WORLD'S LEADING INTERNSHIP PROGRAM

Paul's Eulogy

From the funeral service in New York

Insalata di Frutta di Mare

I was in a wonderful spot to know who Beth Lochtefeld was. I met her working in DeMarco's restaurant on Nantucket Island 25 years ago, where I was a busboy to her waitress. My name was Paolo, and she was Betty, which was short for Bettina. Later I would become a waiter along side her, and ultimately I was the restaurant manager, and she worked for me. It's rare that you get to know someone this way in life - as a boss, a colleague and an employee. We went on to become dear friends, and she was a major fan of my children, an investor in my company, and a life-long conspirator with me in what we called the General Pursuit of Very Good Wine.

But at that time, back at Demarco, Beth was already the best waitress there ever was, and everybody knew it. She was the top tips earner 9 out of 10 nights, every summer. She could remember more, deliver more and clear more dishes than anybody. And she did it all with an alacrity that made her colleagues wonder, "how does she do it?", and what motivated her to do it so well. Amazingly, whenever the idea of not pooling the restaurant's tips was brought up, which meant having each waitperson, in effect, work for his or herself, Betty would always shoot the idea down as counter-productive to good service.

This was like a politician refusing a huge infrastructure project in her own state, because it didn't make sense for the whole country. That's how unlikely Betty was. She was a prime-mover for team building.

To hear her deliver the desert selection was to receive a tutorial in direct sales and personal persuasion that most people simply surrendered to. It was unbelievable. She would cram every dessert name into Italian- no matter how un-suited, thanks to our little dictionary. I remember her rendition of our Blueberry pie especially - "Blubacca Cassis Timballo" - she would say, and you would be powerless not to order it. But, Beth's persistent up-beat nature was always legendary, it hasn't become so just recently.

We all went to Manhattan with Don DeMarco to open up a new restaurant in 1983, on Third Avenue. Beth and I worked there for a spell and started nosing around for other careers that might be hiding here in the city. At one point, I responded to an ad in the NYT, placed by a small Architecture firm. I met them and I liked them very much, but I thought it wasn't for me. In talking about the company later with Beth I urged her to meet the people to see what she thought. The job was expediting plans through the building department, which was ultimately the business of CODE the company she co-founded.

But, at this time, it was just a great big mess and anybody building anything in NYC had to deal with this enormous bureaucracy, always on a time schedule with the weight of money pressing on every issue. In short, it was a perfect opportunity to introduce Customer Service, Betty-Style. I was not there when she brought her first "to do" List to the Buildings Department but I know she immediately upgraded the quality of the work that was done, and the atmosphere that prevailed on both sides of the counter.

And so she was a waitress all over again. We often commented to each other about how Life was like waiting tables. I remember her saying as much. "Ya, know, Paolo," she said of the people in the building permit process, "they're just like grumpy diners waiting for their appetizers. If you convince them it's coming and that you're in control, and you make them comfortable while they wait, they can feel better right away".

What a gift she had to see the truth of things, and see through the things that didn't matter.

Paul Savage