As I sit down to reflect on the recent passing of Addy Sulley, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the way he shaped our little corner of the world here in Greenville, SC. Addy wasn’t just a restauranteur; he was a builder of community. Through Addy’s Dutch Café and Hans & Franz Biergarten, he gave us more than just places to grab a bite—they were third places, those rare and vital spots where people could come together, unwind, and connect. For me, these spaces hold a special significance: it’s where I met my wife on our first date and where the idea for Beer and Napkins first took root. Addy’s legacy reminds me of what sociologist Ray Oldenburg once wrote in The Great Good Place: “Third places are the heart of a community’s social vitality and the grassroots of a democracy.”

I’ll never forget the warmth of Addy’s Dutch Café that night I met my wife. The soft glow of the lights, the hum of friendly chatter, and the cozy, unpretentious vibe made it feel like the perfect place for a beginning. It was the kind of spot where you could linger, where nobody rushed you out the door, and where you felt like you belonged. Years later, that same space became the launchpad for Beer and Napkins—an initiative born from the belief that great ideas often spark in casual, communal settings over a pint or a plate. Addy’s restaurants weren’t just buildings; they were the backdrop for life’s big moments, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way.

So, what’s a third place, anyway? Oldenburg describes them as the essential hangouts beyond home (our first place) and work (our second place)—spots where we can relax, swap stories, and build relationships without pretense. Addy’s places nailed that concept. Whether you were sipping a beer at Hans & Franz or enjoying a quiet meal at the Dutch Café, you were part of something bigger. It didn’t matter if you were a regular or just passing through; Addy had a way of making everyone feel welcome. His restaurants weren’t about fancy decor or trendy menus—they were about the people who filled them, the laughter that echoed, and the sense of togetherness that lingered long after you left.

That spirit of connection is what inspired Beer and Napkins. Addy’s venues showed me that some of the best ideas don’t come from stiff boardrooms or rigid schedules—they come from the kind of easy, human interactions that happen in third places. Beer and Napkins took that lesson and ran with it, turning pubs and cafes into hubs for creativity and collaboration. In a way, Addy’s influence is woven into every meeting we’ve held, every napkin scribbled with a new idea. His spaces proved that when you bring people together in the right environment, good things happen—whether it’s a love story or a brainstorm session.

Now, as we say goodbye to Addy, it’s hard not to feel the weight of his absence. Greenville won’t be the same without him. But his legacy? That’s not going anywhere. Through the third places he created, Addy gave us more than just memories—he gave us a blueprint for community. He showed us how a simple café or biergarten could become a cornerstone, a place where friendships blossomed, ideas flourished, and people found a sense of home away from home. His passing leaves a hole, no doubt, but it also leaves behind a gift: the reminder that connection matters, and that the spaces we share can change lives.

Rest in peace, Addy. Your restaurants were more than just places—they were where we found each other, where we grew, and where we became better. Your spirit lives on in every conversation started and every bond forged within those walls. We’re all richer for it, and we’ll carry your legacy forward with every gathering we hold. Thank you for everything.