Diner with motorcycle motif offers food, centennial tribute

CLEVELAND -- Wind your way through the showroom of Cleveland's South East Harley-Davidson dealership, past the sparkling Super Glides and the V-Rods and the Road Kings. Pass by the parts department with its racks and racks of foot pegs and fog lamps and fat boy fender trim.

Glance in the service area with its bays and lifts and mechanics at work. Cruise on through the leather jackets and riding chaps and skullcaps.

And there, in the center of this motorcycle Mecca, you'll find a surprise.

Pancakes!

Since 1990, the dealership has been home to the Harley Diner -- a full service breakfast and lunch stop frequented by bikers, businessmen and tourists alike.

In the last 13 years, the restaurant has spilled out of the confines of its original diner car, grown around the corner and taken over a former storage area.

The corridor has been named the "Walk of Fame" -- a mini-museum of Harley-Davidson memorabilia, overflowing with vintage motorcycles, magazine clippings, and photos of Harley lovers, from old-time racers to celebrities the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Tina Turner.

The establishment's success has grown each year, despite no outdoor signs -- and this year it helps celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

The tribute extends from the Sportsters in the showroom and the Harley dog apparel in the General Store to items on the lunch menu: such as, the "Sturgis," an omelet, and the "Night Train," a grilled chicken breast sandwich.

With an order of "Dunlops" -- pancakes -- in one hand and a "5-Speed" -- eggs with bacon, fried potatoes and toast -- in the other, waitress Carol Lombardo-Keeley looks across the diner and down the corridor past the Elvis's 1975 Road King and the floor to ceiling Harley memorabilia.

"You get all this plus great food for a steal," she said. "Why wouldn't you want to come here?"

Dealership owner Paul Meyers, a renowned motorcycle racer himself, was looking for something to add to his dealership. In Rochester, N.H., he came across Leo's Diner, a 1946 Worchester Dining Car that had been closed for several years after the death of its owner. He bought the car and brought it to Ohio where mechanics brought the diner back to life.

Some shook their heads

Lead technician Greg Lucak remembers watching a team of men roll the diner into place "Fred Flintstone style," on huge logs laid side by side.

"Some people were shaking their heads, but I always thought this was a great idea," Lucak said. "It made this a destination and gave people a reason to come here."

Time has proven both Meyers and his lead technician right.

On any given Saturday, the diner is filled with Harley enthusiasts and families alike. Blind piano player Frank Fabian adds to the atmosphere with his musical repertoire.

In the main dining area, Bill Oreolt, in a black Harley T-shirt commemorating a 2001 York, Pa., road rally, sips coffee as he waits for his 2000 Standard to be serviced. The repair shop gives its customers a voucher for a free meal at the diner while they wait for their bikes.

Sitting behind Oreolt at a table made from the back end of a vintage Bel Air automobile, regulars Steven and Arlin Stavinsky and their three children enjoy their meal.

"We're not bikers," said Arlin, "so we didn't know what to expect when we first came here, but we fell in love with the place. The food's great, the atmosphere's fantastic, and they treat us like family."

Some on the café staff, managed by Karen Huebner, actually are family: mother-daughter pairs working side by side.

Cook Matt Melinis found his way to the café after being laid off from his union job as a heavy machinery operator. The 34-year-old Melinis got caught up in the Harley mystique when he began making belt buckles for riders in junior high.

"I've owned six Harleys over the years, but I don't have one now," he said with a wry smile. "Now I have four kids... but someday... ."

No conflict of interest

Across the lunch counter, Neil Cole and his brother Richard sit in the diner car enjoying lunch, just as they have at least once a week for the last nine years. Little Eva sings the classic "Locomotion" from the jukebox at their table.

The brothers are both salesmen. Neil sells Honda motorcycles. Richard sells Kawasakis and Yamahas. They see no conflict of interest as they dig into burgers and fries in the midst of the Harley crowd.

"This place has been a magnet for the motorcycle community for years," said Neil. "And the addition of the restaurant just cemented that."