Small Town Chronicles: The A&W Girls 1967-1975

Earlier, we covered Imlay’s A&W opening in 1956, interviewed early car hop Sandy Dougherty, and discussed the loss of the Madeline Sisters and Karen Rider in 1966. As the community mourned, teens adopted changing styles, trading cuffed jeans for bell bottoms, buzz cuts for longer hair, the Beatles for the Rolling Stones and pursuing evolving technology careers from working on the family farm. Car designs shifted from flashy, chrome-heavy models with fins and bullet taillights to simpler, boxier, and more fuel-efficient vehicles.

At the heart of it all were Don and Joan Capman, whose steady presence and sense of fun created not just a workplace but a gathering spot for the community’s youth. As times changed, A&W adapted, but the essential spirit of those years, the music, the mischief, and the friendships formed—remained a cherished chapter in local history.

In the Car Hop business car speakers, car ports and awnings were added. Competition increased with the arrival of drive-throughs like McDonald’s and franchises such as Big Boy. Don and Joan Capman responded by extending their hours and adding indoor seating, while the Car Hop Girls remained a constant presence through all these innovations. Next, we’ll cover some of their experiences during the late 1960s to the 1970s.

Kathy Louwsma McGathy 1966-1972, 1973-1975
Cris Cowell Timmer 1965-1990

Kathy and Cris each praised the family vibe at work. They both recall that every year Joan and Don would host a Christmas party at their home on the corner of Sixth and Caulkins Streets. As Cris tells it: “Everyone played an instrument, whether we knew how to or not. We were pretty calm compared to nowadays. No drinking, they made sure we had a fun clean time. Our parents trusted them, and they had a lot of young kids there—although we thought we were grown.” Kathy added that “Don was a great piano player, He played a lot of ragtime music for us. It was just a nice wholesome atmosphere. They had their own young children there and they all were musical which made for a fun evening.” Cris added “Joannie took lessons from Mrs. (Miriam) Schoenfeld and could play the piano as well, Don played the Bass too.”

Before the inside seating and the remodeling, the drive-in was seasonal so that meant it was only open during the summer. The carport was added by the Capmans in the late 1960s. It had approximately 10 spots for cars on each side. Car speakers were added and now orders could be taken when a customer flipped up a switch. The food delivery was still the same, a tray with rubber tipped legs that adhered to a window. It needed to be raised to a specific level for the tray to balance.

Ruby Hammond 1967

Ruby Hammond, who was barely over five feet tall, began working for Don the summer before her freshman year. She described Don as a fair employer; their only disagreement occurred when a customer did not roll their window up far enough, resulting in the tray dropping and the loss of food and drinks. After explaining the situation to Don, he instructed her to redo the order. The incident repeated, with the coney dogs and root beer spilling again onto the customer’s lap. Ruby became flustered, but the customer apologized and declined another attempt, giving Ruby a five-dollar tip. Don suggested she offer the customer a complimentary root beer, but Ruby, then 15 years old, argued the customer was not interested. Don lost the argument that day. Ruby, who only worked weekends eventually left for another job at Tietz’s Drive-In across the street. After this experience, she consistently ensured vehicle windows were properly adjusted before serving orders. Ruby now lives in Lapeer.

Kathy and Cris admitted that dropping trays was frequent and embarrassing, but they were able to laugh it off together. Kathy often stayed with Cris and Les Timmer for support and a chat after work, sometimes heading to Pure Oil’s—the only 24-hour diner—for a late-night meal.

Charlotte Thompson Berryman 1969-70

Charlotte grew up around the restaurant business as her Grandpa Clarence Bush owned Bush’s Restaurant inside the Pure Oil Gas Station and Truck stop at the southwest corner of M53 and M21. When it came time for Thompson to work a summer job, her mother, Nelda Bush Thompson gave her a choice. Either work for her at the Truck Stop or apply elsewhere. A&W drive-in and Tietz’s drive-in both were within spitting distance of Bush’s. Charotte said she really didn’t want to work for her mom, and she had friends working for Don Capman, so she picked the A&W. “I worked there the summer of ‘69 and ‘70. I just remember starting out on hotdogs and was so happy when Don Capman pushed me up to the grill in the large front window. Now I could see the cruisers really well! I loved going to work. So much fun. My mother said I either I work for her at the truck stop or go across the street! I think I made a good decision.”

In 1970, Charotte made a dollar an hour, quite a jump from Sandy Stricker Dougherty’s 40 cent an hour wage in 1956. Thompson was dating Danny Maxwell that summer. Maxwell was a well-liked 20-year-old young man who graduated from Almont. One night he pulled up to pick Charlotte up from her late shift at the A&W, but Charotte wasn’t expecting him. Her friend Sue Touchette was visiting from Ohio and saw Charlotte’s discomfort. Sue insisted she ride home with her. Charlotte, concerned about Danny, wanted to make sure he would get home safely so Sue agreed to follow him. Danny dropped a friend of his off at home in Imlay City and continued toward Almont, to a farm where his sister lived. Around 2 a.m. Saturday July 11, 1970, Maxwell made a left turn in front of a car being driven by Donald Samel, 27 years old. Samel was on his way home from Ford Motor Company where he worked when the accident occurred. A third car struck Maxwell’s car after the initial collision. The girls were behind him and saw it all, but there was nothing they could do. Both men were pronounced dead at Lapeer County Hospital. Eerily it was close to the crash in 1966 where the three car hop girls were killed. Once again, the local area was dealing with the heavy burden of grief.

Such a staggering tragedy had its effect on all those that knew the young men, but even more so on the young witnesses. Thompson soon left Imlay to attended college in Denver, Colorado. While rebuilding her life she met Steve Berryman, an Alabama native who was attending the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. Charlotte, who classified herself as a “hippie type” in those years ended up marrying the air force man on December 31, 1971. Steve served four years in the service and for about a year and half the Berrymans lived in Imlay City. In 1973 her grandparents sold the truck stop and restaurant and soon the family followed them to Arizona. Steve and Charotte lived in different places in Arizona and Alabama while both worked in thei nsurance business and raised two daughters. Steve passed away in 2019, Charlotte said they had a wonderful forty-eight years together. Their daughters have blessed them with five grandchildren. Today Charotte splits her time between Arizona and Alabama. She enjoys time with her family and, when not traveling, likes to read and craft. She shares this philosophy: “Remember, there’s an invisible clock ticking—cherish those who love you and enjoy life.”

Kathy & Cris: Changes and Departures

When contacted, Kathy had a few photos available, including some interior shots of the A&W. The faded color photographs displayed dark wood paneling and a vinyl booth seat along the wall, accompanied by similarly upholstered high-back chairs. The décor featured elements typical of Early Americana, such as lantern-style light fixtures and a harness racing horse wall plaque, reflecting styles prevalent as the United States approached its bicentennial. The color palette included various shades of brown, matching the waitresses’ muted orange gingham shirts and slacks. The room was anchored by a prominent fireplace, reflecting the franchise’s new emphasis on creating a welcoming atmosphere for dine-in customers as shifts in social trends reduced the number of cruising teenagers. In 1972, the Capmans introduced indoor dining, which helped to strengthen their customer base and soon attracted a loyal morning coffee crowd. Kathy and Cris served as co-managers, taking on roles as cooks and waitresses when necessary. At this time, Kathy was considering attending a school in Kansas City that provided courses for young women interested in becoming airline stewardesses. Kathy graduated in 1969 and, like her brother Tom, loved muscle cars; she used her savings from working since 1965 to buy a 1970 red Dodge Challenger. She experienced conflicting emotions; although she valued her time with the Capmans, she recognized that she was now a young adult. She had ongoing car payments, and her school was located in Missouri. Don offered his support by retaining ownership of the car and assuming responsibility for Kathy’s car payments while she attended classes. If she chose to pursue a career with the airline, he would continue covering the payments and ultimately purchase the vehicle. However, if Kathy decided after the month-long course that it was not the right path for her and returned home, Don allowed her to reimburse him for the payments he made, enabling her to retain her cherished Challenger.

Kathy returned to work at A&W for about a year after the airline school, then left to start a family, as was common to do so in the early 1970s. Cris and Don brought her back in 1973 due to busy lunch hours, with the Imlay A&W Drive-In still performing strongly. Kathy remained employed at her previous workplace until approximately 1975, after which she joined her mother and sister at A&P, coincidentally altering only one letter of her employer’s name.

During her tenure as a cashier there, she recalled an encounter with the late Gertie Thayer, who had long operated the Thayer Dime Store on East Third Street. Gertie was known for her vigilance, particularly with young customers in her store. Kathy recounted that when Gertie approached her checkout lane, she scrutinized Kathy, raised a finger, and publicly stated: “You stole a candy bar, but I didn’t say anything about it—but you did, yes, you did!” Kathy acknowledged having done so, and reflected that the experience, especially the look from Gertie both then and years later, was impactful enough to guide her towards making honest choices thereafter. She expressed surprise that Gertie remembered the incident even after thirty years. This account highlights how, even prior to the advent of the internet, community members maintained a collective awareness of each other’s actions.

Kathy, a resident of Imlay Township, is still passionate about muscle cars and often attends car shows with her brother Tom. She wishes she still had that 1970 red Challenger. She retired from Farmer Jack in 2002, enjoys sharing a glass of root beer and small town life values with her daughter and granddaughter—and she never stole another candy bar.

During those years, besides events like airline school and dining room remodels, Cris remembered a helicopter crash behind the car hop. The pilot exited and calmly asked to use the phone. Judy Zuhkle Uptegraff, who lived nearby, recalled seeing people run toward the field after the crash. No one was injured, and the incident that happened around 1974-75 quickly became local news and showcased Cris calm demeanor.

Cris advanced to become a manager at A&W and worked closely with Don. Starting as a car hop in 1965, Cris later hired Judy Zuhkle Uptegraff when she became a manager about ten years later. For every tray that balanced perfectly and every order that made it safely into hungry hands, there were quiet moments of mentorship and friendship: she was a sympathetic boss easing the sting of a mistake, a co-worker lending a shoulder after a hard night, or the comfort of familiar faces in the lull between rushes.

Judy Zuhlke Uptegraff 1975

Judy, a member of Imlay’s graduating class of 1976, grew up near the A&W establishment, with her family residing in a small white house located east of John Weyer’s Standard Gas Station on the north side of M21. The gas station was situated between the Zuhlke family farm and the A&W, affording Judy a distinctive perspective on “Shull’s corner” and firsthand observations of the variety of businesses that operated at that location.

She recalls visiting the gas station and getting soft drinks from a vending machine, though when her cousins Fred and Mike Griswold—residents of North Branch—visited as teenagers, their enthusiasm for the A&W was evident: “The first thing they would do was run from the car to the A&W and get a jug of root beer. I never understood their excitement.” In the mid-1960s, the A&W operated as a small car hop, without amenities such as a car port, awning, or speakers for ordering. Dining out was considered infrequent for many families during this period; however, Judy recalls enjoying 15-cent coney dogs on Tuesdays and, on occasion, Mama and Papa burgers.

When Judy was hired as a carhop, her supervisor was Polly Godo (Collins). While she did not initially aspire to become a waitress or carhop, her desire to purchase contact lenses prompted her parents to encourage her to earn the necessary funds. Her boyfriend’s brother, a manager at the A&W, recommended she apply for a carhop position. Ironically, she never worked under his supervision. Judy held various roles at the restaurant, expressing a preference for hosting in the dining room over cooking, noting, “You seated people, brought coffee and food. They didn’t have waitresses in the traditional sense because patrons ordered at the table on a speaker. It was unusual, but perhaps more efficient.” She described the dining area as cozy and reminiscent of a restaurant.

Her initial responsibilities included car hopping, which she found physically demanding due to the weight of the trays, sometimes resulting in carpal tunnel syndrome for herself and colleagues. She humorously recounted an incident where she accidentally spilled milkshakes on classmates, the Bissett Boys, twice in succession; fortunately, they responded with good humor.

She was moved on to the cooking section and absolutely hated it, but her goal of contact lenses before the start of her senior year drove her on. “It really was a very busy place, lots of activity, traffic. Living almost next to it, I could hear it from the bedroom window, when it was open during the hot summer nights.” Judy added with a chuckle “my commute wasn’t long.” I asked her if she saved enough money for her contacts. “To the penny, they cost a lot back then. As soon as I had the money, I quit! I also had drivers training to take that summer as the school had cut driving training because of budget cuts, so I waited until after my junior year to take it.” For Judy her car hop days were a means to an end.

The experience as a carhop provided Judy with clarity regarding her interests and aptitudes, ultimately shaping her future ambitions. Following graduation, she pursued careers as a graphic artist, typesetter, and writer for publications such as The Country Shopper, the County Press, and the Advisor/Tri-City Times. Later, she entered the medical field as a records clerk and concluded her professional journey after three decades as a medical transcriptionist. Alongside her career, Judy raised two children and lives in Lapeer.

Each woman’s story is a window into a different era, but common threads run through them: the struggle for independence, the pride of a hard-earned dollar and the camaraderie of working shoulder to shoulder, even on the hottest days. The A&W was more than a drive-in—it was a rite of passage for generations of local teens. A stage where lessons in grace under pressure, quick arithmetic, and the delicate art of balancing a heavy tray with a smile were practiced daily.

Those evenings were punctuated by the laughter that drifted across the lot and the scented haze of fried food and sweet syrup. Every mug washed, every order delivered, became part of a rhythm—one that shaped friendships and fostered resilience. The car hops remember the kindnesses of bosses who became mentors, the misadventures with fellow employees, and the gentle scoldings or encouragements that nudged them forward. Some kept the job only a summer, others returned year after year, finding in the ritual of the work a sense of belonging and purpose.

As the years turned, the faces behind the trays changed, but the core experience remained: teenage girls (and a few boys) stepping into the world, learning to navigate both responsibility and freedom, and leaving their mark—however briefly—on the ever-evolving story of a small town.

In our next installment of Small Town Chronicles: the 1980s, last decade of our beloved A&W.

Contact Lynn at tct@pageone-inc.com