And Sal was a big man. It’s been said that Horace Usry, an Augusta entrepreneurial prodigy and memory-making maestro in his own right, claimed to be a distant relative of the infamous Sal.

On any given day, you could hear Horace spinning spellbinding tales of “Cousin Sal” at his now legendary cafe and “forest of gifts” shop in Augusta’s midtown. Captivated audiences would flock to hear the legends of Horace’s larger-than-life cousin, who once halted a runaway subway train by crafting a building-sized sandwich so tall and dense with piles of roast beef and provolone that it absorbed the train’s impact, saving hundreds of people at a Christmas festival in 1954.

Sal had two great loves: great sandwiches and even better sandwiches. New York City was hooked on the aroma of sauces, cold cuts, and bread that swirled out of his kitchen like doves, delivering a hankering for a hoagie. So much so that the whisperings of Sal’s secret formula sliced up some real cheddar chatter. Some claimed an angel descended from heaven on a golden hoagie, her halo glowing with secret recipes. Others whispered that Sal had stumbled upon a magical refrigerator that led to The Great Sammie in the Sky, where an actual sandwich bestowed upon him the ancient deli arts. Sal never confirmed or denied these tales—he grinned and said, “Sometimes, a great deli isn’t just about a sandwich. It’s about serving up so DELIcious.”

One bite of Sal’s creations can fix your day, your love life, and maybe even your credit score. Some say that if you eat the signature Beef and Cheddar under the right phase of the moon, you might stumble upon the eternal fountain of cold drink and good vibes. And if you look closely at the deli’s wall, you’ll see a portrait of Sal and his cousin Horace looking on with a grin as if to say, “Go ahead. Add extra pickles. It’s what The Great Sammie in the Sky would’ve wanted.”