Meet the ‘grandma’ of this McDonald’s in Hamilton
A supervisor affectionately calls her a McFossil."
Sitting at a high-top table in the indoor dining area of the McDonald's restaurant at the corner of Upper Gage Avenue and Mohawk Road East, Sharron Harley laughs.
I'm the grandma," she said, noting that's what some younger colleagues call her.
Though older than most at age 75, she's dressed like any other employee, wearing a yellow-and-black T-shirt promoting the new McCrispy sandwich and a black baseball cap.
Weekday mornings, you'll find Harley greeting breakfast regulars" with a cheerful smile at the drive-thru window, where she's been the morning girl" for 45 years. She knows customers' names, their orders and even their kids.
I love it here. I like getting up," she said.
Harley began a part-time career with McDonald's in 1977 to get out of the house" after her kids started school, working full-time for more than two decades and part-time for another 15 years. When her husband retired from his job at Stelco in 2015, she increased her hours once again so they could get full-time health benefits.
Like a fossil, Harley's years of experience offer a window into the past.
When I first worked here, we had to wear white (nurses') shoes," she said. And they had to be white." This, she said, involved regular polishing.
Harley estimates she's worn more than a dozen different uniforms - blue, pink, pea green, burgundy ties, striped shirts, skirts, and wide-legged pants - some of which she's kept in storage as mementos from the past.
She has also held onto several nostalgic Happy Meal toys, including brand mascots like the iconic red-haired Ronald, Hamburglar and Grimace, the furry purple character, mainstream toys like Hot Wheels and Barbie, and characters from current movies.
Sitting in the restaurant on Tuesday, manager Jen Wilson and human resources supervisor Stacie Maskell, who have both worked at McDonald's for more than 30 years, reminisced with Harley about the sandwiches of yesteryear, like the McDLT, which separated the hot burger items from the cold in a divided container.
Just as she's a part of the local McDonald's history, the iconic fast-food chain is a part of her. She and her husband bought their first home - blocks from the restaurant - and paid for several international trips with money saved from her salary. Her kids and grandkids have also worked at the restaurant.
Wilson, now her boss, describes her as a people person"
She's great with everybody. She helps everybody," she said.
It's been a year of milestones for Harley, who celebrated her 75th birthday with family and coworkers in January and her 45th anniversary with McDonald's last month.
I come out and they've got a cake and flowers for me," she said of her co-workers, who surprised her with a party.
Only twice has she considered leaving her job: Once on 08-08-08" - Aug. 8, 2008, when she planned to retire and never did - and again when her husband died last July.
He was the one," she said of her late husband, who she met on a blind date at a Port Dover dance in the 1960s. After Charlie passed away, I didn't get out of my bed for five days."
But a nagging voice - Charlie's, she thought - told her: Get your ass out of that bed."
He was coming down on me saying, Come on. You've got to live,'" she said.
She went back to work where her husband used to pick her up daily, taking with her a laminated photo of Charlie, which she tucks into an inside pocket of her uniform, and a clutch printed with his photo.
What's kept her at the iconic fast-food chain so long? The people, she says.
It's family," Harley said.
Maskell, who now oversees human resources at 11 local restaurants, was a kid when she first met Harley.
When I was nine years old, the first place I ever went on the bus by myself was this McDonald's," she said. The person that served me was Sharron."
She remembered her vividly," in part because of her bright red hair, but also because of her kindness and customer service.
You don't forget her when you meet her," she said.
Kate McCullough is a reporter at The Spectator. kmccullough@thespec.com