Beloved Lodi legend passes away at age 88
Socrates Papadimatos was a proud American, never passing up a chance to show his gratitude for his adopted country. Every Independence Day, he decorated his property just outside Lodi with dozens upon dozens of American flags.
But he never forgot his Greek roots, either. He was always happy to share stories of the island where he grew up.
“God bless America ... and the Greeks!” was one of his famous lines, his family said.
A local legend, “the boy from Cephalonia” — best known in Lodi as Socrates — passed away on Sept. 24 at the age of 88. He left behind his wife Lenna, son Mark, daughters Taysie and Ava, eight granddaughters and seven great-granddaughters.
He was preceded in death by his daughter Revecca Duffy.
While his family is mourning their loss, they’re also celebrating his life and the role he played in theirs.
“We know he’s in a good place,” Lenna said.
Born on the Greek isle of Cephalonia, Papadimatos traveled to America after years of turmoil in the southern European nation. World War II and the Nazis were followed by a communist uprising.
His father told Socrates and his brother that they should leave and try to make a better life elsewhere. At 18, Socrates found a job as a cook’s helper on a freighter bound for New York in 1948.
It would spark one of his life’s joys: cooking. Family was the other.
In Lodi, Socrates was known as “the Bread Man” as much as “the Flag Man.” A generous man, he was happy to spread his talents to local businesses, often walking in with a box or two full of bread, pastries, and fruit from the trees on his farm.
“I can smell the bread right now,” said Marina Narvarte, who worked at the Mokelumne Federal Credit Union near General Mills, a frequent stop for Socrates.
Everyone at the branch loved him, and Narvarte was always impressed by his love for his adopted country and pride in his heritage. He was also proud of his family, and loved to talk about them.
“He just had a passion for giving back to the community,” she said.
Narvarte now works at the Lodi District Chamber of Commerce, where CEO and president Pat Patrick was also saddened to hear of Lodi’s loss.
“He was a very, very genuine and kind man. He loved people,” he said.
The staff at La Petite, another regular stop, were saddened to hear the news of Socrates’ passing.
“He always used to bring us in stuff from his bakery. His bread’s probably the best in town, or anywhere,” said Rachel Engel, who works at the preschool. “All of our staff liked him a lot. He was pretty sweet.”
Socrates loved to drop in uninvited in his granddaughter’s classroom, daughter Ava said, bringing bread and treats for her to share with her classmates.
“He was a guy who did whatever he wanted, and he got away with a lot of stuff, all good,” she said with a laugh. “People loved him.”
He was a frequent visitor to the News-Sentinel as well.
“We loved Socrates. He was always so encouraging and cheerful. When he walked into the newsroom, he immediately brightened our day,” former Editor Rich Hanner said.
He brought his famous bread pudding, cakes, fresh fruit and other treats. He’d also spend some time shaking hands and chatting with the reporters and other staff.
“His enthusiasm and generosity were infectious. He always wanted to chat and know how things were going, and he always had some bread or other treat to share,” former news editor Matt Wilson said.
When Hanner asked him why he gave so much to the newspaper, he simply said the work they did was important.
“He was very generous like that. He was always thinking of others first,” said son Mark, who happily served as Socrates’ “chauffeur” when his father could no longer drive himself.
“That was his legacy around town,” his daughter Ava added.
But long before he was the Bread Man, he was a young, illegal immigrant from Greece, working for $2 a day as a dishwasher in Norfolk, Va.
He worked to learn English and gain his citizenship as quickly as possible, but those first few years were difficult, Mark said. Still, his father was smart and resourceful.
One time, he said, immigration officials caught up to Socrates at the restaurant where he was working.
“He said, ‘OK, let me just get my stuff,’” Mark said. Then he climbed out of a window. “I don’t know how long they waited.”
He had a talent for cooking, and picked up a lot of the skills he needed along the way. Soon, he was in high demand as a New York chef, cooking for night clubs and restaurants on Long Island, including Guy Lombardo’s in Freeport.
For Socrates, the first time he saw Lenna, he fell for her — hard.
Lenna’s brother had traveled to Greece and married a woman there. His new wife happened to have grown up near Socrates, and the two had been childhood friends. So when the married couple stopped in New York on their way back to Lodi, they paid Socrates a visit.
At some point, Lenna’s brother showed him her picture.
“When it came time to go, he said, ‘I need that picture back, of my sister,’” Lenna said.
Socrates refused.
“I’m going to marry her,” he said.
Lenna, then 16 and growing up in Lodi, had other plans at first. She finished school, got a job on an Air Force base, and moved to Sacramento with friends.
But Socrates kept asking after her.
“He was relentless,” she said, laughing at the memory. They married 63 years ago. “I was never sorry, and I don’t think he ever was either,” Lenna said.
By then, Socrates had become a U.S. citizen. The couple didn’t have a lot of money, but Socrates worked as a chef in San Diego before the pair moved to the East Coast, where he continued to hone his skills.
Soon, he and his son owned the famed Antrim Lodge in Roscoe, New York. Socrates managed the kitchen while Mark kept the hotel and downstairs dining room running. The lodge was a favorite for hunters and fishermen.
“We would get up every fishing season and go serve coffee,” Ava said. The fishermen all appreciated it. They also appreciated her father’s ouzo, a Greek alcoholic drink most had never tried before.
Socrates served some wellknown guests while he ran the lodge, from newsmen Dan Rather and Charles Kiralt to U.S. senators.
In 1984, the Antrim Lodge hosted a fundraiser for the Beaverkill River. When organizers told him the guests of honor would be former President Jimmy Carter and his wife Rosalynn, Socrates refused to charge them for
the event.
“I told them it was my honor to have a president come to my lodge,” he told the NewsSentinel in 2003.
Socrates was a wonderful role model and father, his children all agreed. He taught them the value of hard work, and to never expect anything to be given on a silver platter.
“He used to say, ‘Don’t give 100 percent, give 110!’” Ava said.
While she and her siblings never wanted for anything, they were expected to work hard as well. Ava, for example, became his assistant in the kitchen.
The kids always struggled to keep up with her energetic father, she added.
Socrates shared other lessons, too.
“He always taught me to be kind to people, and don’t judge people for what they look like. We’re all from other countries and we’re all immigrants, so there’s not one type of American,” Mark said.
He had a great sense of humor, too, his children shared.
“When Socrates was young, he was very strong,” Mark said. Someone told him he should take up boxing, so he went to a gym. It went well when he was punching the bags, so they had him get in the ring. He and the trainer circled for a couple of minutes.
“All of a sudden, he said, ‘No, no, stop. I can’t be a boxer. I’m getting dizzy!’” Mark said.
He told their sister recently that he’d named her after the pet goat he had as a child in Greece, Ava said. Animals are very important there, especially to the people who depend on them for their livelihood.
“We were like, ‘What? What was I, the horse?’” she said.
Several years ago, the family had gone to a Chinese food buffet in Stockton for some kind of family celebration, Lenna said. Partway through the meal, they heard a commotion. The restaurant’s manager was yelling at a waitress after a group had skipped out on their bill. It would come out of her salary, he said.
“This waitress was crying and crying,” Lenna said.
Socrates had gotten up to refill his plate, and the commotion calmed down. He returned to the table and they were all eating when the waitress came over.
She wanted to thank him. He’d paid the thieves’ bill.
“That was Socrates,” Lenna said.