Howard Gilnite discovered this place shortly after the passing of
his beloved wife. Friends encouraged him to get out and be with
people; and we were honored that he chose to frequent our
restaurant.
In the beginning, he was deeply afflicted by grief. We gave of
our hearts and our actions, and slowly but surely his grief gave way
to joy. We delighted in watching the change come over him as he
ventured away from his usual plain steak and potatoes and toward
foods a wee bit more exotic. In fact, he thrived as does a flower
once deprived of water thrives with a much-needed rainfall.
Buddy made sure never to miss special events and performances by
his favorite musical artists - and we always made sure he had a seat
front and center. Ever humble, he'd usually listen to a few tunes
and retire to the back of the room or to the lounge. This was a man
who enjoyed the company of all who were around him. He had poise,
grace, and a lot of class, even though he constantly avoided
compliments and called himself a plain, hard-working man.
I cannot count the number of evenings when Buddy and I were the
last people in the restaurant, and we'd share our favorite music;
the Great American Songbook, as expressed by the great singers of
the '40s, '50s and '60s. Indeed, it was sometimes three o'clock in
the morning when we'd finally close the place up and leave, after
listening and conversing about these great musicians - and the great
music.
He was a pillar of strength for me when my father passed on. When
he found out he himself was ill, he kept it from his friends until
it could no longer remain secret.
God decided he'd let Buddy have a final fling; a gala birthday
party at which he was surrounded by friends and loved ones.
Throughout the event he had a huge grin on his face. It was his
eightieth birthday. He seemed to be doing so well we didn't think it
would be his last.
Upon reading the newspaper's obituary, we were in awe that a man
who'd suffered the loss of so many loved ones could be as filled
with joy and grace as Buddy. I could go on, but let's keep it short
and sweet, Howard Gilnite, I will remember you.
- Paul Lewis and the staff, Szechuan Tokyo, West
Hartford
"I
Remember You" performed by Tony Allen from his album "I Remember
Front Street" ©2003
Tony Allen
