Clarke County Democrat

Is this the Whistle Stop Cafe?

Lilly’s Sawmill Cafe could be straight out of ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’



Lilly’s Sawmill Cafe is not far from the railroad tracks. Below, Amber McNider.

Lilly’s Sawmill Cafe is not far from the railroad tracks. Below, Amber McNider.

Living in Northport, Alabama, Randall and I don’t get to visit his hometown of Fulton very often, but on Saturday Sept. 18 we did just that. After stopping by “Black Belt Treasures” in Camden to drop off some of my books “Fulton Tales,” we headed to Midway Cemetery and then on to Memory Gardens Cemetery in Thomasville to place fall flowers.

A leisurely drive through Grove Hill found us touring familiar places. The evening wore on and suppertime, as they call it in Clarke County, came a calling. We headed to Fulton and Lilly’s Sawmill Cafe. As our car moved into the center of town, I could see Lilly’s Cafe sitting near the railroad tracks.

Knowing it was the only restaurant for miles around reminded me of the Whistle Stop Cafe made famous in the movie “Fried Green Tomatoes.” When we moved through the double doors, we were greeted by a warm smile from Amber McNider the manager. Lilly, the threeyear old that the restaurant is named for, was prancing around in her pink and white apron ready to take our orders. Joe and Phillip were busy on the grill while Carolyn McNider, Amber’s mother moved from one table to the other and throughout the room was familiar Fulton faces. It was our good fortune to share a table with Kay and Danny Harrison with whom we shared good food and conversation.

 

 

Soon Barbara Morgan came through the door with her daughter Kathy; her grandchildren; and her son-n-law Mike Norris, who just happens to be the mayor. I had to tell them how great I thought Lilly’s Sawmill Cafe is for the community. “Yes,” Mike said, “it brings people together that you don’t usually see.”

Danny added, “We have a prayer meeting at Liberty Baptist on Tuesdays at 5 a.m. and afterwards we come over here to Lilly’s for breakfast. There’s nothing like seeing the sun come up over Scotch’s mill.”

We enjoyed the fellowship and food and soon it was time for desert. Earlier I’d spied three beautiful cakes sitting on the counter and checked them out. Lillian Beck, Amber’s sister, had said, “Debbie Davis made the cakes and they taste even better than they look.”

Of course I couldn’t choose between them so with a sample plate of German chocolate, Lemon crème, and coconut cake in front of us, Randall and I began devouring the light delicious treats.

With his mouth half full Randall said, “You know I dated Debbie when I was a teenager here in Fulton, and if I had known she could cook like this I might not have made it to Tuscaloosa.” To which I replied, “In that case, instead of “Fulton Tales” I might be writing “Jackson Recollections, Thomasville Stories, or even Coffeeville Yarns.”

Later as we walked out into the night, I was captivated by the lights glowing inside the sawmill and thought how we’d had such a good visit with our friends in Fulton, Alabama.

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