Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, August 21, 1994 TAG: 9408220036
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-10 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: BY CHRIS COLSTON SPECIAL TO THE ROANOKE TIMES & WORLD-NEWS
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Long
If you bought a new automobile when the Carol Lee Donut Shop first opened 25 years ago, that car - if it's still running - has now passed the ``jalopy'' stage and entered the realm of ``classic.''
That's how long the aroma of fresh doughnuts has drifted into the downtown Blacksburg air. Like the brick-and-iron-gated wall that lines one side of College Avenue, it's a rare constant on an oft-changing street.
Now, escalating rent and diminishing walk-by business may force the shop and its sweet smells elsewhere, says owner Norman Kidd.
That would leave a hole in Blacksburg's downtown ambiance, because Carol Lee has ``the best doughnuts in the world,'' according to its regular customers.
The shop's turquoise tabletops and padded orange seats provide its patrons with an early morning haven: a place to sip coffee, nibble on a Bavarian creme, discuss the day's hot topics and banter with their cronies.
``I always thought this place was the pulse of the New River Valley,'' says electrical engineer Harris Sizemore, a 10-year customer. ``Politicians, bankers and common folks come in, but you'd never know who they were. Here, they're incognito.''
Retired mail carrier William ``Cheese'' Wohlford has been coming to the shop since Kidd opened it in May 1969.
``I just come here for the coffee,'' he says. ``Sometimes Norman runs me off and I'll take a box of doughnuts home. I just tell 'em to throw a bunch in; they're all good, so it doesn't matter what kind they are.''
Lenny Sutton, who happens to be Kidd's daughter, has been involved with the business since its inception and has a good idea why people keep coming back.
``It's very relaxed here,'' she says. ``If you can't pay us today, you can pay us tomorrow. We'll have customers come to the cash register with a bag and say they have two doughnuts. We don't look; we take their word for it. We show trust, and people appreciate that.''
The doughnut shop - ``It's spelled `doughnut' in the phone book, but D-O-N-U-T fit on the sign better,'' Sutton said - was first known as ``Spudnuts,'' after a company that made the doughnut mix.
That company had trouble filling Kidd's orders, so in 1971 he changed to a mix called ``Carol Lee.'' He changed the name of the shop, too.
``Everybody thinks my name is Carol Lee,'' says Sutton, who, as store manager, has braved ice storms, blizzards, wind and rain to be at the shop at 5 a.m. each morning. ``I guess I'm a little like the mailman,'' she says.
Sutton commands a kitchen filled with ancient - yet efficient - equipment. A dough mixer about the size of an NBA shooting guard stands in one corner, near a window. But what dominates the cramped quarters is the actual doughnut-making machine, a Century 100 model that's as old as the store itself.
It's a sight to see the machinery in action, first punching holes in the dough, then dropping the treats on a conveyor belt, where they're sent through a 97-degree proofer, then deep-fried and topped with icing. From beginning to end, it takes an hour and a half to make a batch (35 dozen). Sutton will make three to four batches a day - eight or nine on a busy morning.
``I especially like the low-calorie doughnuts,'' Sizemore says with a grin. ``You know, the ones with the holes in the middle.''
These delicacies are anything but diet food. Still, when they come fresh out of the fryer, they're hard to resist.
``Dad will come in and take a few doughnuts off the conveyor belt while they're still hot,'' Sutton says. ``I'll say, `What do you think you're doing?' and he'll say, `Quality control.'''
An exhaust fan sends the heat from the fryer out onto College Avenue, which has brought more than one passer-by in off the street. But that walk-by traffic has dwindled in recent years.
``[Blacksburg Transit] has affected us,'' Kidd says. ``The off-campus students don't cut through downtown as much; now they take the bus. And the university has built more fast-food places on campus. The kids can eat breakfast there instead.''
Rent in any downtown area - whether it's Manhattan or Blacksburg - is going to be pricey. And then there's the parking problem.
``Sometimes it's hard to find a space,'' Sutton says. ``And you always run the risk of getting a $10 parking ticket.''
So they're considering a move. ``Dad also owns Carol Lee Cakes on [1414] North Main Street, so we may have to move there,'' Sutton says. ``We don't know what we're going to do. It's up in the air.''
Until then, the regulars will continue to gather in this spot, smack dab in the middle of downtown.
If the store relocates, it certainly wouldn't be the first College Avenue business to close or change ownership.
The Lyric Theatre next door hasn't shown movies since 1991; the upstairs space now occupied by Hoagie World used to be a knickknacks store called DaVinci's Attic; stereo equipment once sat stacked for sale on Subway's floor. And what longtime Blacksburgian can forget Little Doc's Drugstore? Today the drugstore is an eatery.
But, at least for now, Carol Lee's aroma endures.
And unlike your jalopy, its doughnut machine is still running.
Memo: ***CORRECTION***