Over 25 years, this place is my daily ritual. My morning isn’t complete without scrolling through the projects, history, and the incredible exchange of knowledge that happens here. It’s more than a forum — it’s a brotherhood of builders, a family, and a collection of good stories. I’m ready to tackle a different type of project and this looks like the perfect spot for some help. Here’s a bit of backstory. My small town is pulled straight from a Norman Rockwell painting — a downtown listed on the National Register. We’ve got a neon-lit theater, a WPA-era post office, the old depot, a row of Victorian storefronts, and even an original truck dealership, even a few tourist. I’d already restored the old five-and-dime building, but something still felt missing. I’ve done my civic duty — volunteering on various boards and helping with community projects — but our downtown needed a true attraction. What we lacked was that vintage-style diner, the kind of place you’d make a road trip for. Not an East Coast stainless-steel trolley, but a genuine Midwestern spot — the heart of town kind of place. I’ve been fortunate in life, but none of my projects have ever come easy. It’s always been hard work, tight budgets, and a lot of persistence to make things happen. Still, I couldn’t just find a diner and bring it to town — not yet, anyway so the dream is mothballed. Fast-forward to the summer of 2023. Word gets to me about a structure uncovered during a demolition down in Winfield, Kansas — something that had been walled in and hidden for over 50 years. Curiosity got the best of me, and by the next morning I was on the road. What I found looked rough, but there was no mistaking it — a real-deal Valentine Diner, one of the early postwar models built right in Wichita, Kansas, by the Valentine Manufacturing Company. Back in the war years, Wichita “Rosie the Riveters” were cranking out planes, and the town could build just about anything in metal. Enter Arthur Valentine, who saw an opportunity to create small, affordable, sanitary diners that could be shipped anywhere in the country — prefab and ready to serve. Valentine hired then local designer Richard Ten Eyck — the same guy who later gave us the Beechcraft Bonanza, the Black & Decker, and the Vornado fan — to streamline his boxy prototypes into something modern and sleek. Those first few diners followed Ten Eyck’s design: smooth white panels, big windows, about eight stools, a simple grill line, and no bathroom — just pure postwar optimism in steel form. (Funny side note — Ten Eyck never got paid. He eventually settled the bill after spotting his drawings in a Valentine ad, talked into trading his invoice for one of Valentine’s experimental home bars.) One of those early designed diners is what they found hidden inside an condemned building in Winfield. The guy selling it had literally saved it from the scrap pile — pulled it aside while the rest of the building came down and spray-painted “SOLD” on the sides just to keep the scrappers away. The exterior looks rough: lots of nail holes from years of cover-ups, a few cuts and hacks here and there — but nothing rusted out, nothing beyond repair. What really surprised me was the inside. It’s completely intact and in remarkable shape. You go to a brand-new Dairy Queen, and the freezer door’s already beat to hell — but this one? Mint. Even the pie safe glass is still there. Nothing’s missing or destroyed; every stainless drawer is right where it should be. And then the kicker — Valentine’s own payment wall safe, still mounted in place. Beneath the layers of old paint, I found the stamp: Valentine Diner #662. Confirmed — one of the very early ’47 “Sandwich Shop” models, straight out of the Arthur Valentine Ten Eyck’s original drawings. The plan is to bring #622 back to life in my historic downtown — restored to its glory sitting on Main Street where it belongs; No Hobby Lobby, No Pink Elvis or Betty Boop*****… just the real deal with a few locals who have passion for burgers, people and history. Luckily, I found a large rollback service that could handle the load. The item weighs around 14,000 lbs, which qualifies as oversize. Our driver was kicked off the interstate and took a scenic route, turning a 3-hour 40-minute trip into 9 hours—but I paid by the job. My 40x60 shop barely fits the piece through the oversized doors. It dented some light fixtures and flattened the car dollies I had planned to use. I ended up using 4x4s, jacks, and machine skates to move it across the shop with two people—a total lifesaver. The past year and a half have been visually quiet, but this project required detailed planning and research. I also had to clear space by finishing other projects. Our goal is to open a vintage diner in a National Register historic district or an area active with a Main Street program. These locations often have relaxed regulations, plus benefits like tax credits, restoration grants, and operational funding. I considered making the project a nonprofit, but that proved too complicated. We’ve uncovered most of the building’s history. After consulting a Valentine enthusiast, it appears this structure is a strong candidate for the National Register as the building itself and example of architecture.
Let me be the first to say I love this and I will be following along. Very curious if you will add anything to it to expand the space, a bathroom at least seems like it'd be necessary if it'll actually be open to customers. And I know exactly what you mean by "No Hobby Lobby, No Pink Elvis or Betty Boop*****". My girlfriend and I refer to that as "Cafe 80's", a reference to Back to the Future II where they do a pretty good sendup of that.
Thanks! My first plan was to cut it up and expand—I realized I couldn’t make money serving just eight people at a time with a single little walk-up window. But after uncovering some of the history (I’ll try to post about it soon), I discovered that it may be the last untouched diner of this style. That made me rethink things. Instead, I’ve decided to add a small addition to the rear. I spoke with the county health department and planned an addition that’s slightly smaller, attached to the back. It will follow a similar design and shouldn’t detract from or harm the original structure. I'll try to get more posted soon
That's exactly what I would do, too. If you keep it all in the rear it won't really even be visible from the front, which is what you want, but you'll be able to have a bathroom and at least some storage if not a bit of food prep area without over-clogging up the limited space up front. It could be breezeway-attached even, if you really wanted the whole original building exposed. Either way though, it's the additions that preserved and saved this one, after all. That, and if you have enough parking space, maybe with a drive-in style awning, you can also serve people who are eating in their cars with the walk-up window. That'd be good for photo-ops too, which I'm sure would be popular. I'm very excited to see/hear more about this one.
I've been fortune enough to find some history - but not all of it. “Sandwich Shop” model was one of the first produced. Its rendering appeared in the earliest advertisements in the fall of 1947, promoting the unit for the 1948 season. However, this initial design had a significant flaw: the layout was awkward for two people to operate. The grill was positioned directly in the center—hardly ideal when two cooks are constantly bumping into each other. The second operator had to use a walk-up window on the right side, then cross between the cook and the counter to reach the prep and storage areas. This problem was quickly resolved in later versions by moving the grill to the side and adding a small walk-up window at the front. An exterior restroom was also added. Very few of the original models were produced, and this design change makes the surviving examples older than the later, more refined versions. This particular diner features a diamond-shaped window in its door. DinnerHunter.com discovered a top salesman’s sample briefcase from the company’s early years. Inside was a damaged photograph Hunter labeled “Unknown Diamond,” showing a diamond-door Sandwich Shop on the factory lot— It’s possible that this diner is that same display model. We know the diner originally operated in Wichita, Kansas, on what later became McConnell Air Force Base. It was then moved to Winfield, Kansas. Built: 1947 Possible factory display model: This could explain why its serial number predates later models. If it served as a demonstration unit, the number may not have been officially****igned until it was sold. Location history: Initially placed near the municipal airport by the Boeing plant Anyone in Wichita who wants to play history detective I'm at a loss on this part. In in 1951 that property became McConnell AFB. When the Air Force took over, several structures were mothballed. In 1968, McDonnell contractor Tom Cochran inquired about the mothballed buildings and purchased this one. He moved it to the south end of Winfield, Kansas. The diner operated briefly before a new rear structure was added, featuring a pit barbecue and smokehouse. The original diner was intended for walk-up service, but this idea was dropped, and operations shifted entirely to the new back addition. By 1969 or 1970, Cochran’s son returned from Vietnam. The front diner section was abandoned, and a larger structure was built off the rear, concealing most of the diner except for the door and two front windows. The back area became a lounge, disco, and BBQ restaurant, leaving the original diner sealed and forgotten inside. In 2023, the city moved to demolish the building. The original plans listed the diner name as “Cavalier.” There was a diner by that name in Wichita, but it burned down in the 1950s, so this structure cannot be the same one. Last year, two photos surfaced showing diners labeled “Cavalier.” Three were built in total—two with the early diamond-door design and one with the later layout (with the grill moved to the side). Both early models were reportedly part of the “Cavalier System” chain, with images placing them at locations in Texas.
Interesting that both of those Cavalier diners have the same window lettering and that kinda odd French fries signage on the front. I wonder how much of that stuff was provided with the kit?
I can smell the burgers and fries from here . I’m getting hungry. Glad you’re able to save a piece of history
I have seen a lot of really cool things on this forum, but hands down, this has got to be the very coolest thing I have seen!! Hat's off to you, and I will be excited to see the progress. Great reason for a road trip! Thanks for kicking it in.
At Kellogg KS where the turn is to go to the grain Elevator . There sets a small version of that one in a pasture. It’s being used for storage and a critter barn last time I was by there
If you ever pass that way let me know, I might need a pic or two - there is also a section on the KS historical website that tried to list all the remaining Valentines, if they update it would be a good addition. We traveled to Ellinwood KS last year just to photograph and measure the door handle on a similar early model - I need to reproduce one for mine.
Here's where we are today - Safety first, right? Valentine bragged about using Zololite in this building — apparently, it’s in the roof and even the base of some walls. It looks like fish scales or popcorn and was mostly used in older homes and attics out east. Then I started reading about it... and yeah, I kind of freaked out. The asbestos and Libby mine thing sent me down a rabbit hole. I ended up hiring a consultant for remediation advice (super awkward first call trying to explain this project), and we sent samples off to two labs. The funny part? He’s actually more worried about all the lead paint flaking off this place than the Zololite. The lab results came back negative for asbestos — trace particles, less than 1%, so it doesn’t qualify as asbestos under state or federal rules. Still… I’m not totally relaxed. Everything I’ve read says this stuff can contain the nastier asbestos fibers, so even a tiny chance makes me nervous. I talked to three remediation companies — one said the job was too small, and the other two basically said it doesn’t need removal. I’m kind of pissed because Ignorance really is bliss — how many people just shop-vac or sweep this stuff up without a second thought? After months of researching, calling, and stressing, I’ve finally got a plan: Leave it alone wherever I can. It’s only dangerous when disturbed. For the roof area, I’m going to pour a sealer solution over the vermiculite to lock it down, then add new insulation and roofing on top. The interior side is already sealed (except for the light wiring). When I do need to get near it — like fixing walls — I invested in a crazy expensive HEPA lab vacuum made for asbestos and lead. I’ll wet the vermiculite with a soap-water mix to keep dust down. Vacuum it through two sealed 5-gallon separators before it hits the HEPA filter. Full suit and mask, obviously. Then I’ll tape, bag, and dispose of the filled buckets properly. That setup actually worked great on the lead paint chips inside — filled a bucket, and barely anything made it to the filter. So… Overkill or not enough? Open to any advice or smarter ideas from anyone who’s dealt with this kind of mess.
I have vermiculite in the walls of my shop, which is older than your diner but was probably put in the walls around the time the diner was built. If it's in there and it's not falling out, just leave it alone. Yours is tested and doesn't have asbestos so you're safe to do that anyway, and when you have to clean some up, wear a mask, and if possible, wet it down so it doesn't create dust when sweeping/cleaning it up. You'll be fine. While it's very true that***** (and lead, too) is super harmful, it's only harmful when it's being disturbed. You did your due diligence with the testing which is good, and once it's sealed in the walls, or paint that's under another coat of paint, it really can't hurt anybody. All the research I did on the subject when I was working on my building said the same thing, the best thing to do is leave it alone and make sure it's sealed in.
Plasticville buildings must have been patterned after yours! That vermiculite stuff is best left alone, for sure. Some old houses here in the east have it. Cut an outlet hole, and the stuff pours out until the wall cavity is empty. Ugh.
Yup. I caulked up a lot of gaps in my place to hold that stuff in, cut out one window and poured a bunch onto the floor unexpectedly. Good to know it's there, less fun to find it by surprise.
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