He went there for one reason:
to bring Mickey back to Michigan,
back to his home, back to sani-
ty, back to safety.
"There I was, 30 years old, and
I had been living the high life and
I had to move back into my par-
ents' house, unable to do any-
thing," he says. "But that's when
it all started. That's when I be-
gan the journey to recovery."

M

ickey Bakst was certain
of one thing: he did not
belong with this odd as-
sortment of people.
He was sitting in an Alcoholics
Anonymous meeting, his first,
looking around the room. He won-
dered, "Who are these people?"
They're talking and talking and
talking "and you don't believe a
word they say."
Sobriety? Come on. Mr. Bakst
was certain each and every one
was taking a drink on the sly.
It took about six months before
it began to make sense.
At first, all Mr. Bakst could
think of was how much he would
like to get hold of a bottle.
"At every street corner you
hear some drug calling your
name, telling you to come and get
it," he says. "Every time you get
hold of the steering wheel you're
squeezing so tight your knuckles
get sore, just to stop you from do-
ing that."
A few times, Mr. Bakst did give
in. But he never stopped going to
AA meetings. He was determined
to make it not only for himself,
but because he would not put his
family through the suffering
again.
"Like any relationship, my par-
ents and I had our ups and
downs," he says. "But I realize
now that they did all the right
things, and I take pride in saying
that today we're the best of
friends. I owe them my life more
than once. I have been blessed."
The drug cravings continued,
as did Mr. Bakst's refusal to give
into them. To keep occupied, "I
went to coffee with AA people,
went to lunch with AA people, sat
on my hands, ate a lot of ice
cream."
The cravings stopped because
Mr. Bakst decided he "truly want-
ed to live. That's the first step to-
ward recovery: deciding to live."
Not that he is isn't still afraid
at times.
"If you become confident you'll
never drink, you'll lose your
guard," he explains. "I've gone
through periods where I've felt in-
credibly comfortable, and times
I've felt precariously close to the
edge."
It's especially tempting to take
a drink at work, where bottle
upon bottle of fine wine sits ele-
gantly stacked near the front
doors of Tribute Restaurant in

Farmington Hills, where Mr.
Bakst serves as maitre d' and
general manager.
"There are many times I fan-
tasize about taking just a taste,"
he says. "Or maybe I'll go home
and dream I can socially sip wine
with each course of a meal."
He lights a cigarette.
Mr. Bakst is in love with Trib-
ute, in love with the whole restau-
rant business. "It's my life, my
passion," he said. "What you see
when you see me work is who I
am. All I want to do is run a din-
ing room — that's it."
After returning to Michigan
and getting on track with AA, Mr.
Bakst held several jobs, then
went out on the road again. He
calls it "my wandering," and it
took him to Arizona, Alaska,
Florida. Often, he worked as a
waiter.
"Waiters always have been
looked on as second-class citi-
zens," he says. "In Europe, it's a
different story.
`They're the people who make
a restaurant work. They have to
know about food, spices, textures,
wine, grape varieties and, most
important, how to read people."
By 1986, he had returned to
Michigan, settling in Charlevoix,
where he ate "one of the most in-
credible meals of my life." The
restaurant was Tapawingo.
Mr. Bakst, never known as a
man to hold back ("I have a rep-
utation as something of a loose
cannon," he admits), returned the
next day to Tapawingo and asked
for work. He started as a wait-
er, then took over the dining
room, and finally became a part-
ner in the business. "We as a
team achieved greatness," he
says.
The experience was a revela-
tion. His new partner had no
qualms about hiring Mr. Bakst,
despite his past. "For somebody
to give you his trust like that —
knowing what he knew about
me? That is pretty remarkable."
But Mr. Bakst missed the city.
In January 1995, he decided to
come home, then to a job at Trib-
ute.
Most days, he's at work morn-
ing, all afternoon and half of the
night. He's convinced Tribute is
the best restaurant in metro De-
troit (he points out that during
a recent visit here, John Kennedy
Jr. came for dinner); he's work-
ing on convincing the rest of the
world, as well.
His wayward days behind him,
Mickey Bakst spent a number of
months speaking at high schools
and synagogues, discussing his
drug and alcohol abuse. He nev-
er opted for scare tactics. His ap-
proach was more along the lines
of, "You've got a choice. If you try
drugs you might become addict-
ed, or you might not. Are you will-

ing to take the chance?"
His latest project was helping
St. Vincent's, for which he will be
honored at a dinner in Novem-
ber. After he heard the charity's
warehouse, filled with Christmas
presents, burned down last De-
cember, Mr. Bakst picked up the
phone.
"My name's Mickey," he said.
"I know a few people. What do
you need?"
"Then all of a sudden I became
the spokesperson," coordinating
carloads of donations, encourag-
ing rabbis to make appeals. "I had
the entire Jewish community or-
ganizing," he says. In a matter of
days, the burned gifts had been
replenished, even increased.
"I guess they say I was the im-
petus," he says. "But all I think
I did was make a few phone calls."
Stanley Wegrzynowicz, direc-
tor of operations at St. Vincent's,
remembers the day he heard
from Mickey Bakst.
"He was the first person to re-
spond the night of the fire," Mr.
Wegrzynowicz says. "We said,
`Whatever you want to do, we
would appreciate.' But he want-
ed specifics. So he called back and
said, 'Here's what I want to do,'
and 'Can you let me run this pro-
ject?' From there, all we did was
benefit."
Mr. Bakst did everything from
find temporary space for the so-
ciety to use to coordinating press
conferences to asking communi-
ty leaders to help out, Mr. We-
grzynowicz says.
"Even corporations and small
businesses went out of their way,
all because of Mickey. You can-
not believe how they responded."
Hal Schwartz of Bradley Mar-
keting wouldn't be surprised at
all to hear the way his longtime
friend managed to muster such
support in a matter of minutes.
Mr. Schwartz has known
Mickey Bakst for more than 25
years. Not only in the best of
times, but even in the worst he
has found Mr. Bakst to be "a love-
able, friendly person and a loyal
friend all the way. He can strike
up a conversation with anyone
and make him feel good. He'll al-
ways brighten your day with a
laugh."
One day, Mr. Bakst imagines
he will work full time with char-
itable organizations. Meanwhile,
he has five more minutes and
then he's going in to a meeting
with the chefs and the waiters.
It's 11 a.m., and Tribute doesn't
open until ain
ner. But the plan-
ning, the organizing is unending.
He describes himself as "pret-
ty much at the top of my career,"
with close friends and family, and
respect from his colleagues.
"Isn't that what we live for?
he says. "What more could
ask?" ❑

David Syme,

Piano and Vocals

I he David Syme
Ensemble

Available on CD or Cassette at ALL Harmony House
locations, Dearborn Music, Esther's Judaica,
Borenstein's, & Spitzer's, or call 1-800-321-PIANO
(1-800-321-7426)

WE WISH YOU A NEW YEAR
FILLED WITH GOOD HEALTH AND HAPPINESS!

Julie, Sheri, Kim, Cindy
and the rest of the girls at

Lois,

in the Orchard Mall, West Bloomfield

Judi Jaff

John Mor8an
and fivrgonri at Prspczetivgs
wish all of our
eliRnts, associatRs and friRnds
a bizalthg and nappy
NRw

SPOTTED

DOG

MERCURY

IMUIRMEEMII

29260 FRANKLIN ROAD

\\,,„

AT THE CLAYMOOR

SOUTHFIELD, MI 48034

factory Outlet

810 I 358.3191

221 west nine mile • ferndale
1/2 block west of woodward
(810) 399-6787

■