And So It Goes

Posted on April 6, 2015 | 7 Comments

The post-Mario’s era begins:

(Photo/Gene Borio)

(Photo/Gene Borio)

This entry was posted in Restaurants, Saugatuck and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 responses to “And So It Goes”

  1. Wanda Tedesco | April 6, 2015 at 4:59 pm |

    Lived in town 70 years. Frank’s Special, yum!!! Good luck kids! Life changes and we need to move on. Be happy! XO

  2. Madeleine ("Mandy") Mercier | April 6, 2015 at 5:01 pm |

    Wow, all my life (well, since 1954 when we moved to Westport) I remember Mario’s. My father, and later also my mother commuted to NYC all the time and later I did!!! Many other places have changed of course, but this is a big one!!

  3. Susan Hopkins | April 6, 2015 at 5:18 pm |

    Grateful for the multitude of Mario’s memories ….

  4. Jamie Walsh | April 6, 2015 at 6:15 pm |

    A landmark since I was a kid, now in life’s rear view mirror…as well as a ton of spaghetti and meatballs!

  5. Devon O'Brien | April 6, 2015 at 8:44 pm |

    I was not fully grown. We were at the train station awaiting the arrival of our father who was working in the City on Madison Avenue. It was the late-60’s. Our mother said, “Hurry up. Go into Mario’s. Now. And look in the back.There’s a lady back there, you have to see this lady.” Like the game urchin that I was, I scrambled to the glass door of Mario’s Restaurant, pulled it open and thrust myself across the threshold and stood in the light of the bar. I felt awkward and all-a-tingle, and peered with purpose into the rear dining room, seeking my subject. My eyes found a woman all by herself. By the time I saw her, she had already seen me seeking her and, bemused, awaiting for me to discover her there. After all, she was used to it. It was Bette Davis and she was waiting for me with those, well, Bette Davis eyes. Sitting in the back room and waiting for her plate of spaghetti or for the check, Bette Davis granted me her signature electric gaze. We had a moment. I will always remember our moment. Our moment still makes me tingle. I will always be grateful to Mario’s for the hospitality and the cuisine that drew the famous, the infamous and locals, alike.

    • Sharon Paulsen | April 6, 2015 at 9:33 pm |

      Just simply … a wonderful tidbit here!

      My father was a 1960’s Manhattan/Wallstreet commuter (before opening up New York Bike Shop in Westport later in the 70’s), and he took me to Mario’s as a kid – awesome memories.

      Sad to see it go!

  6. Paul Flaxman | April 14, 2015 at 1:18 pm |

    To Lori and Dominic,

    To me, your Dad was Mario’s Place and Mario’s Place was your Dad. People come and go in this world but Frank DeMace was a guy who came and enriched lives. He gave people jobs, he gave them advice, he gave them second chances when they needed it. How typical of your Dad to tell you that Mario’s Place was his journey and that it was OK for you to move on from it. Like most gems, he was not perfect, but he was certainly a gem.

    By the way, I can still picture you two rug-rats running around the restaurant while we set the kitchen up on Sunday mornings. All the best in your future!