GREG JAKLEWICZ

An Abilene icon: Larry has made a better burger for 50 years

It's not Larry's Gourmet Burger.

This is about as much of Larry Olney as a Larry's Better Burger customer will see of the man who has operated the northside drive-up for 50 years. While son Danny does the cooking these days, his dad still takes orders at the window.

It's simply a Better Burger.

"We make 'em the old-fashioned way," said Larry Olney, who this month celebrated 50 years in business at 1233 North Treadway Boulevard drive-up. He admits his place wasn't much to look at when he took over in 1967, and less so now.

"It was old and worn out then," he said. The Better Burger started in 1952 or 1953, he said, when Treadaway was Magnolia Street. "Just a crackerbox stand."

What he saves on exterior design and not advertising, other than word of mouth, he passes on to his customers. You still can get four small cheeseburgers for under $9, and four large ones for under $12.

It's an icon, not an eyesore, in Abilene. As other businesses, especially eateries, have come and gone, Larry's still draws a crowd.

A visitor to Abilene may drive right by, but the natives know they won't find a better, or cheaper, burger.

So, Larry, what makes your burger "old-fashioned?"

Grease is the word.

Larry doesn't seem to one interested in being politically correct. For example, Kentucky Fried Chicken now may be KFC, but his place never will be LBB.

"A little greasy," is how he describes his burgers. Not flame-broiled or doused in special sauce.

Some people actually ask for more grease, he said. The late Harold Christian, for example. Not extra pickles on his burger; extra grease.

Christian and his father, Tobe, operated a barbecue joint just a few blocks away. The Christians' cooking drew a large white crowd, and they charged a little more. Harold, Larry said, would come over for a good burger ... and to save money.

Back in the day, a big burger cost 35 cents. Or 4 for a $1.

"We're still very cheap," he said. Not much profit margin.

Back then, the neighborhood and clientele was mostly African-American. Because the Better Burger offered to serve them when other places did not, the business became part of their community.

Today, customers are "a third white, a third Spanish and a third black," Larry said. "I feed the rich, I feed the poor. My parents taught me everyone was equal."

"Unless I know them," he said, "I couldn't tell you 20 minutes later what color they were."

His daughter Paula said that has been an admirable trait of her father.

"I've never heard a racial slur from him," she said. That wasn't true of other members of his generation, she added.

Over the years, the clientele expanded. Larry came up with the Wildcat Special for Abilene Christian students — steak sandwich, fries and a drink.

"We've sold a world of them," he said.

HSU? There's the Cowboy Basket, full of chicken strips. 

Larry has turned over the cooking to son Danny, one of his four children. All worked at Larry's at some point. Paula, assistant registrar at nearby Hardin-Simmons University, stops by to help now and then.

Her father fills drinks, takes counter orders and calls out a number when it's ready. He slides bags of burgers through one of two small windows. He's a tall fella who once played basketball. But most people get only a peek at him through the 15-inch window opening.

"Come back and see us," he tells his customers, who pay in cash. No check, no credit or debit cards at Larry's. "Don't wait too long ... we're trying to make a living."

A customer braves the rain this week to order lunch at Larry's Better Burger on North Treadaway Street. Customers order at one of two windows, then wait in their vehicle until their order number is called.

On this rainy day, Ramona was in the office, along with Larry's sister, Marilyn. They were taking phone orders. There's no inside dining, though longtime friends are welcome to eat in the office. Just as long as someone brings a pan of brownies or some other goodies. They still may be put to work when it gets real busy.

And it does. It's sometimes hard to find a parking spot an hour after the lunch rush.

Danny is a burger-making machine. To his left is the griddle, where burgers are bubbling to perfection. To his right is the board on which he builds the sandwich, bun up.

"There's the secret right there," someone said. "He uses shredded lettuce."

The Olneys know quick service at "dinner" is essential.

"A lot of them only have 30 minutes," Larry said.

For the record, Larry enjoys burgers. But he probably has had his share over the years, so he doesn't often make one for himself. If a call-in order is not picked up, he'll eat a hamburger.

Mustard or ketchup, Larry? 

"Don't matter," he said.

He prefers to eat at home. Ramona, his wife of 56 years, is a good cook, he said.

His favorite dish?

"Whatever I make him," she said, laughing. "He loves pineapple upside-down cake."

While Larry's Better Burger has not cooked up the latest fads in the food service business, there have been changes. The place used to be open seven days a week, until 11 p.m. Now, it's five days and until 9. 

"He's always here," Danny said. 

"I can count on one hand the days he didn't come in," Paula added.

Larry said he didn't have much choice.

"I didn't have that luxury" of not working, he said.

Now, if Larry's isn't much to look at, it does pass inspection inside. But it's a tight work area, especially when Larry, Danny, 21-year employee Pam Lee and Kelly Yates, the baby of the bunch with four years, are in gear. There's no music. Just the banter with customers, the sizzle of burgers cooking, ice tumbling in foam cups and the fridge closing when Danny has to refill the tomato or lettuce tray.

Pam Lee fills a tray with onion rings at Larry's Better Burger. She has worked at the northside drive-up restaurant for 21 years.

Air-conditioning now keeps the place comfortable in the summer but the chore is battling the north wind when the order/pickup windows open in the winter.

The Better Burger has not missed a beat, even the time a grease fire was reported in the middle of the night. Power was knocked out but, well, that's what extension cords are for and Larry's was back in business later in the day.

The place has been robbed a time or two, but not lately.

Hanging in the office are framed memorabilia, such as the first sales tax certificate, Larry's old car (above another cool car by longtime friend Jim West ) and a framed story from the Abilene Christian University newspaper, the Optimist. The headline reads "Abilene's oldest drive-thru."

"We've never been a drive-thru," Larry said. But they were going strong before Bill's Burger on the south side, and has seen likes of Baum's and Mack Eplen's restaurant empire come and go. The Dixie Pig has been in business longer than the Better Burger, as have Farolito's and El Fenix. But it's the last continuously-operated drive-up left in town.

"I've fed everyone," Larry said. "Even the other end. I've had 'em all over the years."

First of the month, when folks have money, always has been busy. But Paula noted people who didn't have money didn't go away hungry

Serve anyone famous?

Not really, he said. Billie Sol Estes would come by. And pay. Otherwise, just local folks.

Kelly Yates takes a customer's order at one of two service windows at Larry's Better Burger. Her customer is all smiles thinking about what's for lunch. Many customers come to Larry's every week; a few, the owner said, come every day.

Larry is glad Danny agreed to man the Better Burger.

"If he didn't," said dad, who's now 78, "I'd have shut this place down."

As success stories go, this one is not exactly rags to riches. Larry was one of 10 kids from a family "poor of Joe's turkey" that lived "20 miles out in the country," sort of close to Truby in Jones County. A 1957 graduate of Noodle High School, he was told to use his own noodle and get a college education. Or wind up digging ditches.

Funny thing, he said, those guys probably make a good living.

But he has made it. All bills are paid. 

"So far, I haven't spent a night in jail," he said

Daughters Vicki (flower shop business) and Paula and sons Kevin (Olney Brothers trucking business) and Danny were raised at the Better Burger.

Larry didn't make it through HSU, and was working for Ponca Wholesale when Jackie Payne, who ran both the Better Burger and a southside restaurant, asked him take over the northside drive-up.

With $100 in the register to pay bills and make change, Larry did so. He continued working at Ponca and at the Better Burger to pay his original debt and didn't get into more. Along the way, he has dabbled in running cattle, farming and tractor pulling.

He was agreeable to having a 50th anniversary story done on his business.

Don't make it too bad, he said, and don't make it too good.

"We've got enough business," he said.

Who says that in 2017?

Twitter: @GregJaklewicz