James Steinhauser was a beloved friend and colleague.
I lost a friend last week and it hurts.
Jim Steinhauser was a month shy of his 89th birthday when he passed March 21 at Bethesda Hospital. We worked together off and on for more than a dozen years, brought together by the master of team building: Carl DeSantis.
We lost Carl in August.
Mr. DeSantis was a legendary entrepreneur and the magical person behind the success of two-multibillion-dollar businesses—Rexall Sundown and Celsius.
Jimmy was at Carl’s side for a big part of the ride. Both figuratively and literally.
Technically, Jimmy was Carl’s driver and all-around helper. But he was much more. Confidant, partner in adventures, researcher, social director, personal shopper, buddy.
Jimmy was front and center in every important meeting and was introduced often as a marketing executive.
He was consulted on everything, which was the Carl way. Mr. D was an inclusive leader and Jimmy was an eager participant and valued contributor.
Carl and Jimmy wandered the Delray/ Boca byways scouting out properties and hunting for opportunities. Those opportunities ran the gamut: billboard locations to promote Celsius and Tabanero Hot Sauce, where to buy comfortable shoes and, of course, the latest nutritional supplements.
Those two were something to behold; one minute they were saying how much they loved each other and the next they were bickering like an old couple. We thought they were endlessly entertaining because they were funny and underneath it all was loyalty, friendship, love, and affection. They were a pair.
In the evenings, Jimmy and Carl would visit their favorite restaurants where they would hold court, trade ideas, tell stories and plan the rest of their week. They were incredibly generous to wait staff and they knew everyone.
I loved being a fly on the wall for scores of these meetings. We laughed, arm wrestled and traded ideas and stories. We dreamed. Together.
We also took some trips: Vegas, New York City, and an arduous Poseidon like boat trip to the Bahamas.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas as they say.
As for that Bahamian voyage, let’s just say there were lots of prayers and texts to loved ones back home as we navigated waves that grow with every telling. We even dodged a plane and some crazy weather on our flight back home. As soon as we landed, the plane broke down. You can’t make it up.
Through it all, Jimmy was a constant.
Always there. Always reliable. Always quick with a joke and always able to share something with you that he just learned.
Now he’s gone. And the world feels a little different, a little emptier without him. That’s how it goes when you lose a friend.
I will note that Jimmy and I were opposites politically and we have different religions.
I mention that not because it was important to us (it wasn’t) but because we live in a time where people are being sorted and divided.
You stay with your kind, and I’ll stay with mine. You are supposed to fear me, and I’m told to fear you.
But none of that mattered with Jimmy. What we had in common and what we liked about each other was paramount.
We shared a love of America. We shared a love of New York.
He was from The Bronx like my parents were. He got a kick out of that connection.
We talked about sports, history and yes religion. He loved golf, listening to services on the radio and was proud of his Hyundai Genesis.
When Carl passed away seven months ago, Jimmy seemed lost.
He retired, but still came by the office in downtown Delray for brief but oh so sweet visits.
When we threw a retirement party for Jim and a beloved colleague he didn’t show. He wasn’t feeling well. We all worried about him.
When we visited him last week at Bethesda to say goodbye, he was wearing a BiPap mask. I recognized it immediately. It’s the same uncomfortable device I wore almost four years ago during my Covid battle. He was tired because it was hard to breathe, and that device is so darn hard to wear. Like putting a hurricane on your face. A hurricane that digs into your cheeks, ears, and the bridge of your nose. I could tell he didn’t like it.
But he lit up when he saw my two companions, wonderful women he worked with for over 20 years.
Jimmy loved these women. And they loved him back. This was the group that brought the word “family” to life in Carl’s family office. They looked out for each other. They are more than co-workers, they are family.
Carl was the catalyst who made this magic happen. We were blessed that he put us together. But nothing lasts forever. That’s a hard lesson to learn. But the finite nature of life makes its impermanence precious. We must strive to savor the moments.
We can always count on change. Death and taxes too.
But death does not end a relationship. The memories and the love endure.
Jimmy loved his CDS family, and we sure loved him.
As I write this, my mind is flooded with stories about this special man who was a constant for years—until today.
People get old, the song says.
People get old.
Love them while you can.
And if you have a chance to say goodbye make sure you do.
We told Jimmy that we loved him while we held his hand and looked into his eyes. We thanked him for his life, for his care and for the laughs. We told him that he was a good man who lived a good life.
And with one last squeeze of his hand, we left the room with faith that we will see him again.
Thanks Christina
The weekend also brought news that a Delray Beach staple, Christina’s in Pineapple Grove will be closing.
I’ve been a customer of Christina Betters for decades…back to the Gleason Street Cafe Days. She runs a great restaurant and Christina’s became a go-to place for countless breakfast meetings. I miss her hospitality and her dog Vinny too.
We are watching a series called “The Bear” which is an inside look at restaurant life. I’m told by people in the business that the show is very realistic. Running a restaurant and having longevity in that industry is truly a remarkable feat. So we wish Christina the best and we wish her some rest as well.
Thank you for years of wonderful hospitality.
Here’s what Christina put on Facebook.
“As I close my doors for the final time, I want to express my deepest gratitude to all of my loyal customers who have supported me throughout the years.
Finally, happy birthday America. Have a safe and wonderful fourth.
