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EDEN - In 1935, when Pete and Jimmy Chandler opened Chandler Drug on Washington Street, you could get pills and elixirs on one side of the shop and shakes, sodas and sandwiches on the other.

Back then, soda fountains and drugstores went together just as Coca-Cola and cherry syrup did.

In 1968, after Pete Chandler died, Russ Mitchell bought the drugstore. The name changed to Mitchell's Discount Drugs, but the soda fountain stayed.

It all ended two weeks ago when the soda fountain, now known as The Sandwich Shop, closed, ending a tradition that's been around since Babe Ruth hit his last home run.

If some customers have their way, however, the lunch counter and current owner Kim Alverson won't be gone for long.

But first, the beginning of the end: Earlier this year, Mitchell's Discount Drugs in the Olde Leaksville section of Eden closed when the business was consolidated at its Morgan Road store.

The Mitchell family sold the Washington Street building, but they hoped that Alverson, who leased the space inside the drugstore for The Sandwich Shop, could keep her small lunch counter open.

The building's new owner, Marty Wall, had hoped so, too. Wall plans to move his business, House of Health, from across the street into the vacant space.

But when he started renovating the building, he found that the plumbing repairs he'd need to keep The Sandwich Shop open were too costly.

It looked to be the end for Alverson, who has worked at the shop for 13 years and owned it for eight.

That didn't sit well with Carl Bateman and Wayne Rakestraw. They have eaten lunch together at the diner for decades.

"It's just like going to mom's house for lunch," Bateman said. "Everybody knows everybody in there."

In the weeks before Alverson closed, the two posted a sign at the shop: "Keep Kim Here."

They asked people to pony up $100 to help Alverson relocate the soda fountain and eatery to a nearby location.

Wall pitched in, saying Alverson could take the old soda fountain and stools with her if she can find a new spot.

So far, there are 80 names on the "Keep Kim Here" list, and it's growing.

Molly Wright was No. 6.

Growing up, Wright, 41, lived a few blocks from the shop. She and her brothers, Will and Hoke Flynt, would slip away from their Hamilton Street home, walk to the drugstore, set themselves on the spinning stools at the counter and order up a round of cherry smashes.

They'd put it all on their dad's tab.

"I grew up on the bar stools in there," Wright said.

Alverson wasn't behind the counter then, but she's heard the stories. And she's made plenty of cherry smash drinks for customers like Wright, who bring their own children in for a nostalgic whirl on the stools and a sugary sip of the house specialty.

Wright often joined her dad, Tommy Flynt, for breakfast at The Sandwich Shop, where a group of regulars gathered for an "Ernie Special": a bacon and egg sandwich topped with lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise for $3.09. Alverson named the sandwich for Ernie Hunter because he ordered it every day.

Alverson would get to the shop about 8 a.m. Usually, the pharmacy would already be open, and one of her "regulars" would have started the coffee. Sometimes the bacon would be sizzling, too.

She had one employee. Terri Penn waited on customers, ran the cash register and helped in the kitchen.

Alverson knew the time of day by who was coming in the door.

"They were so regular that you worried about them if they didn't show up," she said.

There were no menus. The items were on a board over the counter. The specials were the same each week, and Thursday's was meatloaf.

"We'd pack them in," Alverson said. In fact, people would phone as early as Monday to reserve their meatloaf plate for Thursday. It always sold out.

But even more so, Alverson was known for her chicken salad. She could go through 5 pounds a day.

Thirty-two people could sit in the diner.

"It would fill up for lunch twice," she said, and she did a lot of take-out orders.

And she'd make one delivery, taking a plate to Klyce Chandler a few blocks away. It was Chandler's husband, Pete, who opened the drugstore in 1935. She's 96.

When Alverson closed down at 4 p.m., she'd leave the coffee pot on, and she never pulled the chain across the entryway that closed her space off from the pharmacy. The next morning, she'd find money on the counter, left by anyone who'd helped themselves to a cup.

"My customers are the best," Alverson said.

When she finds a new place, she plans to put the names of all the people who invested money in a pot. Once she gets on her feet, she'll draw a name out each month and repay them.

"I told everyone on my last day that they'd save me a whole lot of tears if they wouldn't say goodbye," she said. "I just wanted them to tell me they'll see me later."

At least 80 people are banking that they will.

Contact Myla Barnhardt at 627-4881, Ext. 116, or myla.barnhardt@news-record.com