The Sad Cafe
A new job and a drive-in coffee shop.

originally written for CIFlist, November 1999

Last week I started my new job (at a bonafide Internet start-up, how Northwestern!). The office is in Renton, which is about a 40-minute rush-hour commute from my apartment. Every morning I get into my car, drive down I-5, pass the Kingdome and Boeing Field, turn off onto Route 900 for a few miles, and eventually find myself in the heart of Renton. There's not much to it, really: my route takes me past a strip of supermarkets and chain stores, through a dilapidated downtown area, and finally to the old City Hall building. My employers have leased out three floors of the building and filled them with computer programmers, licensing agents and web entrepreneurs. I like my co-workers, and so far my job seems to be manageable.

A few days ago, I noticed a drive-through espresso stand on my route called "Andy's Place." It was a small yellow shack tucked away in a little corner of the Safeway parking lot. Drive-through coffee shops are one of the perks of living in the Pacific Northwest, I've found; there are three in my neighborhood alone. I pulled up, ordered a grande café Americano, took an "Andy's Club" card ("12th Cup is Free!"), and went to work.

That night, on the way home from Safeway, Callie noticed the card tucked away in one of the cup holders. She brought it upstairs and asked me, "Did you read this?" I hadn't; I just kind of threw it aside.

On the back of the "Andy's Club" card was a head shot of a young man. He was dressed in formal wear, looking a little stiff and uncomfortable and very young. Below the picture it said, "Andreau 'Andy' Michael Cook: 1973-1996." To his right it said this:

   "Our beloved son Andy was abducted from his Tukwila espresso stand on April 5, 1996 and murdered. His body was recovered from where he had been dumped over the side of a bridge near Enumclaw. His abductor(s) abandoned and burned his car behind the Benson Plaza Fred Meyer in Renton. If you have any information about the death of our son, please call 911 and report it to the Tukwila police.
   "Andy's Place is a tribute to our son.
   "We miss you son."

I felt a chilling sadness as I read and absorbed this. I mean, their son worked at an espresso stand, where he was abducted and murdered. The parents responded by opening up their own espresso stand in his honor - a business that, I realized with horror, happens to be across the street from a Fred Meyer store probably not too dissimilar to where the police found Andy's charred car. I've stopped at Andy's Place every morning this week, and each day I've noticed more small details about the place. Inside the small hut, for instance, there are pictures of Andy from various stages of his life, and framed embroidered messages of hope and comfort. And in the windows there are placards for D.A.R.E. and survivors' organizations.

I can't help but wonder how Andy's parents are dealing with their grief, and whether their business and location was helping them make sense of a senseless situation or punishing them further. Certainly the woman (a relative? his mother?) who took my order didn't seem out of sorts. Maybe it was helping her to serve coffee to commuters and spread the word about Andy's legacy. We all have our own ways of processing our grief - when my dad died, I spent years in denial. Still, what a sad and tragic genesis for a coffee shop. I've barely stopped thinking about it since I got a good look at my Andy's Club card.

Epilogue 12/2004:  I wrote the above for the now-inactive CIF mailing list.  Some months afterward - during which I'd stopped by Andy's Place almost every day on my way to work - a relative of the Cooks found it online and sent me a thank you note.  A few days later, there was a hand-drawn sign on the drive-through window that said

THANK YOU -
MIKE

I was stunned.  That may have been the best feedback I've ever received for my writing.  I continued to buy my coffee at Andy's until getting laid off from that job in 2001, but I never introduced myself.  That would have just been too awkward.

Andy's Place closed down a year later, and the the neighboring auto dealership knocked down the stand so they could expand their parking lot.  Progress, eh?  I often wonder what the Cooks are doing now, and if they've ever found peace.  I sure hope so.