Her mother worked in the kitchen making gravy and boysenberry pies. Her father plowed the berry patch.
It was 1939, and America was just coming out of the Great Depression.
Sister Florence Hund, who was 19 at the time, answered the phones for Walter Knott. She remembers he was a nice guy, thin, round glasses. She worked weekends in the small office building next to the berry stand on Highway 39, before Buena Park became a city, before Knott’s Berry Place became Knott’s Berry Farm.
The phone rang constantly with people making reservations for dinner. That’s all she remembers doing – taking dinner reservations.
“They were famous for their chicken dinners,” Florence said. “People came from miles around for a chicken dinner.”
Thursday is Hund’s 95th birthday, and she’s got one request.
She’s going to Knott’s Berry Farm for lunch. She’s planning to order chicken.
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