Yesterday morning I was driving up Liberty on my way to work when I looked to my right and saw a sight that yanked hard on my heart strings. Next to the creek that runs south of downtown, was a bulldozer tearing down one of my favorite places in Salem. It was called the Tudor Rose, an English Tea Room, and I have been going there regularly for most of my 20’s. It’s true, the restaraunt closed some time ago, but still… To see them tearing it down, ripping apart some of my favorite memories to no more than a rubble heap, was more than I could take. While stopped at the light, I looked at the far wall still covered with the pretty wallpaper exposed for the world to see like a naked woman standing on the street, and my eyes pooled with tears.
Shortly after moving back to Salem, I worked nearby and would often go there for lunch. It was nice to go to a place so warm and friendly when I was stressed. The birthday when my mother gave me my sewing basket full of sewing what-nots was also celebrated there. Then, for years, my friend Carol and I would go there for lunch after she finished teaching and we would talk the afternoon away. These last few years, Stacey and I went there several times as well. In fact, the poem, “Smile-Maker”, from the second book was written for the time Stacey and I had tea there.
The shop was a family business, I saw their children grow and their grandmother and I would often have great conversations when I came in. They even had the British newspaper for sale! Walking back to the tea room, I would be greeted by Roxanne, a special lady I would call a friend. Knowing her for years, we knew what was going on in each other’s lives, and I’d pray for her. I still do. She would smile at me and ask, “The usual?” “Yes please!”. The only thing to choose was which soup I wanted. (The usuaul was their cucumber sandwhich with tomatoes and cream cheese. It came with chips and a pickle. They also had great Shepherds Pie and banger in a bun.) The food was affordable and tasty. The china was from England and they had pictures of kings and queens around the walls. I could identify most of them. Lining the top of the walls were knitted hot pads of all types and colors. The windows overlooked the creek and I spent many hours there writing in my journal. They even had cute little spoons for your tea and little tongs for the sugar cubes. Oh, and don’t even get me started on their scones with clotted cream. YUM YUM! I love England and Ireland and it was my place to connect with that.
So I sit here writing heart-broken. I loved that place and I loved the people who were at it. One April 1st I saw a sign on the front door that they were tearing the place down and putting in a parking structure. I was so mad! I saw Roxanne and violently protested, they were taking away my favorite restaraunt! Roxanne just looked at me and asked, “Sarah, what day is it?” I thought about that for a minute and quietly replied, “Oh. That’s not funny!”
So after I passed by, I managed to hold the tears in through morning traffic but as I walked from where I park to the building where I work, I cried. When Debbie said, “Good morning!”, I protested the “good” and when she asked me why, I wept again. She put her arm around me and comforted me which helped then, but I’m still upset. It was a beautiful place and I loved being there. You can’t take that away without pulling out some tears along with it. Grrr… All I have to say, is that if you put a parking lot into that space, I may take up the office of oficial tagger and destoyer of public property. It won’t bring the Tudor Rose back, but at least it will be remembered. Thank you for the beautiful memories. (And Roxanne, wherever you may be, I still think of you and lift you up in prayer.)
Smile-Maker
Tiny spoons stir
little amber waves
as the pot is poured
into cheerful hearts
thirsty for
smiles exchanged
over steaming cups of tea,
the honey swirling down below
amidst the depth of conversation
forming a cherished sweet sip,
a warmth to be savored,
laughter to be shared
along with the scones
dripping with English jam
and clotted cream
edged with English lace.
What a gift of life to hold
like flowered tea-cups in your hand,
knowing you will think of this,
and smile once again.
Yesterday morning I was driving up Liberty on my way to work when I looked to my right and saw a sight that yanked hard on my heart strings. Next to the creek that runs south of downtown, was a bulldozer tearing down one of my favorite places in Salem. It was called the Tudor Rose, an English Tea Room, and I have been going there regularly for most of my 20’s. It’s true, the restaraunt closed some time ago, but still… To see them tearing it down, ripping apart some of my favorite memories to no more than a rubble heap, was more than I could take. While stopped at the light, I looked at the far wall still covered with the pretty wallpaper exposed for the world to see like a naked woman standing on the street, and my eyes pooled with tears.
Thank you for this.
I, too, loved Tudor Rose, snd visited frequently with a dear educator-friend from Canby.
Thank you for your poem, the memories, and your respectful reverence.
“They paved Paradise, . . . ” 💔🥀
Man, I’m visiting Salem, where I was raised after almost 10 years. I live in NYC. My sister and I aren’t as close as we used to be and I’d really like to meet up with her when I visit. I remembered how we used to have tea parties when we were little. With sugars cubes and ceramic tea pots and lil cups. The whole deal. I remember being brought here once (when young and not a fan bc yet to have acquired adult taste lol. Where were the chicken nuggies) but I thought it’d be cool to go here. Really remembering past times and creating new ones. So when I typed Tudor Rose into google maps and nothing popped up, I had an idea but really realizing it’s gone and this well written article really gave a tank at my heart strings too.
I’m sure we will find somewhere else, but yeah idk. Just felt the need to vent. Here’s to cultivating new memories and relationships in new settings.
I do really wish I could experience that place as an adult. I vaguely remember it, but I do remember the aesthetic and atmosphere and I can’t imagine finding something like that now. And again I live in NYC. Just couldn’t be the same.