The Restaurant

My cousin, John called this morning. He is buying a restaurant. This is just another part of the endless loop running through my family. When my father first got married, his father black balled him in the Greek community because my dad dared to marry a non Greek. Papou hoped he'd give up, but stubbornness also runs in our family. My dad got work at the Macomb Deli (where the Zebra Room is now) right across the street from where his parents lived. Every day, his mother would go over there trying to convince him to reconsider his marriage. She offered him trips to Greece and money. She proposed sending him back to G.W.U. Then, when all else failed, she cried. Nothing worked. My father didn't particularly like the restaurant biz, but that was what he knew. He was nineteen years old with a baby on the way. The jobs he had before were picking up balls at a driving range, selling The Saturday Evening Post, and being a busboy for his father's restaurant, Macomb Cafeteria.

Later, the golf ball experience may have helped my dad get work picking up hangers off the floor for the Hecht Company, but the $15 a week was not cutting it for him. Finally one of the black balling Greeks, Steve Demas, broke down and he became a helper on a laundry truck. Eventually he was promoted to Service Manager, and got to drive a Ford coupe with the words QUICK SERVICE LAUNDRY lettered in gold on the door. By then he was 21, and he had two kids. My Papou broke down and rented him a road house called the Hollywood Inn out in Camp Springs, Md. They could live there cheaply enough, but the catch was he had to run the restaurant. By day, he worked for Quick Service and put flyers on people's cars advertising chicken dinners at the Hollywood Inn. On the weekends, he fried the chickens.

During World War Two, Papou talked my dad into running Churchhill's Bar and Grill with my Aunt Catherine and Uncle Mimi who had just arrived from Greece. Churchill's was where Cactus Cantina is now. If you go there you can see the old glass door where my mother used to sit at the cash register It was open from 6 a.m. til 2 a.m., and they all lived upstairs. My dad had to work the night shift until Uncle Mimi learned how to mix a cocktail. At the end of the war, they were able to sell Churchill's and buy their own linen service- Modern Linen. Soon my brother and all three of my cousins were drafted to go work there. They hated it. Everybody hated it, except for my uncle and my father who thought it was a piece of cake compared to running Churchill's.

Many years later, after my uncle died and my father retired, Modern Linen was sold and my cousins and brother all chose different trades. One became a teacher. One went into pest control, and one has passed on. But now years and years later, my cousin has decided to buy a restaurant. I can't wait to go.