The news that the historic Neptune Diner has closed brought tears to my eyes. I am certain it brought tears to the eyes of many other Greek-Americans as well.

This restaurant, perhaps due to its location – in the center of Astoria, on Astoria Boulevard, at the entrance to what we know as the Triborough Bridge, now renamed the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge – but also due to its owners, staff, and the food it offered, had become a reference point for the Greek-American community, in Astoria and beyond.

Huge lines would form around it, with Greek-Americans waiting to get in, especially on Fridays and Saturdays after the end of events at the famous entertainment, meeting, and cultural venues on Broadway, such as the Crystal Palace and Oyster Bay, including ‘The Cave’, which was in the basement and hosted big-name singers at the time.

Hundreds of Greek-Americans would go to Neptune after these events to talk, drink coffee, and eat until the early morning hours.

And there, they would be welcomed by the well-known – and forever unforgettable – Spiros Tzanis, one of the owners, a handsome, upright young man with a broad, easy smile, projecting openness, kindness, and hospitality – the face of the restaurant. Hundreds of Greek-Americans worked there over the many decades it operated – cooks, waiters, dishwashers, busboys, cashiers.

Among them, in the cashier position by the entrance, I worked for a while on Fridays and Saturdays, the night shift, from around 7-8 PM until the next morning.

It was the second half of the 1970s, when in my second year as a graduate student at Columbia University’s Business School, I decided I needed to earn my spending money. My parents and sister had given me enough.

The working hours and conditions were ideal. The job was easy and did not coincide with university hours or my various student obligations.

Moreover, it was close to our home in Astoria.

I don’t remember how I found the job, whether it was from an advertisement in the National Herald or from a referral.

I do remember the welcome Spiros gave me at our first meeting for the job interview. I was nervous, anxious. I wanted the job. And what a relief when I saw Spiros’ relaxed, sweet, kind smile.
“You can start immediately,” he said after asking me a few questions.

From that moment, a friendship began that lasted until Spiros left us too soon, but I never forgot him.

“Leave the register – take a mental photo of the register – and let’s go,” he would sometimes say to me. I understood. We were going to the bouzoukia (the Greek nightclubs).

We would get into his huge Lincoln Continental, he would step on the gas, and soon we were in Manhattan, on the west side, where the bouzoukia were. The crowds were such that it would have been impossible for anyone else to get in except Spiros. As soon as they saw him, they opened a path and even seated us at the front tables.

And Spiros, of course, did not leave them empty-handed.

These outings might not have had a direct relation to my MBA studies at Columbia, but they had an indirect relation. I learned how the real economy worked. About worker-employer relations. About the incentives workers need to do their jobs well, etc.

And my friendship with Spiros grew.

Neptune did well for many years after I left. But gradually, it started to decline. The demographics of Astoria began to change. Many Greek-Americans moved to the suburbs. Immigration from Greece almost stopped. The staff was replaced by employees from Latin American countries, who learned to do everything in the kitchen and outside – often as if they were Greek.

Meanwhile, I had bought the newspaper, and whenever I had the chance, I would stop by for a coffee and a burger – which were always amazing – and mainly to reminisce. And, of course, to see Spiros (before and after he passed) and some old colleagues who had remained.

I did this again recently, where – fortunately – I took a photo of the register where I once ‘reigned’.

But everything flows. Everything changes. And certainly, the closing of Neptune marks the end of an era in Greek-American life.

So, somewhere, something else will take its place. New friendships will develop, new memories will be made. A new beginning will happen.

It is inevitable.

Meanwhile, regarding Neptune, I say we thank you for the experiences and memories you gave us. If those who will live in the apartments to be built in your place knew you then, they would feel part of your history. Your Greek-American history.