A post-Christmas trip to my old hometown of La Grande reminded me that life is certainly different in Astoria, even though the two cities have a lot of similarities.

Granted, it’s been a while since I actually lived in La Grande, but the many crosstown drives between grandparents’ houses on this trip didn’t offer any evidence that things have changed much. Like Astoria, La Grande has one main street where the vast majority of the small retailers ply their wares. The Granada movie theater has been there forever, along with Claudson’s Sewing & Spa and La Grande Stereo & Music. In the rest of its store windows are half-hearted, weary-looking displays that seem to shout to me, “Don’t bother coming into this store – it’ll be gone by the next time you’re in town anyway.”

Equally depressing is the lack of places to eat. In Astoria, I can rattle off six full-service restaurants just on Commercial Street between the post office and the Custard King, plus nine or so more along side streets or within walking distance. And every one of them is a local institution, offering something you can’t get anywhere else.

By contrast, I can think of only three restaurants in La Grande worthy of comparing to any of ours. 10 Depot Street was the first “fine dining” to hit the Grande Ronde Valley, and has found enough sophisticated palates there to stay in business. Foley Station also wins with the same crowd there who frequent the Silver Salmon Grille here.

But my favorite place to eat in La Grande is Hought’s 24 Flavors. Husband and wife Clair and Helen Hought opened the ice cream shop and burger joint in 1951, in an extended garage addition to their little yellow house on the corner of Cedar Street and Adams Avenue, where you can’t miss it as you come into town off I-84. We kids would stop in there on our walk back from the city swimming pool every day in the summer. Mr. Hought knew us all and didn’t sweat it if we were a nickel short for our ice cream cone. He grilled up a delicacy called a “Some Burger” whose equal I have never yet tasted.

He closed the diner right before I moved away to college. For two decades, the first sight of town when I’d come home for a visit was the sad image of Hought’s boarded up and peeling away.

Amazingly, in 2006, an entrepreneur whose name I wish I knew purchased the home and attached business, took down the yellowed newspapers covering the windows and fired the grill back up. We’ve made it a point to visit several times since then. Somehow, the Some Burgers just aren’t quite the same as when Mr. Hought was flipping the patties, but the memories sure are great.