In the early spring of 1954, I was walking along South Main Street and as I approached the corner of the intersection with Torrence Street, I noticed a construction site. I was curious and walked up to the dark-headed young man who seemed to be directing the workers.
David McEwen was his name and he explained that he was building a Dairy Queen which would be open for business that summer. I was 15 years old at the time and figured I could get a job for the summer. He hired me on the spot.
I would be required to wear a white dress and a white apron edged with a red stripe on each side. On my head was a