08/01/2020
To many of us, Dante is a very big word. That name is attached to a great man who has lived a very full life. It also marks a large chapter for many people who have dedicated time to working at Dante’s Down the Hatch, working with this man and his crew. It was an entertaining world to be a part of which drew wildly eccentric personalities. That type of environment and those types of people always make for a wild ride. Most everyone looks back upon those years with fond memories and a sense of how that place shaped them into becoming a better person. It was a fun environment, but also very serious work when dealing with pots of hot boiling oil. We had a great time, but we also had to learn how to do it right and get the job done safely. Dante lead with a grace that comes only from leading many troops over the years. He knew when to step in and take charge and when to pull back and let his managers take the reins.
That being said, there were times when those reigns had to be pried from those big ol sausage mitts of his. Many times I saw first hand that this stone-carved Captain was also a flawed man who made mistakes, but he listened to his crew. Watching someone who is king of his castle sit behind his desk and tell me he was wrong was beyond moving. I was a child at the time stating that I didn’t agree with something he said and I told him why. He didn’t ham and haw, he listened and asked me how we could do it better. In that sense I found immense power in being wrong, in being human. It didn’t happen all the time but it did happen and we all took note.
He had a fascination with people that wasn’t a one way street, he desired a back and forth. To the customer he was that man that told stories and stood on a stage. What some people may not have noticed was the amount of times he remembered the customer and asked them about the stories that they had told. He would bring gifts and trinkets from around the world back to his crew because he was still connected to them while being miles apart. I remember him coming back from Japan and calling me up to the office to give me a hand stitched toothpick holder.
He asked “You like toothpicks, am I right?”
Now, I’m a server so I don’t have a toothpick hanging out of my mouth when I’m working ever, but I like toothpicks. I asked him how he knew this and he told me that late at night when the restaurant was closed and the crew would gather at the bar for a post shift beer, he’d take the dog out and walk through the crowd to the side door. He noticed that I’d be in the corner posted up with a New Castle and a toothpick. Those are the kind of moments that you felt a shift, a transitioning from being an employee to being a family member. There were some members of our team that may not have come from a solid family situation and working there gave them a sense of stability, a place they could call home. We connected to all of management, the Grandfather Jerry, the Mama Subo, and the Mad Uncle Mark who always had a joke to tell. I saw this many times over the years while working there. Ex-employees would come back to visit, sit at the bar and feel that nothing had changed, they still belonged.
I made a documentary about this man and his creation. I sat and listened to hundreds of stories about the Hatch and about the man who created it. For two years I cried with people recanting some of the most moving and vulnerable moments of their lives. If I thought Dante was bigger than life before then, you could imagine the puzzle I was piecing together after that. I also sat with Dante himself for hours and many nights listening to him exalt over how amazing his staff was and how they made his idea come to life. He shared with me how much he loved the experience of combing through the different eras and examining what made it all work and how his military principles emerged over the years.
He would always tell me, “I may not be the best man to make it happen, but I have this amazing talent as to finding the right people that will get the job done, people who will take the initiative, and run with an idea and bring it into excellence.” That film could have been a twelve part mini series and it was extremely difficult putting it all into an hour and a half window of what the Hatch was all about.
There was a thought shared by Dick Sorenson, after the closing, about the sacred treasures of the Hatch leaving the building to create new stories, like seeds of a dandelion fanning out with the wind. I’m reminded of this image when I imagine all that has come from that very special place. I sit here and think of the many close friends I have today and how we all met at the Hatch twenty years ago. All the countless relationships that were made over the 43 year long reign in Atlanta, are the ones we turn to in all manners of difficult times. People need a support system and you meet these people when you come together, working with each other for the greater good. There was an exponential uniting of people that happened in Atlanta and the tipping point was Dante Stephenson. I believe his greatest legacy was the art of stitching people together. If you look around as we come together to celebrate this man take pride that you are part of his beautiful quilt. The place he left behind was more colorful than when he arrived.
We all feared his declining health over the past couple of years. The thought of a man that worked so hard in life going through a difficult exit was heart breaking. Dante was transferred to a memory facility recently and began to settle in. He of course immediately started socializing with the other residents and one evening came upon a podium with a microphone. He found it appropriate to hold court and tell his life story to those who would listen. He went to sleep that night and never woke up. No one thought it would be this soon but he was fortunate to escape the pain of dying. He went out doing exactly what he loved to do, and that was being Dante.
I will miss you more than you could ever imagine,
Your friend, Jef Bredemeier
