Saving Sign of the Whale

I have told all of you, I'm sure, the story of how I ended up first going to Sign of the Whale. After a bad day, I talked myself into going to the Thursday Night Out with fellow GW students. The site that night was SOTW. The World's Greatest Waitress took care of me, and a few years and a lot of money later, I had a place I felt I could always, always, always go.

I don't know if I ever told you about almost deciding to avoid going there ever again. In 2006 I started hearing rumors that the place would be sold to a local radio personality who was going to change the name and turn it into an Irish pub--because Lord knows that DC just doesn't have enough of those. For some reason the deal fell through, and the owner of Rhino Bar, Britt Swan, ended up buying it instead. The new manager of Sign of the Whale was Vito.

(Note: the old manager was a guy named Billy, the inspiration for the Billy's Belly Buster brunch menu item: eggs, hash browns, sausage, grits, pancakes, and two slices of melon. One Sunday afternoon an Eagles fan came in and asked if they were showing the Eagles game on any of the TVs. Billy, a Redskins fan, looked right at him, pointed to the door, and said, "Get out.")

Every time I went to SOTW after the sale, Vito was there. I didn't talk to him much until my last few months in DC, but he was always polite and seemed like he had a good handle on running things. When I told him I was moving back home, he said they'd miss me, hoped I came back to see them, and wished me luck. When I was in town over New Year's, I stopped in one afternoon. He saw me and said, "You're back!" I never assume that I'll be remembered when I go back any place (except some places in Natchitoches) so it made me feel pretty good.

I'm writing about Vito because he died. I wasn't really close to him, but the work he did at Sign of the Whale allowed me to have a lot of fun when I thought for a while it would all be taken away. I really like the DC/N.VA area, and I recommend it to a lot of people, but Vito loved the city. I asked him once how long he'd been there, and he said all his life. His parents were Italian immigrants who settled there. The only time in his life he didn't live there was when he was in Vietnam.

So take care, Vito, and I'll raise a couple of glasses to you next time I'm there.