I talked to a few of Eddie's customers to find out if indeed they came to Eddie's to remember. One customer was there with his daughter. He said that visiting the place in fact brought back memories of the 1950s. It was also a place to go, a destination, in his 1966 Corvette convertible. He could drive to the nearby beach and spend $4 to park or come to Eddie's and have a meal. His daughter enjoyed the experience of being with her dad in the car. Other customers told me that they came because they were nostalgic for another time. It was place to bring old cars and also see old cars. One customer wistfully told me that he valued Eddie's because he was an "environmentalist." He pointed to the development next door where trees had just been cut down to make way for a new medical building. "Things are changing around here," he said. This customer's comment forced me to look around. Eddie's is on the edge of a public park on its left, and is across from a small park on the lake where boats are launched. But much of the surrounding woods, privately owned, is for sale. The resort-town feel of the place, and its trees in particular, are actually and potentially threatened. Eddie's is a placemarker, a "hold out," in a world that might forget. The customer's comments reinforces Hayden's claim that citizens' memories about places can be a catalysts for preservation.

In the left photo, you can see a large park on the backround behind Eddie's. On the right of Eddie's, a new development is going up. Below, acreage near and across from Eddie's is for sale.