![]() He was like the love doctor.”Īntonio was his actual given name, but everyone called him Sunny. Sitting outside the record shop, Scott Pfaffman, 61, a local artist, said, “Lots of people were close to Sunny. ![]() “His departure is not a departure,” he said. “There will never be anyone else like Sunny and there never was anyone else like him before he came into being,” said Tim Sultan, a longtime friend who used to work part time behind the bar and recently published a memoir, “Sunny’s Nights: Lost and Found at a Bar on the Edge of the World.” Near midnight on Thursday, at the age of 81, the beloved Sunny Balzano died, after having a cerebral hemorrhage the day before.įor those who knew him, a singular man was gone who could not be replaced. So, deep sadness engulfed Red Hook on Friday as the word got out and was reluctantly accepted: An epochal event had happened. It was a motley joint, decorated with just about everything, but so what, you felt good there.Īnd maybe you weren’t feeling all that great about yourself, torn up by life’s obstinate miseries, but by the time you had paid the tab and were ready to get back at it, you sure did feel wonderful. And you listened, mesmerized, chuckling along while quaffing your second or third or 13th drink in his bar, Sunny’s Bar, wedged in at the foot of the harbor in Red Hook, Brooklyn. He just had stories to tell and stories to tell and stories to tell. The thing about Sunny Balzano was you couldn’t stop him from talking, but you didn’t ever want to.
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