I was in Atlanta for work for too long (10 days) at the end of July for the ELC National Session - an annual week-long conference. One of the students, Jerry Liu, was a UCSB friend and we have not seen or spoken with each other for about 10 years. So, we decided to hook up during the week for dinner and catch up.
Our dinner date turned out to be a bit challenging. I postponed to the next day because another student wanted to have dinner with me before she leaves. Then I had to work late and I couldn't leave on time. Finally, at 9:30pm, we met at the hotel lobby and Jerry was calm, gracious, and patience, and Jerry's sister, Erin who was visiting him from New York for the week took charge of finding a place to eat. She said we were going for some Southern BBQ that night at Daddy D's but we would have to take the Marta and it's not too far away.
During our journey to the restaurant, Jerry and I caught up with our lives. I actually knew very little about Jerry during college and only learned so much about him during our trip to the restaurant. Jerry sold Cutco knives started in his sophomore year in college, was the national champion salesman, and worked for Cutco for 8 years recruiting, managing and coaching new salesmen. He's now living and working in Shanghai working for his family's business running a chain of schools in Taiwan and China founded by his father for students with learning disabilities. He and his sister are passionate about his father’s cause to help students overcome their learning disabilities from the theories he has developed since his days as an EdD student, and to follow his father’s footsteps, Jerry is now pursuing his EdD at Fielding. In combination with his business management background at Cutco and his educational experience at Fielding, Jerry is hoping to standardize and streamline his father’s business and write a dissertation on teacher’s pay based on students’ performance.
I didn’t talk much about myself because I was absolutely fascinated by Jerry’s story and I think they were really eager to tell me their story too which caused us to not to pay attention to our way to Daddy D’s. After walking for about 20-25 minutes in a somewhat shady neighborhood and unpopulated streets, I asked to check where we were and realized we might have passed the restaurant. Just as we began to walk back, it started to drizzle so we picked up our steps. Finally, we found this dimly lit hut and realized that was it. It obviously looked closed but determined, Jerry and Erin found the open door and walked in anyway. Once inside, the chairs were stacked up on the tables but there was still a heavy smell of barbecue coming from the kitchen. We begged the waiter to serve us something and 5 minutes later, he came out with 2 heavy boxes or ribs and corn bread for free! Just as we were about to walk out, the manager came in and said it had started to rain hard. It was 11pm and seeing that there was no other cars outside, he asked where we were going and offered us a ride to the Marta station, which is 5 minutes by car but 20 minutes by foot. At first, we hesitated but he smiled and said he wouldn't bite. We looked at each other, took a leap of faith and accepted the good gesture. Shortly after we hopped on the car, the manager said it was 54 minutes until his birthday. We talked casually until we arrived at the Marta station. I don’t think I even got his name. Maybe we did ask for it but I don’t remember anymore.
As soon as we sat down to wait for the train to come, we dived into the boxes. The food was still warm and the cornbread, with full pieces of corn was one of the best I’ve ever had. The meat on the pork ribs pulled right off and the barbecue sauce got the right amount of tang and sweetness. We didn’t have any utensils or napkins but we didn’t care. We sat mostly quietly munching away, licking our fingers, and wiping them on our clothes.
I wanted to remember this night because so many things that happened have led to this spontaneous, adventurous outing. I want to remember the kindness from the people at Daddy D’s and the experience of the real kind of southern hospitality. I want to remember the things I learned from Jerry. What I can’t describe or seem to be able grasp is the meaning from all of this together – a long lost friend found, an intriguing story learned, an act of kindness received, and an unexpected adventure.
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