In Memory of Jim Haynes

I wrote this article after visiting one of Jim’s famous Sunday suppers. It’s from a collection of stories on food events organized by people who care about their communities. I’m publishing it here today as a memory of Jim, a wonderful man whose made so many lives of people so much more memorable. Rest in peace.

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Every Sunday at 8 pm since the late seventies on a dreamy Parisian street, the door at a backyard maisonette in the 14th district flies open every couple of minutes. At peak times, every couple of seconds. The warm light shines through the large windows. The mood rises as guests from all around the world flock in through the leafy backyard to attend one of Jim Haynes’ Sunday suppers. They cheerfully, and sometimes maybe a little nervously, greet the host and hand over an envelope with €30.

“You’re Marie? Oh, Marie from Toulouse?” Jim or his assistant asks (Note: Jim has gotten much older and doesn’t always welcome the guests himself anymore.) They tell the new incomers who else is there that they might have something in common with and should meet.

“Sometimes you have people sit next to each other and they just won’t talk. How stupid is that? They won’t talk, so you have to introduce them! The most wonderful thing is a person’s name. When people hear, ‘Marie, I want you to meet David,’ they’ll immediately start talking. Once you introduce people, they’ll end up chattering the whole evening away. How wonderful!”