January 6, 2009
Farewell, Old Friend
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The Dairi-O, a landmark in the tiny town where my dad grew up (and where most of my family still lives), closed its doors windows for the last time recently. You know times are tough when you can’t sell fried chicken in Lee County, South Carolina.
Their chicken was absolutely delightful. It was the kind of chicken that made you believe God created chickens and grease on the same day. You’d order a chicken basket - a large chicken basket, all white meat (2 breasts, 2 wings) with broasted potatoes. And you got “salad” (I use that term loosely) with the chicken basket - it was a small cup of shredded lettuce with a dressing I never cared to eat. And rolls. You got rolls with the chicken basket - small, boring, flat (very flat) rolls. It was quite the experience.
My dad sent me a link to this article from my hometown paper that said the Dairi-O had closed. I figured a farewell blog post would be appropriate.
I went online tonight looking for pictures of the Dairi-O but had little luck. I was able to find this on Google Maps. Click it for the full effect.
(In other news, somehow Bishopville, SC got on Google Street View.)
There’s no dining in (obviously), and the place is not exactly new (except for where they renovated after the fire), and you could eat at the picnic table next to the little building (though I doubt you’d want to). We always took the food back to my grandparents house, which is just a few minutes away, and enjoyed the greasy awesomeness there with them. Sometimes my Granny would trade me a breast for a wing, which is obviously a steal for me, but Granny loves the wings, so who am I to deprive her of what she loves?
There are some things worth noting in that picture.
- On the far left, notice the Dairi-O sign. That sign is a landmark in that small town. I’m not sure why people don’t use the giant, empty, decrepit old high school building as a landmark. Seems like the high school would be harder to miss than the fried chicken joint. But that’s Bishopville for you.
- Also on the left, notice the giant, empty, decrepit old high school building. That was Bishopville High School many years ago. My dad can still point out which room was the science lab and which was the principal’s office.
- Moving right, you’ll notice that the Dairi-O parking lot on this day was empty. The parking lot had no formal parking spots (just pull in and park somewhere), and sometimes you would get blocked in if you weren’t careful.
- In the building windows, you’ll see what appear to be poorly designed menu signs made out of flourescent poster board. Yup, that’s exactly what those are. These signs make for nearly 20 years of jokes in the Davis family. They say things like “Extras cost extra” and “Apple pie a la mode (with ice cream)” (no, I’m not kidding). The signs have been there so long, they’re a bit faded, and the prices have been crossed out and increased - twice. Again, I’m not kidding. They really got their money’s worth out of that poster board.
- On the far right is the picnic table. Never once did I see anyone eating at the table, but it carried remnants of meals from years of fine dining.
I remember when Bishopville had only one local phone exchange. That meant that instead of dialing 803-484-6275 or even 484-6275, you just had to pick up the phone and dial 6275. Every member of my family knows that number by heart. I even used it for my ATM PIN for a while. (I use something else now because 6275 was too obvious, so don’t steal my wallet hoping to get my money.)
You had to make sure you ordered in advance, too. 20 minutes, at least. No matter how busy they were or what time of day you called, they’d tell you they needed 20 minutes to get it ready. Then, when you showed up 30 minutes later, you usually spent another 10 minutes sitting in the parking lot waiting for the lady to signal that your chicken was ready.
So this is the end. No more nasty “salad” with greasy chicken. No more “extras cost extra” signs. No more jokes about eating at the picnic table. At least we’ve still got family. We’ll need family to get over this tremendous loss.
Farewell, Dairi-O. We’ll miss you.













