When I was growing up, in Lincoln Nebraska, we usually walked home for lunch, ate our meal, did dishes and walked back to school in the span of an hour.

Mother would have our meal prepared when we got there, so it was a mere mater of washing hands and eating. Depending on the weather, that meal was often a sandwich or soup and a sandwich. Mother had a few ‘special’ sandwiches, one was peanut butter, mixed with raisins and grated carrots. That was my favorite! In second place was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Then an amazing thing happened.

When I was 8 or 9, I was introduced to the ‘club sandwich’. This was an occasion of pomp and circumstance. Dressed in our best, Mother and I walked to the corner and took the bus to meet Gram, Grandma and some of the aunts at the Tea Room in the long gone Miller and Paine store in downtown Lincoln.

The ladies dressed to perfection with hats and gloves, I in my Sunday dress and shoes (no saddle oxfords that day).

I know someone ordered for me, soon I was treated to a sight I had never seen. A three layer sandwich, chicken, lettuce tomato on toasted bread.

It was an amazing day in my young eyes, a rite of passage into the secret world of adulthood perhaps, or just a get together with a relative from far away.