Watertown community rallies behind diner in time of need

WATERTOWN, Mass. — Don Levy adjusts his mask as he approaches the Deluxe Town Diner, the Watertown, Massachusetts restaurant he and his wife Daryl have owned for over 20 years. The rust-stained doors creak as he enters, the empty dining room reminding him of the fact that this once-bustling hotspot has been void of diners for weeks.

Not long ago, the weekend brunch crowd was overflowing into the streets, kids were squirming in their seats and couples were splitting a piece of the famous apple pie. But the phone rings, breaking the silence — another take-out order. It’s the only thing keeping the Deluxe Town Diner afloat amidst a devastating pandemic.

Since its 1947 grand opening, the historic train car diner has been teeming with customers, sharing meals and sharing memories. However, as the novel coronavirus ushered in an age of restaurant closures and restricted indoor dining, the Deluxe Town devolved into a ghost town. For the first time in its 73-year history, the local treasure found itself on the verge of closing up shop.

“We lost 90 percent of our business last spring,” Levy said in a November interview. “We were able to stay open to do take-out, but it took a long time to build the business back up.”

Levy was hardly alone — restaurant owners across Massachusetts found themselves in similar straits. Governor Charlie Baker’s mid-March order banning on-site consumption of food and drink left restaurants with no choice but to clear out their dining rooms and survive on take-out service alone.

The restaurant industry is notoriously tough to crack, with high levels of competition and slim profit margins ranging from three to five percent on average. Keeping a restaurant in business was a challenge even before the virus reared its ugly head, and several hometown favorites crumbled under the additional pressure. 93 percent of the state’s restaurants cut their staff, rendering 200,000 industry employees jobless. One in five Massachusetts restaurants have permanently closed.

Levy and his team feared such a fate was in store for their diner. With only 10% of the usual revenue funneling in, the diner was drowning in bills, taxes and other dues.

“I was startled when I heard that we had to close down and go home,” said Virginia Schweiger, who has worked at the diner as a waitress since 2012. “Small businesses like us have such tight budgets, so operations coming to a halt like they did can be dire.”

The government stimulus check did little to compensate for the significant portion of business lost during spring’s shutdown. Levy said he had to “let some people go” to keep the diner’s head above water.

Even when indoor dining resumed mid-June, social distancing mandates still hampered the business. The diner was only able to operate at half-capacity in an effort to maintain six feet of physical distance between parties. Unable to fully return to business as usual, Deluxe Town and several other restaurants throughout the state remained trapped in a seemingly never-ending period of economic insecurity.

After eight months of navigating shutdowns and limited seating, the diner has adapted. The staff does its best to emulate the trademark hospitality and warmth that characterized the pre-pandemic diner experience — but naturally, it’s not the same. Waiters and waitresses can now welcome back their most loyal patrons, but their friendly smiles are concealed by their face masks. Guests that used to mingle with their neighbors at the lunch counter must now shout across a string of empty stools. Levy can no longer greet each customer as they walk through the doors, so he instead waves from afar. Daryl Levy, Don’s wife and co-owner of the establishment, now opts to bake the diner’s famous pies from the safety of her own home.

…

Diners have always been hallmarks of quintessential American culture, serving as settings in films such as Grease and Pulp Fiction, inspiration for Tom Waits’s song lyrics or backdrops in Norman Rockwell paintings. Even as the world around them evolved and modernized, diners maintained their classic decor and tradition of home-style cooking. The Deluxe Town Diner was Watertown’s very own time capsule before the virus turned it into a mere pit-stop for take-out meals. Stepping into the diner was like stepping into another era — neon lights lined the walls, 50’s swing music played, sounds of laughter and chatter blended into a buzz that filled the room. It offered an experience that just couldn’t be replicated by sitting around a kitchen table, eating Rhode Island Johnny Cakes from a paper to-go box.

“There’s something about diners,” Schweiger said. “Just how tied into our history they are, how nostalgic they are, how unique of an establishment they are for people to gather.”

Along with cafes, public parks, churches, malls and community centers, diners hold an essential position in society as “third places,” or sites outside the home and the workplace that promote a sense of community. People often split their time between the structured, formal environment of the workplace and the private environment of the home, but these settings rarely satiate the human’s inherently social nature. A third place provides a forum for cheery, carefree interaction with one’s family, friends or greater community. Whether strolling through a park, gazing at fall foliage with a significant other or eating breakfast for dinner with your friends at the local diner, these third places foster memories that deepen one’s connection to their community.

“The third place is incredibly important in community building,” Northeastern University sociology instructor and PhD candidate Samuel Maron said. “To be human, to be a member of a community, you have to have connections and ties not only in the two areas of home and work. I think that's what helps people feel more human, feel like their lives have purpose.”

Take the American sitcom, Seinfeld as an example — the television show’s main characters meet almost every day at their neighborhood diner, Monk’s. The diner not only brings the characters together physically, allowing them to strengthen their existing bond, but it widens their social circle. The characters regularly strike up conversations with waiters, patrons at the booth next to them or strangers freshening up at the bathroom sink. Monk’s connects the tight-knit group to their surrounding community and facilitates the merriment and misadventures that define the show.

For decades, the Deluxe Town Diner has been one of the Boston area’s most cherished third places. Shari Loessberg, a loyal customer of the diner for 14 years, credits Deluxe Town with cultivating some of her family’s fondest memories. She recalls the days when her young daughters would sit in the booths, their heads barely rising above the table, begging the waiters for a box of crayons. Their eyes would light up with pride when the staff members taped their doodles to the walls for all the guests to see. Now, one of the daughters is in college, bringing her boyfriend home to introduce him to the family and, of course, take him for Saturday morning brunch at the Deluxe Town Diner. It’s the hometown tradition.

“[The diner] is a really really lovely, colorful thread through all of the years and different stages of family and our daughters growing up,” she said.

Schweiger shares this view of the diner as a medium through which relationships are nurtured. One of her Wednesday regulars, a divorced father from Plymouth, makes the trek to Watertown once every week to spend the day with his son. She said the two either play at the local playground or get some work done at the library, but they always conclude their day with dinner at the Deluxe Town Diner.

Diners and restaurants are so deeply-woven into the fabric of American society that, prior to the pandemic, it was hard to imagine a world without them. Today, social distancing mandates have caused an erosion of these third places, and this hypothetical world has become easier to envision. It’s no longer a surprise to arrive at your favorite food spot only to find the lights out, the chairs stacked on the tables and the neon lights on the “open” sign dimmed. At one point, the future of the Deluxe Town Diner seemed just as bleak — until the community rallied to save it.

…

Like many other eateries scrambling to keep their doors open, Deluxe Town had to get creative. When the revenue from take-out orders just wasn’t cutting it, the team started a fundraiser on the crowdsourcing site Go Fund Me. They initially set an optimistic goal of $100,000, but were shocked to find over $50,000 raised in less than five days.

“The Go Fund Me, that has just been awe-inspiring… The local community really came up to bat,” Schweiger said. “The outpour of support for [Levy] and for the establishment has just been touching.”

The site today has seen over 1,000 donations, 2,000 shares and hundreds of comments, some celebrating the diner’s world-class pancakes and others its meaningful contribution to the community.

“Deluxe Town Diner is such an important part of our family breakfast life. The Levys have been so kind to us all over so many years, watching our girls grow up,” Loessberg wrote in a comment accompanying her $100 donation to the fundraiser. “We have so many memories of such happy times, and so so many yummy meals! Thank you for the extraordinary power of community you have created for us. We love you!”

Ayanna Coleman, who also donated $100, sees the diner as a unifying force in the community. “The Deluxe Town Diner is a genuine staple in our circle of family and friends,” she wrote. “Regardless of how far we all go, and how long we’ve been away, we always return at some point to our favorite place in town for delicious blue cornmeal pancakes, amazing French toast and a menu and atmosphere that never disappoint. A true staple to our growing up and to our community.”

The Deluxe Town isn’t just another diner. It’s the beating heart of Watertown. It’s an integral component of family traditions. It’s a backdrop for budding romances and children’s maturation. It’s a purveyor of nostalgia. And for Alysia Abbott, it’s a safe, welcoming environment for her autistic son.

In an open letter to the diner published in the Boston Globe, she lauds Deluxe Town as one of the few establishments at which her family can comfortably enjoy a meal. She writes that trips to noisy restaurants, movie theaters and museums can trigger her son Finn’s outbursts and prompt the family to pack up and leave. But at Deluxe Town, she has never felt such pressure.

“Since we moved to the neighborhood, and first explained Finn’s diagnosis, your staff has smiled at my family when we enter the diner,” she wrote, celebrating the employees’ welcoming spirits. “You understand why we need a corner booth, why we need oyster crackers before the food arrives, why Finn might need to get up and sit at the counter to watch the fry cooks stir steaming bacon… You make us feel that our patronage is just as important as anyone else’s.”

This culture of inclusivity is upheld by the owners and staff alike. Schweiger described the diner as a “home away from home” in which she feels supported by Levy, her boss of eight years, and her loyal patrons. She added that one of her regulars called the diner at the height of the pandemic and left a message saying, “let Virginia know we’re thinking of her.”

“The inclusivity here resembles a family,” Schweiger said. “No matter who your family members are, you’re always accepting of everyone who walks through the door.”

As delicious as the diner’s home-style meals may be, it’s these values of inclusivity, hospitality and community engagement that keep customers coming back for more.

“It's welcoming, it's warm, there's always this hubbub, this hive of activity like the babies crying, the trolleys with the bussed plates. It's noisy, but it's the happiest kind of noisy,” Loessberg said. “The embrace, that hug as you walk in… it’s those small connections and small interactions that are really the most important in making a community. And yes, the food is very good.”

…

As the days got shorter, the air got colder and the number of COVID-19 cases in the Boston area started to spike again this fall, Levy feared a dark winter was ahead. Indoor dining continues to pose a transmission threat, and even the proudest of New Englanders might pass on outdoor dining in freezing temperatures. But thanks to the community’s mobilization, the Levys have raised $107,774 — exceeding their goal of $100,000 by an impressive margin.

“It’s just heartwarming… The amount of money we raised is going to get us through the next 10 or 12 weeks or more. We’re not at risk of closing anymore,” Levy said.

The success of the fundraiser is a testament to the diner’s indispensable function in the community, as well as the importance of America’s third places. As donor Sharon Bauer wrote in the fundraiser’s comments, “Watertown would not be Watertown without the Deluxe Town Diner.”

But not all restaurants struggling in such a crippled economy can garner this same level of support. The Deluxe Town Diner might be saved, but third places as a whole are still endangered by the effects of the pandemic.

Back Bay bar and grill Whiskey’s has been a Boylston street favorite for more than 35 years, but the popular institution fell upon hard times last spring. In mid-July, it permanently closed its shutters, along with three other bars on the same block — McGreevy’s, The Pour House and Lirs. Demetri Tsolakis, who owns the nearby restaurant GreCo, lamented these losses in an interview with Boston.com.

“They were a place where we all went to at some point, for some reason — a breakup, after-work drinks, or to let loose. Now it’s quiet and a little sad because of the memories,” he said in the story.

With neighbors bumping into each other and old friends catching up over drinks, these institutions kindled a sense of community in their guests, just as Deluxe Town did. Now, the once-lively strip is quiet and empty on Saturday nights, painting a foreboding picture of a world without third places.

And to Maron, that world is “a scary world to imagine.” A deterioration of the spaces that foster social interaction and community building will leave us trapped in a monotonous routine of work, sleep, repeat.

“Without third places, there’s a risk of a person feeling like an automaton of capitalism. You’re constantly going from your bedroom to work, then back home, then back to work… it’s inherently limiting to the human experience,” he said. “To be a fulfilled human, you need to have connections outside of those spaces.”

Though the approval of the Pfizer and Moderna Covid-19 vaccines signals a light at the end of the tunnel, there is still a long road to recovery for this nation. The virus will continue to threaten third places and thus, threaten the foundations of our communities. But just like Watertown rallied to save the Deluxe Town Diner, we can rally to save small businesses in the various neighborhoods we inhabit. The next time you’re hungry, skip the drive-through chain and instead opt for take-out from your favorite local restaurant. They need your support more than you know.