Pancake House family celebrates 40 years of comfort food, comforting service

At the Pancake House, “same old, same old” is a compliment.

The venerable, family-owned cafe on California way turns 40years old Wednesday. Owners, employees and regulars will celebratethe day like the family they have become — eating familiar fare,sidestepping flowers and balloons, and feeling danged lucky to behanging on during an economic downturn that could have eaten themalive.

“We keep the food the same,” said second generation owner DanaMillard. “When we try something new, it doesn’t go over. … Wekeep the prices low. We watch our competitors. We haven’t tried tochange.”

She credits the restaurant’s good food and the “greatpersonalities” of her staff, while always harking back to hermother, Edith Klahn, who died in 1998. “She was a wonderful woman,”Dana said. “She became a Christian in 1978. Really, this place, andchurch, were her life. when I had my kids, they became herlife.”

She followed in her mother’s footsteps and eventually filled hershoes.

“I was 12 when my mom bought the place,” she said last week. “Igrew up here.”

The two would arrive at dawn and Dana would “sleep on the officefloor in front of the heater. Business was booming so I went backand forth to school in a taxi. she was really excited when Ifinally got my driver’s license.”

Her father, Dan Klahn, drove truck for a logging company beforehe died of lung cancer.

Dana, now 51, was named “Edana” after both parents (the name,now shortened, is pronounced “Danna.”)

She wended her way back to her roots, as she married, had twosons, divorced, and then married a guy she’d been kibitzing withfor years over tables and steaming plates. “It all fell intoplace,” Dana said.

“I’m not the owner,” Dave Millard quipped the other day. “I’mjust lucky to be married to her.”

The cafe was a world they shared — Dave used to come in forbreakfast every day with his dad, patriarch of Millard and SonsAuto Sales on Commerce.

Pastor Bob Giles officiated at the wedding in June, 1990.

Dave said he always knew why the business was successful. “Edithwas very good with people. Breakfast was so good — bacon, eggs andtoast, every morning.”

When the Klahns opened on Feb. 15, 1972, the renamed the place,which used to be the Pancake Palace. Its story goes back evenfurther, Dave said.

“There was a church on this spot clear back in the 1930s,” hesaid. “It’s on sacred ground.”

‘The real people’

Along with biscuits and gravy, Boyd’s coffee and buttermilkpancakes, tradition still packs ‘em in here. Parents and babies,burly laborers in coveralls, retirees with time to jaw at tablesthey sometimes share when it’s so busy the line snakes out thedoor.

Clark Hutcheson first came to the Pancake House in 1948, when itwas the Pancake Palace. “My favorite breakfast? Eggs Benedict,”Hutcheson said.

Giles, seated at the counter last week, recalled the first timehe ever ate here, 34 years ago this month. Longshoremen crowded inthe doorway as Giles, in his ministerial suit, snagged a lone stoolat this same counter.

“I said to the guy sitting next to me, ‘Is this place full allthe time?’

“He looked me up one side and down the other and shook his headyes. ‘This is where the (being Ital) real (end ital) people come,’he said.”

“The day begins here,” said retiree Maxine Hurd, who’s hadbreakfast here every weekday for 15 years with her husband, JimHurd.

The Hurds meet up with Ed and Stella Brusco, who’ve “been cominghere forever.” when their grandkids visit from San Diego, Stellasaid, “the first thing they ask is, ‘Are we going to the PancakeHouse?’ “

“The atmosphere seems a lot better here,” said a man named Tony,who was enjoying omelets with his wife, Rosa, and daughter Cyndy.the family moved to Longview from Texas, Tony said, and they feelthey can relax in this restaurant.

“Other places,” he said, “it’s like your mom don’t want you totalk.”

Bud Behrens, a retired insurance inspector who moved toCathlamet five years ago from Oxnard, Calif., said “I was born andraised in Southern California. You couldn’t pay me to go back.” Heeats here regularly, Behrens said, because “it’s like it was yearsago, before it got so hustle and bustle. the staff go out of theirway to be friendly, and the food is almost like home-cooked.”

The Pancake House is indeed like a house, or rather like a bigcottage kitchen in Stella or Castle Rock.

Paintings of rural scenes hang on the walls next to funnysayings.

“Hot Beer, Lousy Food, bad Service — Welcome.”

“Don’t Make Me Use my Crabby Mommy Powers.”

“Having a smoking section in a restaurant is like having apeeing section in a pool.”

The most famous is probably a blue-on-white needlepoint done bylongtime waitress Linda Hayden. she sewed the words of old-timerHarold Stone, now deceased, who once handed her a piece of paperwith these lines:

The Pancake House, our second home

Eat with friends and not alone

To eat at home is such a fuss

Come and eat with all of us

Winds of change

Although it seems as if nothing has changed, the restaurant hasweathered some storms.

Edith, who never remarried after Dan died in 1972, retired in1993. Dana took over, and in just a year, sent shock waves throughthe clientele. she didn’t mess with the recipes, the menu or thesuppliers, all of which remain the same today.

She rid the restaurant of ash trays.

“Both my parents died of lung cancer,” Dana said. “I’ve alwaysbeen anti-smoking.”

When she banned smoking at the Pancake House, “there was a biguproar,” she said. “A lot of people were mad at us. they said,‘You’re going to go broke.’ “

Didn’t happen. Families and non-smokers flocked to fill theempty seats.

“It completely changed our clientele,” Dave said. Dana added,”It increased our business, really.”

She felt better not just about her own health, but because “itwas good for our workers.”

Dana has added a “point-of-sale” computer program thatsimplifies orders, receipts and records. she leased the backparking lot from the Longshore Credit Union to ease the crunch inpeak hours.

Too many cars are no longer the biggest worry, however.

“A lot of Longshoremen are retired,” Dana said. “They don’t comein as much as they did.” Breakfast crowds peak in mid-morning now,more apt to be retirees and families than workers who used to fillup here before heading to jobs in the mills or the woods.

“Last year was the first year we really saw the bad economyhit,” she said. “If we raise the prices, it hurts the customers. Ifwe drop our labor costs, it hurts the employees.”

One gal retired after 20 years and they lost a cook to healthproblems. Dana met with the remaining staff to figure out how toride out the recession.

“The girls were real cooperative,” she said. “We cut down a fewhours; they’ve all been with me for many years, and they’re good atrotating. … We’ve found we can do the work with fewerpeople.”

Harder than the financial losses are customers they grieve.

“We’ve known these people for 30 years,” Dana said. “To havethem pass away …”

This winter, they mourned Carl Wingate, a retired teacher andsteady customer who “came in here in all kinds of get-ups,” theowner said. another customer has colon cancer.

Hayden, who has waited tables here for 39 years, can’t talkabout Wingate without crying. “He was our Number One,” she said,turning her head away.

She’s known her boss since Dana was 11, Hayden said, and viewsthe staff as team. “That’s the way it should be.” as for customers,the waitress stays in touch with an 86-year-old up in Rose Valleywho can’t make it in much anymore. “I call her, she calls me.”

Dana hopes one of her two adult sons will one day want to keepthe pancakes flipping, but she’s not sure. In the meantime, sheappreciates every generation of customers who have warmed up thesebooths.

Tyler Duscha, son of Longview Police Chief Jim Duscha, has beencoming here since he was a child and now brings his little girl,Alexis, who’s 3.

Brent Brookhart, 34, waited for his waffles, eggs and orangejuice last week with his music appreciation lesson spread out onthe table.

Brookhart is studying at lower Columbia College, he was justbaptized, and he’s in recovery, he said. He eats at the PancakeHouse at least once a week, surrounded by friends andnourishment.

“The food’s great, service is great, it’s got friendly peopleand a great atmosphere,” Brookhart said.

“The whole thing of it with this economy is that everybody isstruggling,” said Dave, Dana’s husband. “The reason the PancakeHouse is still here, really, is our good and faithfulcustomers.”

Pancake House family celebrates 40 years of comfort food, comforting service