I showed up in Spokane’s South Perry area with a growling stomach and a childhood memory that kept tugging at me, the kind that makes you chase a feeling as much as a flavor.
When the neon sign for Dick’s Hamburgers finally flickered into view on East Third Avenue, it felt like stumbling onto the bookmark in my own story.
The line curled down the block, but the energy stayed light, friendly, and fast-moving, almost as if the city itself was winking and saying you arrived right on time…