I’ve got two Junior stories. The first one dates back maybe 20 years ago. Not quite that long ago, but it was over 15 years. When he owned hundreds of Wendy’s, he would randomly work the drive-thru at various locations. The shop that is now an Indian restaurant off Hurstbourne, previously an Italian restaurant, and before that a Wendy’s, I zipped through to get my usual, a Dave’s Double with cheese, and Junior handed me my bag of food. I fanboyed out. I was like “Hey, it’s Junior Bridgeman,” rather enthusiastically. Junior seemed to have gotten a kick out of it. He smiled real big, leaned out the window, and said “get outta here. There are people behind you.” I kid, he seemed really appreciative. Class guy. Maybe the classiest.
Second story: My wife used to be the membership director at The Jefferson Club. She was charged with recruiting Junior. Now, she’s not a salesperson, perse, so the pursuit wasn’t easy. But, Junior would take her calls. He declined, but the eventual charm of Mrs. CardX paid off. She said he ultimately joined because he felt bad for her, and that he was without question one of the nicest men she ever encountered.
RIP to an absolute great person.