From Dick Parsons:

I have been reading with interest the discusssion about Little Taverns. The Baltimore County Public Library Library has an image of the one at 25th and Greenmount, dated 1979.  We don't have one of the Little Tavern at 6414 Holabrid Avenue. I  think that I will send someone out to photograph it.  We do have an image of the Circle Drive-In at 535 Dundalk Avenue from the 1980's. You might pass the word on to Todd Holden and Cadet Third Class Matt  "Papa" Peck about the Greenmount Avenue image. If they are interested, please ask them to e.mail me at rparsons@bcpl.net . While the item is new to our holdings and not yet scanned, I will hurry up the process so that I can e.mail  them  a scan if they want one.     

Here's my original column, from 2003:

Little Tavern shops, burgers retain charm of nostalgia
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Published on Thursday, December 4, 2003
© 2003 The Baltimore Sun

   DURING A road trip down scenic Route 1 the other day, I looked up just long
enough to notice a familiar white building with a green roof and rusty neon
signs among the rug-remnant stores, old motels and car dealers in Laurel -- a
Little Tavern shop, neither vacant nor covered with graffiti.
   That was worth a U-turn.
   This Little Tavern was open for business.
   It had not been transformed into a Swedish bookstore.
   It had not been seized by a church group for Sunday meetings.
   Nor had it been spruced up with new awnings and turned into a sub shop.
   This Little Tavern appeared to be what it always was - the original
American hamburger joint where the waitress still calls you "Hon" and a sign
still suggests that you "Buy 'em by the bag." (Bag of 12 burgers now costs
$7.79.)
   Sherman, set the Wayback Machine to, say, 1963!
   Here we find dozens of Little Tavern shops throughout Maryland, from
Baltimore to Silver Spring. They all look about the same, too -- narrow
structures with faux-cottage fronts, white brick or white metal trimmed in red
or green, situated on odd-shaped lots, sometimes squeezed between larger
buildings like Monopoly houses.
   Inside, there's lots of stainless steel, but no grill. There's white tile
on the floor. There are a few stools for customers, and a takeout counter. A
sign above the work area says, "Please pay when served." College kids and
late-shift workers crowd the place at midnight. Guys who suffered heavy losses
at the racetrack stop in for a cheap supper. The windows are coated in steam
on a winter night.
   Little Tavern shops sprouted out of the Depression and represented the
first phase of fast food in mid-20th century America. Customers could count on
finding them -- and other chain restaurants, White Castle and White Tower --
when they traveled from city to city, and the burgers would taste the same
everywhere.
   There are thousands of baby boomers who remember visiting these places and
eating the half-dollar-size Little Tavern hamburgers, steamy-warm inside a
soft roll, with a pickle and a sprinkling of onion.
   Little Taverns slowly disappeared, or new owners transformed them to suit
their needs. You can still find some around Baltimore, in various states of
transformation, and there are two still open for business here -- one on
Eastern Avenue, another on Holabird Avenue. There's a seasonal Little Tavern
in Ocean City.
   But only one, the Little Tavern on Route 1 in Laurel, apparently sticks to
the simple formula that made LT famous to begin with -- hamburgers ready to
eat, cheap and genuine American comfort food.
   "We wanted to keep what the founding fathers established," says Alfred Roy,
who owns the two LTs in Baltimore and the one in Laurel, and speaks of the
establishment of Little Taverns in the 1920s the way some patriots speak of
the birth of the nation. "We're saving a piece of history."
   The historic authenticity of the Laurel eatery derives, in part, from the
fact that there is no deep fryer on the premises there. So you can't get
french fries, and the place never has that gag-greasy McDonald's smell. And
you won't find a waitress with plastic gloves fixing subs. There's no
Vegetarian Delight on the menu, no salads.
   It's just burgers. (OK, you can get a few other simple sandwiches, if you
insist upon it, and a cookie, or a doughnut, but not much else.)
   It's the burgers I saw being consumed in impressive quantities when I
stopped in for lunch twice this week. Working men in winter overalls, men from
vans with PVC pipe and ladders on their roofs, traveling salesmen in suits,
men in biker duds and full-body tattoos, local businessmen and senior citizens
for whom a stop at Little Tavern appeared to be daily ritual.
   "I want one burger with one extra pickle and extra onions," said a man who
had exact change for his snack in hand.
   Most people seemed to buy at least three burgers at a time -- for $1.99.
   "The biggest order I ever had was for 240 little burgers," says Carol
Mitchell, who runs the 24-hour shop during the day. "It was for a nostalgia
party, a '60s party ... .
   "I have customers from West Virginia, Virginia and Pennsylvania who go out
of their way to come here," says Mitchell, who has worked at the Laurel shop
for 12 years and called me "Hon," "Honey" and "Darlin'" interchangeably.
   Nostalgia without question is what drives some people to the Little Tavern.
That's part of the comfort you get from this indulgence - the idea that a
small, handmade hamburger can taste just as it did 20 or 30 or even 40 years
ago, the years having added no pretense, or even french fries.