Jack
Connors doesn’t need me to eulogize him. His passing made headlines
in the local newspapers and nightly news. At the end of this, I will link to his obituary for those who might have no idea who he is.
In
short, he was a legend in Boston-based advertising and a dominating
force in philanthropy for decades. Money, fame, respect, he had it
all. So no, Jack doesn’t need me to eulogize him. So I’m not
going to.
Instead what I am going to do is tell a little story
about the Jack Connors that I knew and that I owed so much to.
My
first introduction to Jack occurred in 2006. He had a summer home
near the Marshside Restaurant where I had worked in Dennis on Cape
Cod for years. Jack was a frequent patron of our rustic but beloved
establishment. It was a homey place with delicious food that ran the
gamut from pancakes and lobster rolls to prime rib and turkey clubs.
We had a staff that was more like family, many of us working together
for ten or more years.
Closing time at the original Marshside
I describe the Marshside in this way not
just because it’s how I feel, but because it’s how Jack felt.
This came into play when the opportunity came for him to buy the
restaurant.
Now, I was not privy to why Marylou who had owned
it for decades was selling. I knew our building needed a good amount
of work. We sometimes skated by on inspections due to people knowing
people. And don’t get me started about our barn across the parking
lot which doubled as a prep room and food storage area. That being
said the restaurant was always immaculately clean and we all took
great pains to keep things that way on the inside even if the outside
looked like it might fall over.
Whatever her reason was Marylou
and Jack made a deal in 2007. He would buy the Marshside and be
essentially a silent owner while Marylou continued to run the
day-to-day operations. Whether it had been dire straits for the
business or not it would continue on thanks to Jack.
This is
where the true measure of who Jack was as a person became apparent to
us who worked there.
The staff was told by Marylou of the
plans. The Marshside was being sold to Jack with her staying on in
basically a General Manager role. We would close at the end of
August. After that, the rustic clam shack was to be torn down with a
new more modern restaurant arising in its place in time for the
following summer.
Some of the crew from those final days of the original Marshside
We made plans for a big final shindig at the
old Marsh. Everything must go. We closed that night for service and
then ate, drank, were merry, and took nearly everything that wasn’t
nailed down. I still have counter chairs and glass fish plates kids
used to this day. We also took food and of course booze(open bottles
only). I mean hey it was going to be thrown away right? I only took a
bottle of Jack Daniels.
The next week all that was left of the
Marshside was a hole in the ground. Even the barn that had served as
our prep room and food storage area was torn down.
But what of
us? What of the loyal staff?
Before we left on the day that
Marylou had first announced the sale of the restaurant she asked me,
and several others if we planned on coming back when the new place
opened. I said yes. That is when my mind was blown.
She told me
that the plan was for Jack to pay me, full-time, for the entire time
the restaurant was being rebuilt. I was to be paid to stay at home.
Out of sheer kindness and respect this man who didn’t know us
really, or owe us anything, was going to spend likely what amounted
to easily over six figures to keep us on for when the new Marshside
opened.
Standing in the hole where the Marshside once stood
He didn’t have to do that. Jack could have easily let
us all go and brought in his own staff. He surely knew some heavy
hitters in the Boston restaurant scene that could have helped launch
his new venture. But no, he lived up to his word.
I was paid a
40-hour salary for what ended up being nine months. Nine. Months.
This allowed me the opportunity to write several books and
spend countless afternoons at the Cape Cod Community College library.
This was thanks to Jack.
Now, don’t get me wrong, as much as I
knew it would end I had days where I wished I could just live the
life of a writer getting paid and hanging out in the library. When
the time came to reopen in June I was there.
I vividly remember
sitting in the sparkling new restaurant with the rest of the crew.
Jack held court and gave us the rundown of what was to happen from
that moment on. He also explained why he undertook this endeavor.
In
what I would come to really appreciate Jack gave a very dry humorous
explanation. He said he was looking for new ways to lose money. We
had no idea at the time that it had already cost him several million
dollars to go from a clam shack to a modern casual dining
establishment. Sure it hardly made a dent in his overall wealth, but
that’s a large chunk of change.
I cannot say for sure but I
believe it took at least a few years for the restaurant to turn a
profit for Jack.
We on the staff definitely
earned some of the money Jack had paid during the time off during
those first weeks of reopening. I know that I worked 110 hours in
that first week alone. That’s no typo, and that was a lot of
overtime. Roughly 8am to 11pm, give or take, every day. Still, we did
it because it was our form of payback for Jack’s confidence in us.
Then came a hard left turn. In the spring of 2010 Marylou, our
leader, our guiding light, and one of the hardest-working people I’ve
ever known, suddenly passed away. This took Jack from a silent owner
to having to be right on the front lines. There is no way it was what
he wanted or expected, but he did it out of respect for Marylou.
 |
| Before opening at the new Marshside |
The 2010 season was tough, but we all banded together and made it
through for Marylou. After that though, after the care and respect
that Jack showed us. After he continued the Marshside when he could
have easily said ‘This isn’t working for me,’ and sold it or
closed it. I can only speak for myself but I know I stayed to return
the favor of respect to Jack.
Despite being worth a staggering
amount of money. Despite being known and respected throughout the
country. Despite having the option to be the stereotypical ‘rich
man’ Jack went the opposite way. He would come into the restaurant
through the kitchen like the staff, making a point to shake hands or
hug everyone he crossed paths with.
Jack would make you feel
important when he had no obligation to. He did it because he was a
decent human. He wasn’t born rich and I think that helped him
remember that we all are humans doing the best we can to navigate
through life.
I ended up staying working in the kitchen at the
Marshside for much longer than I intended to. This boiled down to two
things. One was my true and honest feelings that those I worked with,
especially those I worked with for many years, were family and I owed
it to them. The second thing was the gratitude to Jack.
I don’t
know if the Marshside needed saving when he bought it. If it did or
didn’t the bottom line is that it is still going strong today
because of the work and the money he put into it. His legacy is so
far beyond rebuilding the Marshside, but to me, that is his defining
achievement because it affected me personally.
I kept my job
because of Jack. I was paid, full-time, to sit at home for nine
months because of Jack. I learned that wealth doesn’t have to make
you a cold and uncaring person because of Jack. I called him Mr.
Connors the first time I met him but he softly insisted I call him
Jack.
I was honestly surprised at how much hearing that he had
died hit me, but I shouldn’t have been. Just how he approached us
in the days after Marylou’s death earned him all of the loyalty and
respect I could offer.
There are so many who knew Jack far
better than me. He had a wonderful family, at least who I met, and my
heart goes out to them, especially his wife Eileen. Like I said at
the top, Jack Connors doesn’t need me to eulogize him, and his
family doesn’t need me to either. That being said it can’t hurt
for them to hear how Jack positively affected me, and I’m just some
random line cook who happened to work at his happiest ‘money loser’
that he had.
I will end this off by simply saying thank you Jack
for everything. You lived a great and important life sir, rest in
peace.
 |
| c. Camp Harbor View.org |
