But I was always saddened by the loss of places like that, because it meant that whole world was gone. I wasn't just talking about the restaurant; I was talking about the whole vibe. And that's the message of the documentary as well. It's a place that reminds us who we were. That whole vibe is now gone... like the restaurant, like history itself.
A few years later, when I moved to NYC, I would meet some of those old people who also loved the place-- sometimes they had been there for decades, and not just because they'd come there to do some organizing.
A very powerful movie-- some people, in the end, have questioned the veracity of the facts... not because they're doubting that the events took place or that they're showing those events as they were, but rather that the filmmakers have somehow, possibly, out-sourced their job, given that we can see now, if we follow the online comments, just how close the documentary came to being a final product that would have been different than what you see.
The place was a beehive of activity, the first time I visited when I was around 14 and the last when I was in my early 20s, well before it closed. And I saw and heard so much in that space... it was everything from political rabble-rousing at one end of the room to the bluesy souls at the other end; and so much in between... my sister, a woman at the time, would sometimes take me there and sometimes we'd get the crazy punk dudes (at one point they were all the rage).
I worked at the restaurant around 1990-92. I remember the original owner, Richard, and his wife (from Montana, I think) as well as his son and his daughter. Richard treated us with respect and I think we always did good work. We were on the second floor and had a view of the dining room and the bar. I remember that the bar was where you ordered most of your drinks, including whiskey. Richard's wife, I think, was the manager. They went through several owners after Richard, but it always seemed like a good place. The best meals in the city. I worked with the cook at the time, a woman from Oklahoma. She was a big, boisterous woman and the only reason I remember her name is because she'd swear a lot, say obscenities that had to be bleeped out on the drive home, and because she made the best grilled cheese sandwiches the city had ever known. I don't know if she still cooks for the restaurant, I would hope so. Because of her, my dad wouldn't order a fried egg sandwich, but grilled cheese and tomato soup.
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