Andy Nelson often repeated a warning to his seven children as they worked on the family’s garden in Baltimore County: “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”

For Nelson, who grew up on a farm in Alabama and rose to fame as a Baltimore Colts player and later as a restaurateur, it was a credo born from experience.

Before the days when an NFL safety could command a $100 million contract, pro football players like Nelson didn’t get paid enough to feed their families.

“He always had two or three jobs all the time,” recalled Nelson’s son Paul. The Colts safety, who died Sept. 12 at 92, went from Baltimoreans’ TV screens in “The Greatest Game Ever Played” to selling shoes, working in sales for a trucking company and coaching sports himself.

In 1981, years after he retired from the NFL, Nelson launched a stand selling pit beef, a trade he’d picked up “from some guys in East Baltimore,” Paul said. The stand was on the grounds of Valley View Farms, a large nursery in Cockeysville where Nelson, an avid gardener, was a frequent shopper.

Over time, Nelson branched out from just pit beef to incorporate the flavors of his own childhood in the Deep South, including a recipe for pulled pork barbecue he learned from his father, Guy, who ran a meat business in Alabama called the Hoggly Woggly.

Nelson “cooked pork all night,” Paul said, waking up throughout the evening to stoke the hickory logs in the fire.

The food was good, but Paul said his father was the real draw. On weekends in the fall, customers came by for a “pumpkin, a pork sandwich and ‘Oh, Andy Nelson’s here,’” recalled his daughter Linda.

Nelson ran the operation with his wife, Bettye, who played an integral role in the business and prepared all the side dishes. “She cooked the best apple cake that ever was,” said Carrie Engel, a longtime employee of Valley View.

The stand grew so successful that Nelson moved into a space just a few doors down on York Road. His family worked in the restaurant with him, and Nelson often hovered over them, making sure everything was up to snuff and peppering them with his favorite sayings. “You gotta make it like you’re going to eat it,” he often told his children. “We’re gonna feed everybody before dark” was another go-to. If a plate of food looked particularly delectable, he might say, ”Somebody’s eating good."

Through the years, Nelson’s barbecue was frequently named the best in town by local publications such as Baltimore Magazine, The Baltimore Sun and the City Paper.

And certainly the food at Andy Nelson’s was and is delicious. “It’s the best barbecue ever,” said customer Jim Duffy. Duffy left the Baltimore area 25 years ago, but on every trip home, “it is an absolute requirement that we have to go to Andy Nelson’s.” As he finished his lunch at the restaurant this week, he sat with one bag full of pork sandwiches to share with his family and another of sauces to mail to his home in South Florida.

Equal to the food was the thrill of getting to meet Nelson, a frequent fixture at the restaurant. He might be behind the counter, taking orders or on the floor bussing tables in a dining room decorated with old photos of him and his teammates and close friends, including quarterback Johnny Unitas. Duffy would ask Nelson about games, and Nelson shared stories from his glory days on the field.

To Duffy, Nelson represented a bygone era of the sports legend next door. Many former Colts and Orioles stayed in the area they played in long after they retired, living and raising families among the fans they’d once dazzled on the field.

“There’s something about the old Baltimore Colts players,” said Paul, who runs the catering operation for the restaurant. “People remember them for football, but there’s a lot more to them than that.”

After Bettye’s death in 2010, Nelson frequently returned to Valley View Farms, where he’d started the pit beef and barbecue stand. He told staff the place reminded him of his wife and family and the days they’d spent there, Engel said. “It brings tears to your eyes when you think about some of those times,” she said.

For Nelson’s family, there’s comfort in thinking that their father is reunited with his wife of 57 years. “He’s a working dude,” Linda said. “But I think he got tired.”