Dave Thomas Story

By Dave Shiflett.

Mr. Shiflett is a writer living in Virginia. He is co-author of "Christianity on Trial: Arguments Against Anti-Religious Bigotry" (Encounter, 2001).

The passing of Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburgers, brings to mind the Bard's often-ignored observation: Ripeness is all. Mr. Thomas, who was 69, lived large, ate large, and was somewhat large himself, as one would expect of a man whose hero was the burger-gobbling Wimpy from the Popeye cartoons and whose inspiration was Col. Harlan Sanders, patron saint of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Mr. Thomas was also a great American -- a man of action and a true natural philosopher. At a time when we are advised to tiptoe through life lest we leave footprints, his were deep enough to wash a cow in.

Mr. Thomas was, first and foremost, a regular guy who made good. An adopted orphan, he dedicated his adult life to helping abandoned children. A high-school dropout, he ended up with 6,000 restaurants, a thick grubstake, and, in 1993, a high school diploma. He was also a revolutionary. After closely studying the lowly hamburger, he decided it was the wrong shape. His hamburgers would be square. This was no minor matter of aesthetics. It was soulcraft of a profound type.

As every great chef knows, presentation is crucial. It sends a message. What message was Mr. Thomas sending? Advice from an elder: Don't cut corners. And so, when one ate at Wendy's one ingested not only food but philosophy. Similarly, Mr. Thomas's books and speeches promoted faith, family, and hard work -- vital ingredients for success, especially for those whose lives are not served to them on a silver platter. His policies found strong marketplace endorsement: Mr. Thomas became a millionaire at 35 and his businesses, which include the Tim Hortons chain, now boast sales above $8 billion.

All of this earned him sneers. "Dave (that's what he wants to be called). . . would claim that he's just offering some simple, hard-won, home-spun talk about God, honesty, and the spiritual nourishment of fast food," sniffed one critic in Kirkus Review. "It's not that Dave's advice is stupid (though it is simple), and it's not that Dave's a bad guy (lotta talk about charity). It's that Dave is selling hamburgers."

And that, of course, was a mortal sin. For those smug folks, Mr. Thomas was an easy target. After his death, The Arizona Republic had to reject a cartoon submitted to them by regular contributor Brian Farrington depicting Mr. Thomas lying on the ground next to a "Triple Lard Burger" and Biggie Fries. The tombstone nearby memorialized him as "Another overweight American who ate a lifetime of junk."