QUEENS, NY – Earlier this week I lost my dad, who was 95-years-old. He raised four boys on a waiter’s salary. My dad worked endless hours inside the dining room of the Westbury Hotel on Madison Ave, where he catered to the elite of New Yorkers.
He would tell us how Yankees Manager Billy Martin would show up with a beautiful young woman and seek him out with the line of, “Teddy, I need you to look out for me tonight.” That meant Martin was short on cash, and he knew he could depend on my dad to hand him a bill that totaled zero. Other times Martin would come in and take care of my dad with a three figure tip and a gift from his western wear store. Dad would bring home cowboy hats and western style belts. One time Billy was there with his drinking buddies, Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford. Dad would surprise us with four index cards autographed by the threesome.
Another time, a real estate maven named Donald Trump rented out a room with a girlfriend he was entertaining. The attractive blond was Marla Maples. Trump called room service and ordered twelve cases of Dom Perignon. My dad was one of the deliverers of the massive order. Trump asked the three waiters to open up each bottle and dump it inside the bathtub. The future president tipped them very generously for their help as Maples enjoyed a champagne bath with her future husband.
Of course, not everyone was a great tipper. President Richard Nixon failed to produce cash to my dad and instead handed him four business cards that he personalized for me and my brothers.
Even though none of us became rich and famous, I would praise my dad for the way he raised us. I would constantly remind him that none of us ever got arrested and none of us had any drug or alcohol issues. May you rest in peace Theodore Sakellaridis, and thanks for molding us into who we are today.
