Plan to Demolish Hamburger Stand Gets Chili Reception From Regulars

In 1956, John Kent ventured out to downtown Chatsworth--which was little more than a train depot--and opened a bright yellow hamburger and hot dog stand on the partially paved, two-lane, eucalyptus-lined street that was Devonshire Boulevard.

With a clear view of the Santa Susana Mountains, a hitching post in back and homemade root beer from a secret recipe, the Munch Box quickly became a popular gathering spot for hands from nearby ranches, and for such celebrities as Debbie Reynolds, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.

“It was just a little farm town,” Kent recalled in a recent interview. “I went out there to pioneer.”

The hitching post is now gone, the view of the mountains is partially obstructed, and nearby mini-malls proffer every type of food imaginable. But a developer’s plan to tear down the Munch Box and replace it with a mini-mall and office building has outraged faithful patrons, who say the stand is as important as a community hub now as it was years ago.

They have organized the Save the Munch Box Committee. With the help of area high school students, the group recently gathered 1,500 signatures on a petition asking Los Angeles planning officials not to grant the zone change that developer George Moss--who acquired the land last year from Southern Pacific Railroad--needs before construction can begin.

“It’s the only thing left of old Chatsworth,” said Jamie Aldershof, the committee organizer, who visits the restaurant regularly with her family. “It’s a landmark. Everybody in the area knows about it.”

Even if the petition drive fails and the commissioners grant the zone change, Aldershof said she plans to continue fighting.

“I don’t see why this one little corner of Chatsworth can’t be saved, when the community is obviously not in favor of bulldozing this stand,” she said.

In an era of impersonal chain restaurants, Aldershof said, the Munch Box is an important remnant of bygone days, when restaurant owners greeted patrons by name.

Kent personally tended the stand until he retired in 1986. His nephew, Edward (Buck) Barker, now runs the operation.

“Half the people that go there, go there just to see him,” Aldershof said of Barker, who she said is an active member of the community and sponsors a local baseball team. “He knows everybody and everybody knows him. He’s very supportive of everything that goes on around here.”

Kent, now living in Las Vegas, said he is touched by the outpouring of support for his stand.

“I have very sad feelings that they want to tear it down,” he said. “So many people have loved that little place for so many years.”

Barker said he would like the Munch Box to remain in operation. But the battle to save it is best waged by the customers, he said.

“These people were here long before me,” he said. “It’s more like I am the caretaker of their lunch stand.”

On a recent weekday afternoon, well past the lunch hour, the Munch Box, a classic example of 1950s architecture, was hopping with activity.

Customers, ranging from high school students to laborers to professionals, who all profess to visit the stand at regular intervals, placed an unceasing flow of orders for hamburgers, hot dogs, chili and fries.

Barker bantered affectionately with his staff of high school students as they scurried about their duties.

“Here comes Uncle Lee,” one of the workers cried out, as an old pickup truck drew up to the curb.

“We’re all family here,” Barker explained.

Uncle Lee, stunt man and character actor Lee McLaughlin, strode up. A heavyset man in blue jeans and work boots, McLaughlin said he has been eating there since he moved to a Chatsworth ranch in the early 1960s.

“This is the spot where everybody collects. From the lowest on the totem pole to the biggest movie star, this is the place where everybody gets together,” he said. “If you lose this, you lose a landmark.”