You can tell a lot about a place by the cars parked in its lot. An abundance of BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes makes an establishment look snobbish; a place like that is as inviting to a broke college student as Cuba is to democracy. A fleet of Harley-Davidsons and beat up Ford trucks with Confederate Flag mud-flaps in a tavern's parking lot warns a potential patron to expect plenty of whisky, shotguns and barroom brawls. The lot at Fat Shirley's 24 Hour Coffee Shoppe is an enigma.

A worn-down pick-up with a bumper sticker reading "Charlton Heston is MY President" is found itself next to a Honda Civic with an Indiana "Children First" license plate. A few spaces down a blue and white Crown Vic Police Cruiser sits beside a bright red Cadillac. The range of automobiles in its lot serves as a visible reminder of what makes Fat Shirley's so popular: a customer base as diverse as the community they come from.

The common names of the restaurant are just as unique. Your choice of nomenclature reveals as much about your personality as the car you drove there in. Ask a Notre Dame or Saint Mary's student and you may hear it called "Fat Shirley's." A South Bend resident would know it as "The Gag and Heave." The bright red lights on the front exterior wall proclaim the name "24 Hour Coffee Shoppe." Consult a menu or the storefront window sign and you will learn the official name: "The White House Restaurant." The names themselves are unimportant. What matters most is that on the east side of South Bend, at the intersection of Mishawaka Avenue and Twyckenham Drive, within the faded, off-white walls of an aging building, there exists a soul rarely seen anywhere else in the world.

The food at Fat Shirley's is as diverse as the gang of cohorts eating it. The greasy spoon atmosphere is enough to make Aretha Franklin's Soul Food Café in the "Blues Brothers" blush. Cheeseburgers and fries simmer on the grill next to eggs and bacon at all hours of the day. The menu features favorites with names like "The Trucker's Special" and "The Fat Shirley." Nothing served here is for the weak of heart — eat the sausage and bacon now and worry about the cholesterol later. Since Fat Shirley's is open 24 hours a day, breakfast is served anytime and it is not unusual to see omelets and scrambled eggs savored long after the sun has set. And of course, nothing on the menu will set you back more than five bucks.

"So much eats for so little money," Tom Rippinger, a Holy Cross College freshman, said. "What more can a debt-overloaded college student ask for?"

Without a doubt the flagship of Fat Shirley's greasy armada is the Double Omelet. A behemoth concoction, it is certainly not for the week-willed or those with a family history of heart disease. A more Puritanical customer would scoff at the idea of buttered eggs, bacon, ham, onions and green peppers beaten and whipped into the breakfast food equivalent of the "Old 96er," the 96-pound steak which gave John Candy so much trouble (and, undoubtedly, heart-burn like no other) in "National Lampoon's Great Outdoors." The enlightened patron, however, realizes that life is too short to count calories and watch waistlines.

"I've been coming here for 31 years, almost daily," Mark Spurrier, a South Bend resident and Fat Shirley's regular, said. "And I haven't had a heart attack yet."

The customers, who come from all walks of life, and the fantastic food are two of the characteristics which make Fat Shirley's great. The main reason the restaurant remains so popular, however, is its heart. As cliché as it sounds, Fat Shirley's is more than just a restaurant. The face of South Bend has changed drastically over the years but one constant has been Fat Shirley's. For many it's a way of life. It is almost as if the restaurant is an extended family member, the beloved aunt who always has a home-made pie cooling on the window sill or the elderly uncle who is always ready to give a pat on the back. This familial atmosphere is what keeps people coming back.

"You see a lot of people who come in here with their dads and grandfathers," Christine Chamielewski, a regular customer, said. "And the dads and grandfathers came here with their own dads and grandfathers."

The hometown feeling extends even past the customers. The waitresses and staff are perfectly happy to chat with customers, many of whom are old friends. Fat Shirley's transforms itself from a restaurant full of strangers into the family kitchen that is full of old pals and relatives.

"In the old days the owner was always around, always in the kitchen, always with a cigar," Chamielewski said. "He still comes in now and insists on making the doughnuts himself."

Fat Shirley's is the kind of place new fathers escape to drink a cup of coffee at 3 a.m. after a late night in the delivery room. It is the sort of spot where fathers and sons celebrate birthdays; the passage into manhood is marked by the ability to eat an entire Double Omelet and drink black coffee.

An over-worked mother can get a day's repose and let Shirley do the cooking. A weary police officer, fresh from the late night beat, can stop in for a bottomless cup of coffee and a fresh, homemade donut. A factory worker can sit next to a college student at midnight and eat breakfast, forgetting about their troubles for a while. Old pals who have had a falling out can mend fences and make their peace over a plate full of American fries, which are the best ones in town according to the regular customers. The heart of the community pours in through Fat Shirley's doors all day and all night.

"It really is a social home. There's always somebody here you recognize," Spurrier said. "It's kind of like a bad habit, but a bad habit with great American fries."

With a wink and a smile he added, "When I was at Bethel College we'd sneak out of the dorm, eat breakfast late at night and irritate Shirley."

Fat Shirley's means a great deal to many people. The officer at the end of the counter may see it as an escape from a rough night on the beat. The father with his son may remember when his own father introduced him to the restaurant. The group of friends at the corner may come for the memories of past late nights stolen away inside Fat Shirley's. The elderly couple sharing a slice of pie may be celebrating an anniversary or the birth of a new grandchild. Whatever the motivation for a visit one fact remains constant: Fat Shirley's is a truly unique experience.

"There aren't many places like Fat Shirley's," Andy Callan, an O'Neill Hall freshman and South Bend native, said. "Every time you step in the door you're in for an adventure, whether it be the food or the company."

In a world that suddenly seems more dangerous every day, larger concerns invade our lives. The simple pleasures in life — a strong cup of coffee, a home-cooked meal and unique company to enjoy them in — become all the more precious.

They are like the last few sunny days in October when fall defies winter for one more week before turning into a dreary November or a grown man reminiscing on youthful days playing catch with his old man before time stole his innocence and made him middle-aged old man himself. These frozen moments of pure bliss when nothing else matters but the moment itself are now more poignant than ever before. At Fat Shirley's, they're served 24 hours a day.

Contact Bob Masters at amasters@nd.edu.

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