It was in 1955, midway through the Eisenhower Years, when the notion took hold of Skippy Sack. By that time he’d spent several years at a Howard Johnson family restaurant, busing dishes, scraping gum off the undersides of tables, catching his share of cuts, scrapes and burns. He’d worked a second shift without pay for six weeks just to land the kitchen job and its $1.25-an-hour paycheck, a heady step up from the 67 cents an hour he’d earned as a dishwasher.Now, with his weekly take-home ...

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