There are some people I know that when I say, “9th & Madison”, they know immediately I’m talking about Vito’s.

For those folks, I also don’t need me to add words like “restaurant” or “bar.” It was just Vito’s.

Back in 1953, Vito Santoro and his brother Jimmie launched an Italian restaurant at the height of the Rat Pack era, with a cocktail culture that reflected the times, along with live music, and East Coast family-style Italian food.

During my University of Washington years, Vito’s wasn’t on my radar. It wasn’t until 1980, when I returned from my 3-year tour of radio duty in Yakima, that my boss–KOMO radio’s Larry Nelson–introduced me to this special place.

Critics of Vito’s complained that it was too dark inside. There were no windows. It was like a gangster’s hideaway.

And perhaps it was.

All I knew was that after working with Larry for a while and getting to know his routine, you could always count on a couple of things. Every weekday morning, he’d introduce Bryan Johnson‘s 15-minute morning report and then dash to the restroom for his morning shave. Another thing locked into his schedule: Fridays at 11:30, the “Family Table” was reserved for him at Vito’s.

I survived a couple of those lunches. It wasn’t a weekly event for me, but my liver still hasn’t forgiven me for the 2-3 times a year I’d join the party. Larry and his posse would sit around a circular table, order food, drink lots of wine and talk about the week or just reminisce about old times. A standard lunch would easily run two hours plus.

And most Fridays, Vito would come out and say hi to the table, sometimes with his wife Mollie, who had stopped by for a visit. 

Interesting to note: while all of his brothers married Swedes, Vito married a Norwegian. Something we have in common!

One Columbus Day, Lar invited me to join him for Vito’s annual fund-raiser at Our Lady of Mount Virgin Catholic Church in what had become known as Seattle’s “Garlic Gulch” neighborhood. It was a benefit for the Jimmie Santoro Scholarship Fund, honoring his brother that he had lost back in 1970. Resembling a scene out of “The Godfather”, I remember Larry pointing a judge over here and a politician over there. That was one of Larry’s favorite films and he quoted it often. For those of you playing Larry Nelson trivia, he claimed that Vito was his actual Godfather!

When KOMO decided to trim me from their budget in 1984 and I headed over the lake to work at KLSY in Bellevue, my visits to Vito’s pretty much stopped. It was a rare treat when I’d meet up with Lar and his gang again at the Family Table.

Staying in touch with Larry over the years, I heard about Vito’s declining health, which eventually forced him to sell the restaurant. Even after he lost both legs to diabetes, Vito would still occasionally sneak in to visit his former restaurant. He passed away in 2000.

A series of new owners came and went. While maintaining the name, it just wasn’t the same vibe. There were redesigns. My God, one owner even had the windows allowing daylight to get in!

In 2010, a couple of guys named Jeff Scott and Greg Lundgren bought this Seattle institution and began a major restoration of the space. For old time’s sake a few years ago, I planned to meet up there with Bruce Johnson, one of Lar’s good buddies, to talk old times. We both arrived, only to find that Vito’s was no longer serving lunch, only dinner.
I’m sure I remember hearing that the restaurant had closed due to a fire last year, but last weekend, when Bruce sent me some photos he had taken of what was once such a majestic place, I had to accept that it’s now just a matter of time before it’s torn down and turned into more apartments or condos.

Such a mighty fall from when it was THE place to be.

Yes, that’s Larry in the back left corner and yes, that IS a gun!

(one way to insure prompt service without tipping)

I feel privileged to have caught this place in the last stretch of its hey days. Besides enjoying that authentic Italian cuisine, I got to get to know Larry’s inner circle—the a fore-mentioned Bruce, Tom, Lloydie, Sol, Doc Peterson, famous Seattle lawyer Al Bianchi, and so many others.

It’s where the “Who’s Who” of Seattle would slip in and out.  Here’s a great collection of stories to illustrate what I mean. There was the naked lady on the tile in the men’s restroom. Here’s another great article that goes deep into the powerful and famous that visited Vito’s.

Besides creating such an amazing atmosphere and iconic restaurant, Vito was best known as someone who just wanted to help people. And, closest to my heart, he was a die-hard Husky Football fan. A team he embraced even before his younger brother Danny played for the Dawgs back in 1949. As a season ticket holder, he attended every home game for 32 consecutive years, his streak only snapped when he was hospitalized in 1979.

I definitely know he’ll be watching tonight when the Dawgs go for their 15th win of the season and a long-overdue solo National Championship

As for the restaurant where so many memories were made, it’s most likely on a fast path to the Seattle history books. Seattle Time’s reporter Bethany Jean Clement wrote a nice article about Vito’s that inspired me to drop her a note. I asked if she could shed any light on any plans for its future. She replied, “I know that some of the furnishings were salvaged, but it does look unlikely to come back as Vito’s, per se… I spent many happy hours there myself! Sigh.”

Vito’s wasn’t where the three-martini lunch was invented, but it was celebrated there daily. Seattle Mayor Charles Royer was known to be a regular. It’s where Royer and Senator Warren Magnuson had dinner to lament Maggie’s loss in a U.S. Senate race to Slade Gorton. When Senator Henry Jackson died, a wake was held for him in the back room. It was the place where Snoop Dogg and Dan Akroyd laughed while sharing a booth in 1999, both in town for the opening of the Experience Music Project. More stories to read here.

However, these days, it looks like this.

If I do an inventory on all the people, places and things I’ve been able to meet and experience over the years, I can’t help but feel incredibly blessed. I especially appreciate those special times I had a front-row seat to everything I saw happen at Vito’s.

But once again, it’s time to say goodbye to something else.

Tim Hunter