Chamblee54

The 57th Fighter Group Restaurant has been behind Peachtree Dekalb Airport for a while. The official site says it opened in 1985, but PG seems to remember eating there in 1982. What is not in doubt is that it was closed for a while, then bought by Pat Epps, from the oldest aviation family in Georgia. The building needed extensive work, but is back, looking much like it did before.
Another mystery is whether the building went up fresh in the eighties, or was a makeover of an existing building. PDK was a World War I boot camp, Camp Carroll. There are lots of leftover facilities from that effort. The idea is to look like a bombed out European farm house from World War II. The decor is a cross between Bennigans and the History Channel. Flea market merchandise is side by side with pictures of fighting men. Tapes from that era sometimes play on the PA system. ( PG thinks the WW2 theme is a bit tiresome, but that just one of his many opinions.)
PG reckons he has been to 57th a hundred times or so over the years. Many of these have been with the Atlanta Tall Club, formerly known as the Atlanta Sky Hi Club. A “social club for Tall people”, “the club” has been having friday night happy hour parties at 57th for at least twenty years. They usually meet either on the patio outside, or in the disco inside.
The concept of a neighborhood dance hall, like the 57th, is surprisingly unique in Atlanta. While the music is never “cutting edge”, there were usually at least one or two songs for everyone. You could see the chorus line of women for “Electric Slide” or “It’s Raining Men”. The dreaded “Macarena” was a harmless, fun song the first time anyone heard it, and saw people doing that dance to it.
57th is a bar, alcohol is sold and consumed, and you see some strange behavior. Office groups will go for a drink at happy hour, and at 11 o’clock are falling over each other on the dance floor. Exotic dancers from the clubs downtown ( and one nearby on Buford Hiway) will bring “dates” to 57th, often dancing rings around the confused looking older men.
The word is that the food is pretty good these days at 57th. This has not always been the case. It is a theme restaurant, with a patio beside the runway, and a cargo carrier full of atmosphere. The food can live up to this, but sometimes does not. PG remembers stopping for a happy hour buffet in 1988. There were these english muffins, with tomato sauce and melted cheese, that were supposed to be little pizzas. PG thought it was the worst food he had ever tasted.
So Pat Epps wanted to have the 57th open again, and he put his money where his dreams are. PG wishes him good luck, and thinks it is a mighty fine thing to do. A place the size of 57th probably has a killer overhead, and can only count on a large dance hall crowd on Friday and Saturday. The restaurant business is a tough way to make money. The 57th is an asset to the neighborhood, which can only wish it well.