Archived Article By Tom Fitzmorris Originally published August 23, 2007 Harry Tervalon, Greatest Waiter In New Orleans History, Is Off To The Ball Park After a year-long battle with cancer, Harry Tervalon died at home last night. He was eighty-seven. Now, that is the end of an era. For most of the long history of the Camellia Grill, Harry was the lead waiter on the swing shift. His infectiously happy personality and relentless bonhomie made him the most popular waiter ever to work in any New Orleans restaurant. I was lucky enough to have been a very regular customer at the Camellia Grill during Harry's heyday, in the 1960s and 1970s. I was one of many people who would let others go ahead of us in line so we could get one of the stools that Harry served (most of the right-hand side of the counter). Not only did he get the food out with snap and exactitude (the cooks knew better than to hand off anything less than perfection to Harry), but he was so entertaining that you went to all that trouble as much to listen to him as to be fed by him. That was true even if you'd heard all his patter before. How it was chilly in Gentilly, two below in Tupelo, and that kind of thing. His most famous tale concerned his seemingly unlikely fanship for the Yankees. "The reason I pull for the Yankees is that they tore down the house I grew up in to build Yankee Stadium. But lately they're doing so bad that they're talking about tearing the stadium down and putting my house back up!" His trademark good-bye was, "Okay, Champ, see you at the ball park!" On top of all that was a positive attitude that never quit. The only discouraging word I ever heard from Harry was, toward the end of his career (at an age when most other waiters would have long since given it up), that his knees were hurting. Big deal--he got them fixed. His house was badly flooded by the hurricane. Big deal--we'll fix that, too. (And he did.) Although he retired in the 1990s, Harry remained visible at the Camellia Grill, showing up for anything special. He was present there in April, when the iconic Riverbend diner reopened for the first time since Hurricane Katrina. It wouldn't have been right without Harry's smile beaming over the place. I learned about Harry's leaving us from his son, Harry Tervalon, Jr., an attorney and former New Orleans policeman. He kept me up on his dad's condition for months, and always included these words in his messages: "He was the finest man I've ever known." Lots of people who didn't have Harry as a father felt the same way about him. We will not see his like again. Except, of course, in that Big Ball Park In The Sky. © 2007 Tom Fitzmorris. All rights reserved. news@nomenu.com