Bob unsuccessfully tried to fight wildlife officials in court. Then Beers introduced legislation to would allow him to revive the stand. "This is the case of the criminalized crustacean," Beers told colleagues in 2007, to no avail.
Bob and Pam plowed ahead with the cafe -- defiantly named after their lobsters. It opened in December. Pam, 62, runs things seven days a week, 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. She's willowy and bespectacled, her thinning hair clipped back with a barrette, her sneakers squeaking. The dinnerware is plastic. You fetch your own can of Pepsi. Prices top out at $8.75.
While much of Nevada boomed in recent years, Mineral County languished. Its median household income was about $37,000 in 2007, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
"You live in central Nevada, you live in a depression," Bob says. "Property values haven't dropped here, but they never went up."
So Mina relies on travelers -- and they've been hard to come by during this recession.
"I hope they make it," says Laurie Buck, nodding toward the Eddys. She and her husband, Bob, are polishing off a French dip sandwich and steak. They remember seeing Bob Eddy and his crustaceans on TV years ago, when the Bucks lived in Las Vegas. Their $17 lunch is the week's big outing, and they chose the cafe mainly to support Bob and Pam.
In this government-suspicious state, the Eddys are highly regarded among desert dwellers. When Beers failed to win reelection, GOP Assemblyman Ed Goedhart took up their cause. But during the 2009 session, he couldn't get the bill heard and promised to help Bob get through administrative channels -- all front-page news in the Pahrump Valley Times.
For now, all that remains of the Eddys' seafood stand a few miles south is the greenhouse skeleton and a sign:
Nevada:
Liquor Legal 24 HR
Gambling Legal 24 HR
Prostitution Legal 24 HR
Lobsters NOT LEGAL
By late afternoon, the cafe has cleared out. No silverware clacks, no fryer bubbles.
"If nothing else," Pam says, "we might be a soup kitchen before it's over."
Bob heads home. Pam stays behind with an elderly miner, Jack Walker, who says he doesn't trust Washington to fix the economy. He's been buying as much gold and silver as he can afford because he views them as safer than banks and stocks.
He and Pam wonder what folks in Mina, who always found a way to get by -- even if it meant raising crayfish in the desert -- will do if the economy continues to slump.
Pam: "When the Depression hit, people still had mining and ranching. Now where are people going to go?"
Jack: "I think we've lost our country, and I don't know if we'll get it back."
Pam: "We're getting as close to socialism as I know." She stares out the window, hands balled, fretting.
The front door opens, and a handful of customers break up the conversation. Bill, the cook, sprints to the kitchen, and Pam hands out blue paper menus. The diners consider chicken fingers, French fries, bacon cheeseburgers.
Their only seafood options, for now, are hand-breaded fried fish and shrimp.
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ashley.powers@latimes.com
