After our “safari” we loaded into the van, it was apparent we were going to need to eat before the four hour drive home. That was the final surprise. Our special dinner was planned for Lambert’s Cafe, home of the Throwed Rolls. It took a half hour to drive there, and when I saw the overflow parking filled with vehicles and people milling around the front waiting, I thought it would be a long time until we got in. But, John checked, and there was only an hour wait when often it is two to three hours. Some of us went to a nearby store, and then we stayed near the vans chatting. The temperatures were still pleasant, and another storm was coming closer. Lambert’s were true to their word, and in less than an hour, they called over the loudspeakers for us. We walked past the crowded waiting area into the almost festive atmosphere. You have to be there to experience it, but yes, they actually do throw your rolls to you. A young man with red suspenders and bow-tie and an old-fashioned metal cart filled with pans of hot dinner rolls walks through every five or so minutes and calls out with a perfect twang, “Hot rolls!” He’ll repeat it a few more times, and fingers and hands go up throughout the room, trying to catch his attention for a roll. People pause from eating and watch. The guy was amazingly accurate with his throws, and then it was just the question if you could catch it or if he had to throw another one.
It’s a down-home style place, and servers go around with “pass-alongs” and offer you sides such as fried okra, onions and potatoes, molasses/sorgum for your rolls, and other items.
We managed to squeeze into a booth made for 10. And when I say squeeze, I truly mean it. But we were all together. It was a wonderful end to the surprises! I praise the Lord for such a godly father. It was truly a blessing to bless him.
“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!” (Psalms 133:1).