Richie. Harvey. Max’s on Main.

When the news came out that Richie was selling the building, the sidewalks shifted underneath our feet. It was like that earthquake rumble a couple weeks ago. How could Max’s on Main not be in the red brick building anymore? How could Richie and Harvey not be out there pulling in customers? Observing the people walking by? Making bad jokes to hang in their bathroom and write on the sidewalk sign? Shaking their heads at the drivers from New Jersey making U-turns wherever they wanted?

When the building didn’t sell immediately - it was rumored by be listed for $2 million - it is safe to say that many hoped they would just keep trying to sell it at this number, and not get any takers. But then one day while getting copies made at Accuprint, which is a neighbor of Max’s, the owner Byrdie let me know that the last day for Max’s was April 21, 2024, according to anonymous sources she had. They had sold the building and it was over.

A news article said that Richie wanted to babysit his grandchildren. I texted him to say that I understood his decision. Babysitting pays well. I often get jealous of the cash I hand out to babysitters for watching my own kids, and often think that I should be a babysitter. As an unpaid mother and barely paid blogger, things can get tight.

But didn’t Richie realize that he was acting out of line? He wasn’t supposed to actually sell the building. He was supposed to list it for his dream price, hope for a buyer, and continue serving at Max’s. The building was supposed to be listed forever.

Richie is a gregarious but private person. I never knew where he stood on articles. He might oblige me with information, but never a quote. “I don’t want to upset the apple cart,” he would say. If I had published a tough article on any topic, and I was struggling inside but didn’t tell anyone, Richie knew. He always reached out for a sidewalk chat. Made a bad joke. And closed with: “Keep up the good work.”

When his brother Harvey died suddenly, Richie did not want an article about it. People were already coming in and out of the restaurant, handing him cards, ordering food, hugging him. He didn’t know what to do with so much emotion.

When the Parade of Green rolled around in March, one of his most favorite times, he attended a City Council meeting. As he often does when he wants to speak his mind on a topic. Like he did for when Mayor Kyriacou wanted to zone several buildings on Main Street to be historic. Doing so can make a building harder to sell, because fixing it needs to follow different standards than a regular renovation. The City zoned it over his and Harvey’s objections, yet Richie carried on.

At this City Council Meeting in March 2024, he said he was there to invite everyone to Max’s after the Parade of Green. But that night happened to be a Ceasefire Resolution night, and the courtroom was packed. There happened to be a seat next to me open in the second row. I was sitting in the Anti-Ceasefire section, but I was Pro-Ceasefire. However, I always sit in that seat, next to a power outlet. So I was feeling a little nervous.

Unexpectedly, Richie approached the second row. “Oh!” he said. “She saved a seat for me! Isn’t she nice.” Head-in-hand-emoji. That night, I was wearing my blue PRESS sweatshirt. For those who don’t know, the PRESS sweatshirt from Wear the Peace is symbolic of the Palestinian journalists who have been reporting day after day on the atrocities and murders going on in Palestine. Most of those journalists are dead now. They have been targeted and killed by Israeli IDF forces.

I don’t think Richie knew what the sweatshirt meant, so he “pressed” it. Classic Richie. Being used to this behavior, I told him to graduate from college, and promptly elbowed him in the ribs. Later, when it was my turn to speak, my speech went over the 3 minute mark. But I had a poem I wanted to make sure I delivered, so I kept talking. Mayor Kyriacou graveled me a couple times, and then told me to be done, but I didn’t stop until my poem was done. The Mayor then told the audience that I was “The Rudest Person Yet” as I was walking back to my seat, fumbling over the other people in the second row bench.

I sat down and got my phone out to continue filming the other speakers, and to calm down and stop shaking. Richie turned to me to ask if I was alright. He was shocked. I was shocked. I didn’t answer. I just focused on the speakers. He asked me again if I was alright, and asked again. He wouldn’t stop asking until I answered and gave him a smile. He said “Ok,” and continued listening to the speakers. He never did get to speak that night.

The apartments above Max’s on Main are low income apartments. We don’t know what will happen to those residents. We know what happened to the residents above Joe’s Irish Pub on the other end of Main Street. When that building sold, it was connected to a real estate agent who branded herself as “socially just” in real estate. At least one tenant, the older gentleman named Don who is disabled and nearly deaf, was evicted, despite the good fight he put up with legal assistance. Good Cause Eviction could not save him. Another gentleman Joe, who worked in the kitchen at Max’s, also lived in that building and was being evicted. Both men were paying their rent. But the new landlords wanted higher rent. ALBB has been following their stories for over a year, and will publish on them, knowing that other publications have covered them already.

Everyone is very sad that Max’s on Main has closed. The rumors swirl about a new steakhouse that might replace it. Employees are keeping their ears open to see if any local employment opens up when the new team moves in. We at ALBB wish Richie and his family the very best. And wish Harvey the best because he should have been here. They deserve all of their success and to enjoy retirement.

Photo Credits: Katie Hellmuth, A Little Beacon Blog