I love Harry’s Place. My mom and dad used to live in Colchester back in the seventies. My mom got sad in the fall: there was no place to get a good hamburger when Harry’s closed for the season. Etta, Aunty and I came here for cheeseburgers with caramelized onions, salt and pepper.
We sat on a picnic table and watched the dogs (dogs) and dawgs (men and women in leather rolling up on motorcycles) as well as folks on the way home from the beach, families, and young couples like my mom and dad back in the day. Amazing as always.
The American Dream.