Today I will talk about my other "best boss," Rita Ehrich. Unfortunately, I learned late last year that she had passed away in April, 2009. Even so, this is not a sad story.
I worked for Rita at a restaurant called Ehrich's Bavarian Inn. Here are a couple links. Maybe you don't care, but I do. And it's my blog.
Map of Ehrich's (now Swanberg's) Bavarian Inn
Street View shot #1
Street View shot #2
Street View shot #3
I learned of her death on the funeral home website and from the local paper where she lived. I posted the following to both locations:
I worked as a waiter for Rita and Bill at Ehrich's Bavarian Inn during the summers of 1988 and 1989. I was just a punk kid back then looking for a summer job to pay for college. I went around to all the restaurants in the area, seeing if they needed another waiter. Rita was the only one who said yes. She came out, looked at me, moved her glasses down her nose, thought a minute, and said: Yes, I'll hire you. Snap judgment, just like that.
I don't know what she saw, but she had a great crew working for her. I've never had so much fun on a job.
First night I was there, Rita asks me what I wanted for dinner. I didn't know how to respond. I asked, what are the options. She looked at me like I was stupid and said, "You're a waiter, you've seen the menu!" or something to that effect. She treated her employees like kings. She ordered special brats one time--only for the staff, too good to sell to the customers, she said.
She had pontoon boat parties for the staff twice each summer. She stocked those boats with food and liquor--good stuff, too. One time we had two boats. Old folks on one boat, young kids on the other. We decided to moon the old folks boat and tipped it so much that the nose of the pontoon boat actually went underwater.
Everybody knew Rita. She once bragged that she had a friend in the merchant marine (or Navy?) who would send her postcards from anywhere in the world with this address: "Rita, 54545, USA."
She was unique and she was special.
Not sure who will read this. But if anyone I worked with reads this, this is "The Professor" (as she called me).
Rest in peace, Rita.
Now here's the cool part. After I sent the above, the local paper ran this story:
Aug. 28, 2009
Greetings:
Some of the most interesting and heart-warming e-mails that come across my inbox are the ones responding to an obituary. You learn these great stories about people and the imprint they have made on the life of others. And you realize once again that it is rarely the big flourishes, the awards or the accolades that matter and that others remember; it's the stuff of everyday life.
Here's one about Rita Ehrich, 75, of Bargersville, who died earlier this year.
[At this point they printed my comments as written above.]
It gets better. Rita's relatives saw this in the paper and loved it. I got a call from Rita's niece. It was really cool to talk to her. Turns out that this niece is the daughter of Rita's sister, so she's on Rita's side of the family. They never understood the relationship between Rita and Bill (nor did any of us who worked for them).
And I found out one more thing. It is Rita's family who lives in Indiana. Why is this interesting? Well, in all the time I worked at Ehrich's I never saw Bill win a single argument with Rita. She was THE BOSS. Anyway, for some reason I thought that when they retired they moved down to Indiana because that is where Bill's family was from. That Bill finally came out on top. Well, not true! They moved there to be close to Rita's family. So Bill never did win an argument with Rita! Rita's niece and I both laughed about that.
I'll close with some additional thoughts that didn't make it into my short version. Isn't this blog post too long already? No, it is not.
Rita went back to Germany every year. Brought back gifts for the staff. I still have a German beer stein from her. And remember, I was just a punk kid who worked for her for two summers.
Rita told us that her restaurant was haunted. Whenever something would go wrong she would say, "There's Rudy again!" Rudy was the guy who she and Bill bought the restaurant from. She's probably haunting it now.
Rita probably cooked the best food I've ever eaten. Sauerbraten. Hungarian Goulash. Spaetzles. Even Shrimp Chowder soup, every Friday. People would come in just for that soup. I can still smell it. People would complain because it would run out so early. Everyone knew she cooked it only on Fridays. But it would run out at 6p sometimes. Only a few people at dinner would even get it. They would say, "Where's the shrimp chowder?" I said, "You're too late." We'd ask her why she didn't cook more. She said, "My recipe only works for this size pot. Tell them to get here earlier!" She was a piece of work.
Rita was a old German broad (and she was broad, if you know what I mean). Tough as nails. Making spaetzles and wiener schnitzel is hard work. Her forearms were huge. She went on vacation to visit Scotty (her son, who was in the Coast Guard in Alaska one summer) and left the restaurant in our hands. Couple of the cooks, strong young guys, had to do the work she did. And they were amazed at how their bodies ached. You have to squeeze the dough through little openings to make these noodles. The guys were amazed at how tough it was. Rita did it constantly.
Rita's only serious flaw that I knew of was that she was a Bears fan.
She disagreed with me about flag burning, too. I said that it's freedom of speech if you burn your own flag (not someone else's, of course). She didn't like that one bit. She loved the U.S. She lived through the bombings in Germany in WWII as a little girl. She'd tell us stories sometimes.
Rita ran the place, she was Queen of the kitchen. Bill ran the bar. He would come back to the kitchen to complain about something sometimes and she would yell at him and chase him out.
Rita was diabetic. She wasn't a skinny person, so that probably had something to do with it. It killed her to not be able to drink with us, on the pontoon parties particularly.
Picture the scene. Manitowish Waters is a chain of lakes, all connected. Big resort area. You get on a boat and you can cruise the whole thing. We'd load up in the morning and cruise/drink/eat all day. Rita knew people all over the area. So we'd ride our boats over, tie up, and visit. Sometimes we had to make a bathroom stop. We'd hit the beach in a desolate area. Pontoons hit the shore and we're all running off in the woods to piss. Girls, too. Quite a scene.
Anyway, one time Rita did drink too much--not too much to get drunk but enough that she had a problem, a serious one, due to her diabetes. She was pretty delirious. She could have died that day. But, of course, she didn't.
Ehrich's was exactly 34.75 miles from my dad's house. Most of the time I drove it. But when my dad couldn't spare a car, I stayed in Rita's guest house. That's what kind of person she was.
So I'd stay there. Walk and get ice cream between the lunch and dinner shifts. Shoot baskets. Do laundry at the laundromat across the street at night. Lots of swimming, of course.
When I did drive home at night in late August, heading almost due north, I would sometimes see the Northern Lights. Brightness would vary, depending on the night.
From Ehrich's I would go north on W, to Winchester. Pass the Bear Bar. Left (north) on County O. Cross into Michigan onto Chaney Lake Road. Where Chaney Lake Road heads nearly due north, heading home at midnight, pitch dark, trees surrounding both sides of the road...
That's when I'd see the northern lights. Between the trees. Not as bright as some of the pictures you can find online, because maybe I wasn't far enough north. But beautiful nonetheless. They were like wide, watered down, water color brush strokes in the sky. Mostly vertical.
I miss those days.
Finally, whenever I go through a salad bar and I see that they have blue (bleu?) cheese dressing, I still hear Rita's voice saying "stinky cheese dressing." Every time.
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