a lot of cash on us boys that year. More on baseball in another story but for now, I’m happy recalling the after-game treats with my teammates and remembering Mr. Armato and Mr. Aucoin who were great coaches, always encouraging us boys and tolerating a skinny kid named Steve whose growth spurt was probably being blocked by an unknown hormone inhibitor.

Here I am, 40 years later and still in the food business. Looking back, I realize the Kool King gave me a good foundation to start my career. Sure, it was only two years and I was very young, but I learned a lot and had fun. Mr. Ken and Mr. Jim were special people and made such a positive impression on me.

You may be wondering how I spent the money I earned during the time I worked at the Kook King. I put some of it in my savings account at Patterson State Bank and saw lots of movies at the Lake Cinema Theatre in Morgan City. I bought some cool shirts and jerseys at Jerry’s Sporting Goods, like the half shirt with the LSU decal on the front and my Patterson Lumberjack jersey with the number 00 on the back.

However, my biggest purchase was from Jackson’s TV and Appliances. I plopped my hard-earned money down on a Zenith Allegro Stereo. This bad boy had AM and FM, a cassette player, a three-speed turntable with lid and matching speakers with enough sound to make my mom yell, “Turn that music down” at least once a day. What did my mom have against KC and the Sunshine Band, Queen or The Commodores? Or maybe it was that Starland Vocal Band’s song, “Afternoon Delight” she hated? Just a song about a boy and a girl going on a picnic and probably holding hands and drinking Cokes, right? Right?

The Kool King was torn down and replaced with a Sonic and interestingly enough, at least as far as I know is being run by Jim Kleles’ wife, Ms. Pat and their son JJ. Stop by for some ice cream and tell them Steve sent you.

From Back to the Bayou, by Steve Achord