Everyone Has an Eagle's Nest Story. And if you don't, we'd like to give you one.

Try this experiment in Oklahoma City.

Find someone over the age of forty. Mention the Eagle's Nest. Watch what happens to their face.

The "ohhh." The smile. The hand on the arm. And then — without fail — a story.

A first date that turned into forty years. A proposal on a clear night with the whole city turning slowly past the glass. A prom dress they still have somewhere. A grandmother who insisted on Sunday brunch every weekend without exception. A fiftieth anniversary their kids surprised them with. The big promotion. The big goodbye. The big yes.

Five different restaurants have lived at the top of Founders Tower. The Chandelle Club. The Eagle's Nest. Nikz at the Top. The George. 3Sixty. The names changed. The room didn't. And somewhere in this city, for sixty years, someone has been having the night of their life twenty floors up.

Founders Tower

That's not a marketing line. That's just what happens when you put a room with 360 degrees of Oklahoma City at the top of a tower and leave it open long enough.

That's not a list of restaurants. That's a city's memory, stacked one layer on top of another, twenty floors up.

We wrote the full sixty-year story of the building — the Chandelle's Italian murals, the whiskey raid, the Queen Ann cafeteria downstairs, the rotation that stopped, the night the room went dark, and the New Year's Eve party that brought it back. Read it here →

And if you have an Eagle's Nest story of your own — or a Chandelle, a Nikz, a George, a 3Sixty — we'd love to hear it. Send it to us. We're keeping a record before they're lost.

If you've never been up here at all? The elevator still works. The view is still the best in the city. Slate would be glad to give you a story to tell.

Sixty years above this city. Still the best seat in the house.