At age 22, an impromptu visit to his sick uncle in Vancouver in 1982 changed George Hatsispiru’s life.
“I was still a kid, still a young guy; you don’t know what life’s about,” says Hatsispiru.
In a moment, he went from recently finishing a mandatory stint in the Greek army and learning mechanical engineering to meeting his wife and having a child.
“You get pregnant, that’s it, my life’s over; I stay behind, I raise my kid, I have one more on the way and buy a home,” chuckles the now 55-year-old, known to many in Steveston as the founder of George’s Taverna on Moncton Street.
He made Steveston his home. But now, Hatsispiru will return to his other “home.”
A few things appear to be evident of Hatsispiru: He’s a hard worker, sympathetic and says it like it is.
Raising his kids (and eventually helping them through university), he normally worked two jobs — one in a kitchen and another in construction. He says he took after his dad who worked in German mines for the first nine years of Hatsispiru’s life.
“I take nothing, I do everything with my hands,” he says.
Another accomplishment for Hatsispiru was how he learned English through his surroundings (unable to afford classes).
He says he enjoyed Richmond because of its diversity — something he says is being lost.
He questions whether he could assimilate here so easily again.
“I came here and saw English and French. Now it’s half English and half Chinese. Where did French go?” he ponders.
Hatsispiru says he lives by a few simple rules.
“I learn one thing in life; do not discuss with friends: politics, religion and sports. Everyone has their own mind. What’s right or what’s wrong?” asks the Olympiacos Piraeus (soccer) fan.
He sold his restaurant four years ago after building the now iconic sidewalk boat and planting the grape vine along the street in 1998.
Now, he plans to return to the small town in Crete where he and six siblings grew up. A car enthusiast, he’ll be shipping his old Thunderbird to the island.
There — alongside his mom, 83 and dad, 82 — he will start up a small, seasonal burger shack, which will be a sort of symbolic gesture to his life.
“The sad thing is, [when] I’m here, I’m Greek; [when] I’m there, I’m Canadian. So really where’s my home?
“The middle of the Atlantic,” he jokes.
While Hatsispiru worked hard to help his family, the stress of owning and running a restaurant led to a divorce in 2003.
And so, he now yearns for a simpler life.
“Anything I sell through my business will be my own growing. …I don’t want to go big. If I make 100-150 Euros a day, that’s all I want. Lots of sun, blue water, beaches, mom and dad as long as they’re alive.”
