The Menz Family Tradition Continues
Written by DERRI SCARLETT
Back in 1926, William Hennis had
something on his mind. His 19-year-old grandson, Franklin Menz, was in the
hospital for an extended period, and had lost a leg to cancer.
Fearing that Franklin had little to
look forward to, and knowing that - in those days - finding a job would be
difficult, Granddad Hennis decided to give him a piece of ground he owned on
Route 47 in Millville. His hope was that Franklin could make himself a
little business, and have something to do with his time.
Sixty years and several moves later,
Franklin's little business is still going.
Franklin put that original property to
good use, selling produce to passers-by.
By 1930, he expanded his operation to
a roadside stand, where he sold hot dogs and hamburgers and pumped gas at 12
gallons per dollar.
In 1933, the bought a beer license
(the forerunner of a liquor license) and began serving a "full" menu, which
included 25- and 35- cent dinners.
Franklin's early waitress staff
included a young Millville woman named Marie Quinn. Preliminary arguments
showed they might be onto something, and in 1937 she took on the additional
job of being Mrs. Menz.
She brought several recipes to the
family business, and more evolved through the years. Even now, her deviled
crabs, cole slaw and banana whipped cream pie are favorite staples of their
menu.
When Route 55 came through the Millville area,
their restaurant was a casualty of progress and soon after, Franklin and Marie
brought their family to Rio Grande, where they bought Fort Apache, a recreated
Old West town, and turned it into a campground.
During and after this venture, they operated several businesses, but non we as satisfying as their original.
In 1977, his children, now grown, were
bitten by the restauranteurial bug, and Franklin and Marie found themselves back
in the business, this time accompanied by Denise, Trudy and Jay Menz.
They opened Menz's Seafood Take Out on
July fourth of that year and added a dining room the following January.
Like the buildings, the furnishings,
antiques, bric-a-brac and oddities have been collected through the years, the
restaurant is now a staple for "locals" and visitors alike.
The restaurant's latest acquisition was
the purchase of a liquor license on June of 2000. By July the new enclosed
front porch bar was in full swing, including Happy Hour every Friday night
complete with entertainment hor'doerves and specialty drinks.
The Menz family is continuing the
tradition born many years ago not too far away; to give people a good meal at a
fair price and make them want to come back.
Marie Menz 1916-2002
Marie Menz, a ka
"The Duchess," was the hand that rocked the cradle and made the rules in the
Menz family until her death in 2002.
Wife of the late, great J. Franklin Menz
she was the acknowledged matriarch of the family, "the iron fist in the
velvet glove."
The Duchess had a large circle of friends,
mainly because she was at home with everyone. During her life, there were
lean times and times of plenty, but she never changed. She was equally at
ease with her well-to-do friends and her workers.
A dignified
and discreet gentlewoman, she was the unofficial Miss Manners for all
who knew her: quiet and calm but unyielding, especially when pressing
her case for doing the right thing.
She was also known to channel Mae West
from time to time. One of her trademark lines, a la Mae West, was,
"It's better to be looked over than to be overlooked." And her big
hats, big earrings and red, red, lipstick - she never was. (She kept
her hair red, too, which she claimed was hers by her Irish birthright!)
She was a devout pinochle player, hosing raucous games that lasted until the sun came up.
In the various restaurants she opened
and operated with her husband - and later her children - she preferred
to work behind the scenes. Despite advancing years, she put in many
long hours in the restaurant, until illness kept her away. There she
was known for her efficiency and calmness, cutting through the sometimes
frantic desperation around her with a quiet, "What do you need right
now?"
The Duchess lives on in the hearts of
her family and friends, and in the restaurant's dedication to quality
and good times.
J. Franklin Menz 1907-1992
Frequent
visitors to our restaurant may notice something is missing. The decor
hasn't changed, nor has the menu.
In November 1992, the patriarch of our
clan, Franklin Menz ("Pop Menzie" to our younger visitors) ended a long
life dedicated to good food and good works.
For the benefit of those who never knew
him, Pop held court near our cash register for the last several years.
From a large recliner chair, he greeted old friends and welcomed new
ones, explaining his left-handed handshake as "closer to the heart."
Children especially took to him,
particularly when he promised them lollipops if they "cleaned their
plates."
When children were bold enough to ask
him how he'd lost his leg, he would regale them with a horrific - and
completely untruthful - story of wandering into the street as a young
boy when his parents told him not to. (When he really lost his leg to
cancer more than 60 years ago.) In his cautionary tale, he described
that he had lost his leg due to an errant truck. He'd end his story by
looking the child right in the eye and saying, "You'd never go out in
the street without looking, would you?"
Pop was a
large and friendly man whose ready smile and boisterous spirit survived
his 60-year battle with cancer and fueled his rise as a restaurateur
from his early start with a hotdog stand in Millville, New Jersey.
One of the few things that troubled him
was a child in need. He earned a reputation early as someone who shared
whatever good fortune he had with those who needed it. If he learned of
a child without shoes for school, or milk for breakfast, he reached into
his pocket and the necessary item appeared.
To draw attention to a group of
children forced to make a dangerous walk to school, he escorted them in
his wheelchair. Shortly thereafter, the school district provided a bus.
Forceful and gruff, Pop was not what
today would be termed "politically correct," but he was years ahead of
his time in respected anyone who earned it - regardless of race or sex.
And he demanded the same for himself.
Anyone who underestimated him because
of his wheelchair soon learned differently. He built businesses and
bounced ruffians, and he was, in general, a learning experience to those
who thought a wheelchair was a "handicap."
His lifetime dedication to service did not
go unnoticed, and he received many awards and honors over the years. The
last came shortly before he died, when Governor Jim Florio presented him
with the state's "Humanitarian of the Year" award. Representative William
Hughes, Senator Frank Lautenberg and Middle Township Mayor Michael Voll were
in attendance. But perhaps he would have been most pleased by the tribute
he received posthumously at the end of the year, when he was named Honorary
Grand Marshall of the Middle Township Christmas Parade. It was an event
filled with laughing children and good will towards men, two of his favorite
things.
