It resembled a reunion of family and
friends at the Book Court last Tuesday, as a jovial crowd of about 80 gathered
for a reading of Tim Sultan’s memoir ‘Sunny’s Nights: Lost and Found at a Bar
on the Edge of the World.’ Stemming from Sultan’s years as a bartender at Sunny’s
Bar, Red Hook’s legendary waterfront speakeasy, the book is an homage to a bar
and place from a time otherwise long past and a portrait of the bar’s owner,
Antonio Balzano, otherwise known as Sunny.
Tim Sultan first came upon Sunny’s in
1995, whilst soul-searching in the neighborhood and thirsting for a drink. Family-owned
and operated for more than a century, Sunny’s is known for attracting an
eclectic cast of customers—from artists to dock workers to nuns and mobsters,
or anyone else in search of a far-flung place and time. When Sultan entered
those doors more than twenty years ago, he immediately knew he had found a new
home. What he came upon, as described in the book, is a dark room filled with
maritime relics and a conglomeration of quietly drinking men, their gazes fixated
upon a movie screen where a rendering of Martha Graham’s Appalachian Spring was being projected.
Not what he had expected.
Sultan quit his office job soon thereafter
to work as bartender at Sunny’s full-time. The friendship that developed
between bartender and owner, and the experiences Sultan encountered during this
time, form the backbone of this memoir.
At Book Court
on Tuesday, in fedora-style hat, white dress shirt, blazer and sneakers, Sunny himself
made a striking presence. Taking a front-row seat, he chuckled audibly and
applauded—along with the rest of the audience—as Sultan and Bob Cole engaged in
a dramatic reading of excerpts from the book, with Cole bringing to life
Sunny’s words. (“This is not rated G,” said Sultan, before commencing.) Sunny
gently bubbled with laughter as Cole and Sultan revived one of the many
instances where he took liberties as mixologist—presenting a burlermaker (aka
boilermaker) that consisted of one-to-one volumes of whiskey and beer.
At the end of
the reading of this heartfelt memoir—a humoristically-told tale of a distant corner of New York City where
unlikely lives intersect and make a home—“It’s the truth,” quietly rang
forth from Sunny’s front-row seat as the audience applauded.
After a brief Q & A, Sunny took to the
podium once more to thank everyone for making the bar into what it is today and
for bringing the past to the present and resurrecting memories from yesterday.
“All of a sudden, what was yesterday is today,” said Sunny. And in a circular
play on words that brought the room into laughter: “I thank once again all of
you for being part of what it is at the bar that is part of what it is at the
bar that is. […] I think at this breath if I continue to continue...,” he
trailed off softly with a tip of the hat as he returned to his seat.
A line formed quickly thereafter, snaking
along the bookstore perimeter, for book purchases and signings by Sultan and
Sunny. Sunny stuck around. Audiences mingled. The reunion continued.
