In 1924, he established Gordon’s Place, a small candy and ice-cream shop located steps from the town’s bustling wharf where watermen hauled in oyster and blue crab from the Chesapeake Bay. The seafood boom placed Crisfield on the map, and over time, Gordon’s Confectionery (as it is now called) expanded into a full restaurant to cater to the O-dark-thirty schedules of the watermen.

Since then, other restaurants have sprung up in the area, but co-owners Kevin Evans and Doug “Cheeseburger” Nelson don’t feel pressure to change their nostalgic menu and atmosphere—not that anyone would let them.

Being among the last of the old-fashioned soda fountains, Gordon’s is aptly outfitted with a long countertop, red and black pleather swivel stools, and rows of squirt-bottle syrups that hearken back to the days before six-packs. I grab a seat at the counter and lean against the blue and yellow Formica, the edge of which is worn down by decades of patrons’ rubbing elbows, exposing varying colored layers from different eras. The layers are tangible evidence of Gordon’s history and anchor patrons to their own memories at Gordon’s.

“I swear the sodas taste the same now as they did then,” Ed Sterling recalls. “I remember coming here with my grandpa when I was a boy and reading comic books at the counter—it was brown then.”

As I eye the letter board for lunch options, Kevin spots a customer through the front picture windows and, without delay, begins to add sugar, cream, and coffee to a cup. The customer approaches the counter, and Kevin hands him the cup of coffee with no more than a nod of gratitude exchanged between them. My puzzlement is obvious.

Kevin shrugs and explains, “We have very predictable customers.”

And, according to everyone asked, Gordon’s also has the best coffee around.

“It’s our biggest seller!” announces Kevin of his coffee. “It’s Maxwell House, made strong with Crisfield water. We sell it all day long.”

As if Kevin can already read my ordering preference, he suggests I try a cheeseburger and Gordon’s famous and long-established drink, the Chocolate Zip. With the cheeseburger sizzling on the large stainless grill behind him, Kevin slurries milk, chocolate syrup, and crushed ice in a paper cup. While on paper the Zip is no more than cold chocolate milk, the mixture is tastier than plain old Nestle Quik, although I can’t explain why.

Secret ingredients aside, the Zip is a local favorite, much like Gordon’s Coke-and-spirits-of-ammonia concoction, which has long been revered as a remedy for headaches, nausea, and nervousness. Ordered regularly, this mixture doesn’t taste half bad as a medicine, but as a drink…let’s just say that Pepsi won’t be bottling it anytime soon.

As I nosh on a burger, doing my best to rub the countertop down to another decade, I scan the room, which is filled with a casual collection of vintage chairs and tables, cold cases that chill drinks and ice cream, and the original candy case, filled with chocolate bars. Several watermen—all of whom are drinking coffee—have settled into one of the booths and are gabbing about fishing, women, and more fishing.

Kevin gestures toward them and says, “Kenny, my father, really enjoyed the characters that came in here and wanted to document them, so he started a tradition about 50 years ago—he took pictures of the customers.”

From Kenny’s Kodak moments evolved an odd but well-loved tradition at Gordon’s. As the story goes, as customers passed away, Kenny sorted the pictures according to the subject’s “Alive” or “Dead” status, and maintained two El Producto cigar boxes that categorized his cast of characters.