This one was originally written in 2005, now Market Street is becoming illuminated with all of the flashing signs. However I still have a soft spot in my heart for the Burger King sign. The soft spot in my heart was not caused by over-consumption of fast foods.
Today I am going to talk about the Burger King restaurant on West Market Street in the Yorkville section of Pottsville. Many of you are unaware of its history. Hold onto your hats.
I was not going to miss the arrival of the Burger King to the county seat. It was in the late 1960s when his royal majesty first arrived with his courtesans looking for a location to open up a franchise restaurant that would sell “fast foods” in the coal region. Prior to that time people had to wait several minutes to be served a meal. The city mayor felt that this was way too long; something had to be done. To entice the King to do business with the city, local officials promised to build the “highest monument to his highness” that Schuylkill County had ever seen.
Opponents stated that restrictions on signs in residential neighborhoods were essential; large illuminated signs were not consistent with the image of the residential section it was to built in, such a monument would diminish Pottsville’s historic appeal and local charm, and finally the sign would be a first step in transforming a unique small city into Anytown, USA. They argued that reasonable restrictions on commercial signs would enhance the city and foster our local sense of place, community pride, tourism and economic development. The large sign planned at Burger King would chip away at the distinctive, historic fabric of the city.
“No place retains its special character by accident. Successful communities always have a vision for the future,” cried one opponent.
The proponents scoffed at these critics. “The future is in large, internally illuminated, plastic signs! That is what the people want!” Soon it was decided that if the restaurant would open up in Yorkville, a sign “fit for a King” would be erected along Market Street. The sign would be so large that it would light up the former sleepy village of Yorkville, transforming its appearance to that of Las Vegas (with the gambling of course downtown and not in Yorkville).
For months the plastic artisans worked around the clock. The steel columns were completed by June 14, 1970 and by June 23rd all was ready. John Temple, with twelve mules, succeeded in pulling the signage up West Market Street followed by a large crowd of hungry onlookers, just waiting to gobble up double bacon cheeseburgers by the bagful.
The grand dedication was held July 4, 1970 with elaborate ceremonies. Although the day started out with a heavy downpour, the parade went on as scheduled. Yorkville Hose Company lead the parade with a large banner proclaiming “Hold the Pickle!” followed by the First Humane with its banner: “Hold the Lettuce!” The Women of the Shelter marched behind with a banner, "Special Orders Don't Upset Us!" and The Pottsville Kilties performed one of their last gigs playing a bagpipe rendition of the famous jingle.
All of the city’s notables were in attendance. Now Pottsville was not only the home of John O’Hara, but also of the Big Whopper. Yes, the unveiled sign proclaimed Pottsville to be the “Home of the Whopper!” A tear came to my eye that day. I remembered that the Big Whopper, who had hit the charts with his record, “Chantilly Lace” but never dreamed that the Big Whopper called Pottsville his home. I was now bursting with Pottsville Pride. After his untimely death in the plane crash on February 3, 1959 the Big Whopper was basically forgotten. Now; he was finally getting his just desserts, and I don’t mean Dutch apple pie.
At the dedication the men all bowed and women curtsied when the His Highness, the Burger King, clad in burgundy robes and bejeweled crown on his gargantuan prosthetic-like head, turned on the power to light the large plastic sign and the crowds then swarmed in for croisson’wichs ( with sausage). The sign remains to this day as a blessing from the fixed-grinned, glassy-eyed monarch to his subjects. Long live the King!
A final orator at the dedication proclaimed it was the dawn of a new age in the city’s burgeoning tourist trade that had slumped enormously since the closing of the gin joints along Minersville Street. “Now when the tourists fly in to the Zerbe airport for the Spelling Bee or Winter Carnival activities, they will be able to spot the large sign from 5,000 feet above ground. No longer will the city lose business privilege taxes as a result of out- of-town competition, such as Tommy’s M &S in St. Clair!”
He was absolutely correct. The beauty of the Yorkville Burger sign surpassed not only the grandeur of both the Garfield and Clay monuments, but also the natural splendor of the Route 61 Indian Head to boot! And the tourists took notice indeed. Now in the 21st century, the Burger King sign is the final stop on the walking tour of Pottsville and it is common to see brides, grooms, high school graduates and dropouts getting photographed underneath the illuminated signpost. Long Live the King!
I was not going to miss the arrival of the Burger King to the county seat. It was in the late 1960s when his royal majesty first arrived with his courtesans looking for a location to open up a franchise restaurant that would sell “fast foods” in the coal region. Prior to that time people had to wait several minutes to be served a meal. The city mayor felt that this was way too long; something had to be done. To entice the King to do business with the city, local officials promised to build the “highest monument to his highness” that Schuylkill County had ever seen.
Opponents stated that restrictions on signs in residential neighborhoods were essential; large illuminated signs were not consistent with the image of the residential section it was to built in, such a monument would diminish Pottsville’s historic appeal and local charm, and finally the sign would be a first step in transforming a unique small city into Anytown, USA. They argued that reasonable restrictions on commercial signs would enhance the city and foster our local sense of place, community pride, tourism and economic development. The large sign planned at Burger King would chip away at the distinctive, historic fabric of the city.
“No place retains its special character by accident. Successful communities always have a vision for the future,” cried one opponent.
The proponents scoffed at these critics. “The future is in large, internally illuminated, plastic signs! That is what the people want!” Soon it was decided that if the restaurant would open up in Yorkville, a sign “fit for a King” would be erected along Market Street. The sign would be so large that it would light up the former sleepy village of Yorkville, transforming its appearance to that of Las Vegas (with the gambling of course downtown and not in Yorkville).
For months the plastic artisans worked around the clock. The steel columns were completed by June 14, 1970 and by June 23rd all was ready. John Temple, with twelve mules, succeeded in pulling the signage up West Market Street followed by a large crowd of hungry onlookers, just waiting to gobble up double bacon cheeseburgers by the bagful.
The grand dedication was held July 4, 1970 with elaborate ceremonies. Although the day started out with a heavy downpour, the parade went on as scheduled. Yorkville Hose Company lead the parade with a large banner proclaiming “Hold the Pickle!” followed by the First Humane with its banner: “Hold the Lettuce!” The Women of the Shelter marched behind with a banner, "Special Orders Don't Upset Us!" and The Pottsville Kilties performed one of their last gigs playing a bagpipe rendition of the famous jingle.
All of the city’s notables were in attendance. Now Pottsville was not only the home of John O’Hara, but also of the Big Whopper. Yes, the unveiled sign proclaimed Pottsville to be the “Home of the Whopper!” A tear came to my eye that day. I remembered that the Big Whopper, who had hit the charts with his record, “Chantilly Lace” but never dreamed that the Big Whopper called Pottsville his home. I was now bursting with Pottsville Pride. After his untimely death in the plane crash on February 3, 1959 the Big Whopper was basically forgotten. Now; he was finally getting his just desserts, and I don’t mean Dutch apple pie.
At the dedication the men all bowed and women curtsied when the His Highness, the Burger King, clad in burgundy robes and bejeweled crown on his gargantuan prosthetic-like head, turned on the power to light the large plastic sign and the crowds then swarmed in for croisson’wichs ( with sausage). The sign remains to this day as a blessing from the fixed-grinned, glassy-eyed monarch to his subjects. Long live the King!
A final orator at the dedication proclaimed it was the dawn of a new age in the city’s burgeoning tourist trade that had slumped enormously since the closing of the gin joints along Minersville Street. “Now when the tourists fly in to the Zerbe airport for the Spelling Bee or Winter Carnival activities, they will be able to spot the large sign from 5,000 feet above ground. No longer will the city lose business privilege taxes as a result of out- of-town competition, such as Tommy’s M &S in St. Clair!”
He was absolutely correct. The beauty of the Yorkville Burger sign surpassed not only the grandeur of both the Garfield and Clay monuments, but also the natural splendor of the Route 61 Indian Head to boot! And the tourists took notice indeed. Now in the 21st century, the Burger King sign is the final stop on the walking tour of Pottsville and it is common to see brides, grooms, high school graduates and dropouts getting photographed underneath the illuminated signpost. Long Live the King!
1 comment:
I've heard of poetic license but I'm not sure even that will cover re-naming J.P. Richardson aka the Big BOPPER, the big whopper. I had no idea that Burger King had been in Pottsville 37 years. The Colonel has been there a long time too- with KFC behind the Dunkin Donuts at Rt.61. Most of the places that serve hot dogs (Coney Island) hamburgers, fried chicken
and donuts will be there forever. They won't need cryogenics. It will just be a race to see if the Tricentennail arrives before all the residents die off from their diet.
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