I see that another restaurant in Havasu is closing, with Northside Grill being the latest. Over the years, this has been quite common for various reasons. Rents can increase, or owners are ready to retire with no one coming along to take things over. Sadly, in the case of Scotty’s Broasted Kitchen, Scotty passed away, and the family chose to close the business.
I’m told by former owners that starting a restaurant or café is one of the toughest new businesses to enter. This is because it requires owners to be there before opening and after closing, and having to know all facets of the operation, from dishwashing to cooking.
These long hours go along with managing high food and labor costs, thin profit margins, changing customer demand, constant employee turnover, food spoilage and waste, strict health and safety standards, and intense competition, all while making sure customers receive quality food, fast service, and a positive experience every time they visit.
Owning and operating a restaurant is widely recognized as an incredibly high-stress profession. Chronic stress, poor sleep, and the physical demands of the industry put many owners at a higher risk for cardiovascular disease, gastrointestinal issues, and mental health struggles like anxiety and burnout.
I almost entered the restaurant business here in town without knowing a thing about any of the above. My background was in automotive, and there’s a big difference between turning wrenches and working in food service. My idea would’ve still been successful mainly because I had a unique theme.
In 1991, Joleen and I purchased the old Lake Havasu City Police Department building from the owner. The police had moved out, and the building was unoccupied, yet it still had jail cells and a maze of rooms and cubicles. I had two ideas for it: first, a laundromat, with my ultimate plan being to open the Jailhouse Café.
Our two children were still in school in Anchorage, and my wife was working, so I asked for a vote after we prayed about things on whether we should make the move then. It was three to one that the family stayed put until the kids graduated.
Needing some revenue from the old building, I begrudgingly stripped it with the help of Ron Claspill and others, turning square footage into leasable commercial space. My Jailhouse Café idea vanished with the removal of the heavy bars. I believe that Dub Campbell might’ve ended up with the doors. An original brass key on a large loop was given to the LHPD for their memorabilia collection.
It’s probably for the best I didn’t go into business, because I eventually found out I don’t like stress. Owning a café, undoubtedly, would create a ton of it. I was perfectly happy just dabbling in real estate, but even that didn’t turn my crank as it once did. This was about the time I started writing, and I found it quite stress-relieving, almost as much as working on projects in the garage.
I’d love to see a Jailhouse Café in Lake Havasu City, and perhaps one day that’ll become a reality. It needs to be in a freestanding building, like our old one at 296 London Bridge Road, which is now occupied by a pawn shop and hair salon. We sold that property after I tired of managing things.
Authentic jail cells could easily be constructed using round wood dowels. I know that’s possible because if you look closely at jail scenes in old westerns, most of them, if not all, are made of wood.
For my café, I already had the premier breakfast named. It’d be called ‘The Sheriff’s Special’ with a plate full of vittles as Granny liked to call them. Longtime viewers of “The Beverly Hillbillies” will know what I’m talking about.
Pigs in a blanket would also be on the menu because that was one of my favorites from Leroy’s Pancake House in Anchorage. This fare consisted of three sausage links wrapped in a large pancake. It was delicious.
I never got my dream off the ground, but still think of it each time I drive down Highway 95 and see that old building. Writers are perhaps bigger dreamers than anyone, and to me, that thought alone is still very satisfying.
One of my biggest heroes is a man named Colonel Norman Vaughan. Colonel Vaughan was on the Antarctic mission to the North Pole with Admiral Richard Byrd. He climbed a mountain named after him in his late 90s.
Norman gave a group of us at a book signing the following advice: “Dream big and dare to fail!” I suppose I did on this venture, but in the big scheme of things, where having time to write is concerned, failing might’ve been the best thing to ever happen to me from a health perspective!
I like to write junk... 