Frisch’s Big Boy restaurants have been in the news quite a bit recently. In fact, when I sat down to write this article yesterday, a pointer to this photo essay was waiting in my email. It seems likely that the essay, like this article and my Friday outing, was inspired by not particularly cheerful reports such as this one from a few weeks ago. It was that article and other news of restaurant closings that prompted me to finally check out the museum that opened in 2018 inside Frisch’s Mainliner.
The Mainliner, Cincinnati’s first year-round drive-in, opened in 1942 and was named for an airplane. Several sources, including the Mainliner’s own signage, identify that airplane as a tri-motor but I think not. The plane that those sources are almost certainly referring to is the Ford Trimotor which was produced from 1922 to 1933. Boeing’s DC-3, which United Air Lines actually called the Mainliner when launched in 1937, would have been the most well-known passenger plane when the restaurant opened. The plane on the iconic Mainliner sign certainly looks a lot more like a DC-3 than a Ford Trimotor, and, despite the nose being a little extra pointy, I’m not aware of it ever having more than two propellers. At present it has none. I do, however, have a short video of the sign “at speed” from a few years ago. I’m sure there are more and better videos online.
The Mainliner was remodeled when the museum went in and has the latest generation of the Big Boy statue standing by the door. There are pictures here and here of previous generations on display a few miles away at the American Sign Museum. A cool mural greets customers right inside that door.
I sat at the counter and placed my order before walking over to the museum area. Only then did I realize that it contained what appeared to be some quite usable classic seating areas. There were people at one of the museum tables when I left.
In addition to the throwback seating, there are several signs and cabinets filled with artifacts in the museum. Among the artifacts was a reminder that once upon a time people might look for something to help them “dial the right number every time”.
I was probably still using a dial telephone the last time I had a Big Boy but it seemed the right thing to order today. Has corporate ownership brought a decline in quality that others say they see? Maybe, but maybe not. The sandwich was pretty much as I remember it although my memories aren’t very recent. I sensed the same slight understaffing that I feel in just about every restaurant I visit these days. No more. No less.
As I wrote this, it occurred to me that Frisch’s has been in my life longer than any chain restaurant. Although it’s no longer there, a Frisch’s restaurant sat at the edge of the seat of my home county. It was the place where, maybe once a year, the band bus would stop on the way home from an away game. When my friends and I began driving, it marked one end of our Saturday night cruising route. An A&W rootbeer stand marked the other. When I got my first co-op job in college, a Frisch’s was just about the only place within walking distance for lunch. The one at right is within walking distance of my current home and I stopped there on my Saturday afternoon walk. Rather than a Big Boy statue, this door is guarded by one of the Mr. Redlegs sculptures that were placed around the area as part of the Cincinnati Reds 150th Anniversary Celebration in 2019. Inside, a localized (Mason hosts the Cincinnati Open ATP Tournament) mural hangs on the wall. A big reason that I had not had a Big Boy in so long was not that I never patronize Frisch’s but that when I do I almost always have a fish sandwich. On Saturday I reverted to form.
I’m certainly no fan of corporations taking over privately held businesses. Maybe it was a decline in quality or some accountant’s idea of improved efficiency that led to those closures. Personally though, I’m more concerned about those missing props on the Mainliner sign.
When I wrote about 
