The year was 1967, and the month was probably late January or early February. Mary and I vividly remember the time and place, because we were just getting settled in our brand new two-story house in Franklin Park. None of our three boys were very happy about this move, because we had left our “real home” just five blocks away in Belmont Park. It was the only home they had ever known.
Everything about this new place was strange. They couldn’t fall sleep together in the same bedroom, there was no attic with a pull down ladder to play in, no dungeon in the basement (our old coal room), and no “magic forest” behind the house. Yes, there was lots of space all over the place and they had their own rooms. But, it was evident that it would take quite a while in their minds, and a “heap-a-livin’” in this strange new house to make it a real “home” like the old one!
While scouting the National Housewares Show in Chicago early that January, I ran across this brand new “happy-day” griddle-grill which was an ideal new product for the kitchen. It was made from die-cast aluminum, about 10 to 12 inches square, beautifully gift packaged, had a nice insulated handle and you could grill on both sides. Great for flapjacks or grilling steaks or hamburgers right on the stove top. The sample I ordered arrived at my office in just a few days, and I decided to give it a good home test. That’s when the excitement began.
Mike, who had just turned 2 in December loved to push the buttons on our new dishwasher and stove. We were still trying to break him of the habit, when Mary made toasted cheese sandwiches for lunch that day, punching the “off” button, and leaving the griddle on the stove. Somehow, Mike got the button pushed “on” right before she left with the kids to take me back to the office, and run a couple errands. When she got back home in half an hour, our new home was full of acrid, bitterly pungent, irritating smoke. The middle of that grill had melted right between the electric burner, and was still dripping molten metal. She immediately turned off the burner, and picked me up at the office to assess the damage. Fortunately, opening all the doors and windows cleared the house, with some air freshener, things were again “A-OK”.
The thing we still laugh about is the crazy tongue-in-cheek letter I sent the company, along with the grill, telling them of my wife’s heavy usage which completely wore out their new product in just a few days. I told them we would be glad to buy a replacement as soon as more rigorous testing was completed. But we were sure more research was needed.
The hilarious part of the whole deal is that the melted “happy day” grill apparently reached someone with absolutely no sense of humor. The letter was formally acknowledged, but no further word was ever received.
Forty years later, we’re still patiently waiting for another “happy-day” griddle grill. That’s a long time for further research!
Olden Days appears on Wednesdays. Contact the writer at mcneer@pcpartner.net