By John Katrina and David Carlin, The Citizen Body
To many Roxboroughites, a Roxborough without Bob’s Diner is unfathomable.
Because this humble, yet quintessential part of the neighborhood, is not only an awesome classic diner for old school comfort food, and legacy business, but it’s a central part of our community.
Maybe that’s why The Philadelphia Inquirer, says it’s also one of the 2025, “76 most essential restaurants in Philly.”
And Philadelphia Magazine, this year, says Bob’s Diner is the Best Diner in Philadelphia.
These awards come on top of a decades long accumulation of “best of” awards that adorn the walls and torsos of the Ridge Avenue staple like wallpaper and tattoos.
We often take for granted the 79-year-old Streamline Moderene architecture throwback to a post-war America, but maybe it’s time we take a look past the hangover curing eggs, bacon, and buttermilk pancakes, and of course, long-lived signature “creamed chipped beef” dish.
Built to last in Elizabeth, NJ, 1947, and standing the test of time. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
Delving into the community gathering place that has survived the Cold War, the Civil Rights Riots, Vietnam, The Gas Crisis of the 70’s, every stock market bubble and recession since the Great Depression, Covid 19, and whatever this craziness we’re living in now is called, it’s a long story, but here’s the short, well, medium version.
Bob’s Diner is one of a couple dozen remaining special diners of its kind that survive on the east coast.
But there’s more to the silver and red neighborhood landmark than architecture and omelets.
The now defunct Jerry O’Mahony Diner Company, based out of Elizabeth, NJ made about 2,000 of these iconic shiny culinary bungalows, known as “roadside diners” between 1917 and 1952, and shipped them intact to locations from New Hampshire to Wisconsin to Virginia, with one that ended up in Germany and another in France, and remain there presently.
But back to this side of the Atlantic and the Philly stamp we so love to put on everything and anything we touch.
The cozy Diner we now know as Bob’s had its debut in Center City Philadelphia under an unknown name (please submit info if you have it), for six months, then a quick move and brief stay (another six months) at the site of the Sunoco Station at Ridge and Leverington, according to Jim Evans, the present and longest tenured owner of the establishment, before a final move and taking root as the “20th Century Diner” and eventually keystone of the small business community at Ridge and Lyceum.
While Elvis was scandalizing rock ‘n’ roll with gyrating hips on the Ed Sullivan show, what we now know as Bob’s was still the “20th Century Diner,” right up until we landed on the moon.
It wasn’t until 1969 that Jim Koller came along and bought the diner and renamed it “Kollers.”
He ran it for 10 years as the neighborhood gastric hub, and continued building the community roots that are evident today.
1979 was the year that the tiny shiny icon of Roxboroughness got its modern moniker: “Bob’s.”
It was Bob Harmer, a life-long Roxborough resident that purchased it from Jim Koller and kept the flavor, vibe, and mission alive in transition to what we enjoy today.
So, for the decadent 80’s with its big hair and big money, Bob’s withstood the turbulence of ever-changing fashion, shifting Zeitgeist and tastes, and anchored our neighborhood to something that transcended the fickleness of pop culture.
And even Hollywood saw the charm of the spot and used it in the 1988 film “Stealing Home” with Mark Harmon, Jodie Foster and Harold Ramis.
Other films and music videos also chose the monument to community, including local act, Kurt Vile of Mount Airy.
And assorted feature ads were also shot here. Jim noted one political ad from Pittsburgh and said — “I asked why shoot something in Philly when it’s Pittsburgh related? and they said that the director lives in Roxborough.”
Maybe Roxborough is the geographic equivalent of “Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon.”
When Jim, a West Oak Lane native, took it over in 1994, he saw the value of something bigger than physical size, trendy cuisine, or even a quick buck.
He worked to own it, and it shows.
Jim Evans works the Saturday morning crowd like a pro. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
And it’s this work ethic and magnanimity that cuts through the railroad dining car style ambience, the accolades about being the “best,” and the local celebrity of being, well, “Bob.”
And speaking of celebrities, Jim offers memories of boxing champion “Smokin’” Joe Frazier, and mayors (at the time) Ed Rendell and Michael Nutter joining the crowd.
The latter choosing Bob’s as an exemplary Philly eatery when we went smoke free in 1999.
When Jim finished on the grill this busy Saturday, and we sat down in my favorite corner booth to chat, I accidentally called him “Bob,” again, and he chuckled — “I like it” he said.
“When there’s a problem I can blame it on Bob, not Jim.”
So I started with the question I think everyone wondered at one time or another: “Why did you keep it “Bob’s?”
Without hesitation he started, “Because it’s not important to have my name attached to something that’s for the community.”
And with that I understood more deeply why Roxborough has a strong sense of community and why Bob’s is linchpin for that unwritten ethos — it’s not transactional —- it’s not just business.
As the famed ghost Jacob Marley famously admonished Ebenezer Scrooge — “Mankind was my business!”
Not sure if Jim is a Dickens fan like me, but we share the spirit, and it comes through in the locally famous “Eye Opener” breakfast — $11.99 for two eggs any style, meat (go for the corned beef hash), home fries, toast, and coffee — is a nod to the grace of balancing profit with the needs of the community.
And how can a diner that borders a cemetery and has a tagline of “A Monumental Dining Experience” not have a ghost story to tell?
“Well, there is,” says Jim. “My first week, I was in the basement by myself at 11 p.m., and I heard three loud knocks on the floor upstairs. I went up to investigate and found nothing. Back in the basement, three more knocks – nothing. And a final three, louder knocks at 10 minutes to midnight. I thought it was friends pranking me, but after almost an hour, and a full moon illuminating the gravestones, the hair on the back of my neck stood up … and I said out loud — “You guys have been here longer than me” — my “neighbors,” and I left. It never happened again.”
Maybe those neighbors instilled the sense of community into the new venture, maybe they were welcoming a kindred spirit in Jim, like Marley – either way, we all benefited.
And Jim has been at this for 33 years since that spooky night … almost as impressive as his better half and restaurant manager, Trisha Harder, who also was present while I devoured that Eye Opener.
49 years Trisha has been an employee, which means she started under the “Koller” years — amazing longevity and history.
Trisha ‘Gigi’ Harder keeps the sunny side up for 49 years. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
Trisha, aka “Gigi” to those in the know at Bob’s, makes the challenge of customer service look magically easy, and she keeps the happy-go-lucky vibe alive as Jim and I are huddling to a private corner booth with a view of Ridge and Lyceum looking as if the right ventricle of the heart of Roxborough.
Community starts with family and extends through friends and neighbors.
Bob’s is evidently no exception as Trisha and Jim’s grandson, Jake, is busy on the grill covering for his family, including grandad that sits in front of me. Having worked up the ranks washing dishes, bussing tables and refilling coffees, he’s clad in a matching black and white “Bob’s” t-shirt.
Trisha Harder, grandson Jake and Jim Evans with energy to spare after a busy Saturday morning rush. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
He’s trading it in temporarily for blue and white when he shuffles off to Penn State in the fall, but we might be able to catch him helping out again over summers and holidays as he’s done in the past.
We all have to work, but when we do it in a place like this, we feel something more than simply transacting to survive, we feel a sliver of agape, and unity that we could never get from a screen, a drive through, or a bag of food sitting on our doorstep with no humans in sight.
Jim is noticeably excited to tell me “I’m seeing a lot more new people … we’re getting five star reviews from first timers.”
His appreciation of the new members of the community is palpable.
Lifers, transplants, and new arrivals all gather as equals. “We’re a melting pot” Jim proclaims, adding “we probably had 50 kids here today!”
The Inky knows what Philly is all about. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
All ages, all ethnicities, all skin tones and all faiths, gathered organically and unpretentiously — and that idea of an America we all dreamed about is as buoyant as the especially fluffy omelets coming out of the old-fashioned milk shake machine — a Bob’s tradition.
As one might imagine, owning a diner is a people business, and Jim intimates that he’s made a lot of friends in over three decades of running Bob’s, citing candidly that friends are a blessing and a responsibility that require a significant amount of time and emotional investment.
Somehow this statement wouldn’t seem likely to get Jim on the cover of Fortune … but maybe we need a magazine called “Wisdom,” and we’d have a front cover forthat.
Then we talk about the future … it’s no secret, Bob’s has been for sale for almost a decade.
Because now in his early 70’s Jim Evans is ready to pass the baton and specifically pass the Bob’s baton — not just cash out to the highest bidder for the real estate (more condos) and for the sake of maximizing profit.
Bob’s wins Best Diner Philadelphia Magazine 2026. (Photo courtesy of John Katrina)
Maybe those ghosts left a message or memento mori that it’s about something more than money?
But those ghosts never needed to admonish the crown holder of Bob’s Diner to be more generous.
He had already helped many sustain households, build resumes, and get out of the occasional financial challenge, including an immigrant family from Afghanistan that need some help getting established in America after fleeing the Taliban in 2020.
So, after almost 80 years, the place whose menu reads “Where Good People Meet to Eat” is publicly still looking for a new steward.
And Jim is willing to train, advise, and support.
Bob’s ain’t broke, quite the opposite, so there’s nothing to fix, but Evans welcomes some thoughtful evolution, because he is cognizant of the elusive balance between the inevitable march of change and the vulnerable magic of the precious past.
Remember those late-night conversations about taking over the world at our home town diners?
Human imagination, maybe not at its finest, or soberest, but perhaps at its freest.
There are no kings, dukes, or earls in Bob’s, just, well, more Bob’s.
Maybe the slogan for whoever takes it over will be — “We’re all Bobs at Bob’s!”
For more local news from The Citizen Body, visit www.thecitizenbody.com