Satchel`s Pizza, famous for its friendly folks and dippy design, caught

b
Satchel’s Pizza, famous for its friendly folks and dippy design,
KI]OP\ÅZMWV.MJZ]IZa <PMLIUIOM_I[MVW]OP\W[P]\\PM
XQbbMZQILW_V]V\QT2]VM1V[XQ\MWN \PM[\Z]OOTMIVL[KIZM[
[]ZZW]VLQVO\PMZMJ]QTLQVOXZWKM[[\PMTW^MOQ^MVJaMUXTWaMM[IVL
\PMKWUU]VQ\aQ[TQN\QVO;I\KPMT¼[8QbbINZWUQ\[J]ZVW]\
T
hey say if you can’t take the heat, stay
out of the kitchen. But Satchel Raye
is still fighting to revive his restaurant
even after facing the fire firsthand. He
was eating dinner with his wife, Caroline, his 10-year-old son, Silas, and his
7-year-old daughter, Cada, when he saw the
smoke rising up.
The temperature emitting from one of the
ovens caused sparks to creep up the old, dry,
wood wall. It all went up in flames from there.
Nine years of his life sizzled away in mere
seconds.
“I was here spraying water into the eves,”
Raye said as he recalled that night. “Once the
fire department came in, I knew it was gonna
be bad. It really hit me the next day when I
woke up and realized my restaurant was closed,
24
GAINESVILLE TODAY | MAY 2012
burnt down and flooded with water. I was in
for a huge change.”
His whole routine drastically flipped. He had
to endure the depressing truth: he was jobless.
Instead of making pizza, he had to make phone
calls. Instead of talking to customers, he had
to talk to construction workers.
“There were so many bright sides,” he said.
“No one was hurt. I’m trying to stay positive,
but it’s still so devastating.”
THE DREAM
co
e Velas
Elyse
y Mary
Satchel Raye was 16 years old when he met
his first love.
It was at Gubbio’s, an Italian restaurant close to
his house, where he worked in the back washing
dishes and making sub sandwiches. Eventually, he
made his way up to tossing pizzas. He was hooked.
“I just took to it,” Raye said. “I did it all throughout high school.”
He carried this passion with him after college.
Raye attended the University of Florida for a
few years before he helped the previous owner
of Gubbio’s open another restaurant. There, he
worked as a bow-tied waiter, adding businessfront knowledge to his in-the-kitchen smarts.
This exposure to both sides of the food industry
was motivating for Raye. He wanted to create a place where people could get more than
just a good meal—a place for good times and
good conversations. He wanted to be the home
for birthdays, anniversaries and celebrations.
He wanted his own restaurant.
“I like Gainesville, I like the college town
life,” he said. “I always wanted to open up a
pizza place here. Not a franchise, but something
special. It finally happened after I settled down
and got married.”
What finally happened was Satchel’s Pizza.
But before he was a pizza pro, Satchel Raye
was first and foremost an artist. He turned trash
into treasure, recycling the old and giving it a
new beauty. A collection of lids became moving
mobiles. Paintings and stained glass art filled
his home studio. In his art, he followed one
rule of thumb that his mother taught him: fill
every part of the paper and overload any edges.
Satchel’s Pizza restaurant was just that, a paper
waiting to be filled. His restaurant was not just
a building—it was a quirky sculpture that he
evolved every day. And it was the quirks that
kept people coming back for more.
Strawberry plastic crates became makeshift
chandeliers. Abandoned brick-sized cell phones
lined the walls as décor. Multiple strings of
obsolete cameras hung on shelves to accentuate Satchel’s wacky vibe.
Outside the restaurant, metal tire frames
turned into fences. Tin cans were reshaped into
flower petals. Broken toys, fax machines and
bottles found new life in a giant, cement statue
Raye named the “Fountain of Junk.” There was
enough of this junk for Raye to create a scenic
path, which he called the “Walk of Junk.”
Other things became iconic at Satchel’s,
such as cut-out-face photo ops, a bocce game
court and a little playground with springhorses bought from eBay. A timeworn 70s
van with odd-colored lights is parked next to
the restaurant for a twist in outdoor seating.
All of this strangeness put together is what made
Satchel’s Pizza feel familiar. However, the sight
of an empty Satchel’s and a dining room covered
with tools instead of dishes is not. Everything that
Raye built up is being broken apart and the hardest
part for him is to stand by and watch it happen.
“I like to create things and right now I feel
like I’m just tearing things down,” he said. “I
know it’s gonna be better when it’s done, and
I know people are gonna come back, but it’s
still really hard to start over.”
THE HOPE
Starting over may be overwhelming, but the
incredible response from the community
is allowing Satchel’s Pizza to fight fire with
fire. The fire, in the form of the community’s
compassion, support and sympathy, is fueling
Satchel’s repair.
The Satchel’s Pizza Facebook page flooded
with comments, and cards came in waves
through the mail. In a society dominated by
online media, the fact that people cared enough
to send handwritten encouragements moved
Raye deeply.
One of Raye’s biggest worries was for his
50-employee staff. Without income from the
restaurant, his workers who became his family would not be able to pay for bills and the
families of their own.
To combat this, he opened up a Satchel’s
Pizza Employee Relief Fund on IndieGoGo,
a crowd funding website. Raye set a goal of
trying to reach $20,000 in a two-week period,
wondering if as little as $3,000 could be raised.
That goal was shattered in 24 hours.
By the end of the second week, 700 people
donated a total of $37,696—almost twice the
hoped amount.
“One of my girls started crying when she saw
the big check and bought lunch for the entire
construction crew,” he said. “I don’t think it’s
normal for a restaurant to have that much
support—and it’s not even for the restaurant,
it’s for the employees!”
Pepsi gave Satchel’s Pizza a signed basketball and football to auction off for profits. A
customer saw this and offered his coveted Tim
Tebow-signed football for Satchel’s to auction,
which was worth almost $300.
June may seem far away for Raye and at
times he fears that his favorite customers have
forgotten about Satchel’s, but the overwhelming
support shows that the wonderful experiences
he has given them will always be remembered.
“This is an amazing thing to me because I’m
more of an artist than a businessman. My intentions aren’t to get rich,” Raye said. “I certainly
don’t want money to be the bottom line. My
motivation is to live simply, artistically and to
create an experience.”
GAINESVILLE TODAY | MAY 2012
25