by Assunta Ng
Northwest Asia Weekly
Tommy Quan cooking at Datong Kitchen (Photo courtesy of Lillian Woo)
Tommy Quan, owner of Tai Tung Restaurant, died on September 23, just before his 89th birthday. His brother Harry Chan said his cause of death was “old age”.
A popular host and flamboyant character, Quan knows how to entertain his customers with one-liners like a comedian. At times, he sounded stern. However, sometimes hidden beneath his serious face is a courage of gold. He was an unusual entrepreneur and pioneer whose contributions spanned the United States and China.
Quan’s China Project
In 1972, President Nixon’s first visit to China shocked the world. The aim is to end China’s isolation. But for China, opening itself up without the capital, resources, technology and roadmap is a challenge.
Enter a group of loyal Chinese Americans, including Quan. They were born in China, grew up in the US, and want to help the country they come from.
In 1979, while in Hong Kong, Kwon happened to meet a friend who told him to visit China. So he did it. The following year, when he visited Taishan, his hometown, China, he found that the situation in China was very bad, backward and poor. There are no roads in many parts of the village.
Where there are roads, they are shabby. There are small ponds in the middle and no bridges connecting the roads. Kwon complained to his brother that people couldn’t find food because there were no grocery stores or restaurants to buy it.
Initially, Kwon just wanted to help his relatives.
“China needed a lot of help at that time,” Chen explained.
“If you don’t listen to me for a few days, you go to the embassy and report my disappearance,” Quan told Chen when he went to China.
Quan and his brother Harry Chan at the orange farm in Taishan, China (Photo courtesy of Harry Chan)
Over the years, Quan has traveled back and forth between China and Seattle. Over time, however, he spent more and more time in China and went home less and less often. Under the name of his new company in China, also known as Datong, he rebuilt his hometown entirely by developing orange farms, aloe vera plantations and forest farms. His company makes aloe vera products and builds his own home. He has created hundreds of jobs for the local community.
At first, the 300 acres he envisioned for development were deemed useless by the local government and farmers. According to Chen, although he was not a farmer and knew nothing about farming before returning home, he proved his opponents wrong by growing the best oranges from his 12,000 trees. Quan also kept a pig farm to provide fertilizer for his farming and built a fish pond for irrigation.
Chen said the fruit was exported to Hong Kong and Canada, but it didn’t make much money. (There is a lot of spoilage in the export process.)
Quan even donated money to build roads, a school to instruct elementary and high school students (even if his partner quit), and a park for children in the village. The boxing known as the King of Oranges in Guangdong was so successful that Chinese Premier Zhao Ziyang led a delegation to Taishan to inspect boxing. In 1993, he was awarded the highest honor of Chinese humanitarianism by Jiangmen Municipal People’s Government: Honorary Citizen of Jiangmen City. In 1997, he was awarded the honorary citizen of Taishan City by the Taishan Municipal People’s Government.
Kwon and his daughter Lillian. (Photo courtesy of Lillian Woo)
However, in the 1990s, orange farms were infested with yellow bugs that killed all the trees.
Quan overcame the challenge because he felt that God led him to China to help the villagers, according to his daughter Lillian Woo – because if he knew nothing about growing oranges, why would he even start an orange farm? The trees take many years to grow, her father knew, but once they mature, they can be used to build high-end furniture, Woo writes. While he knows the trees won’t be felled in his lifetime, he hopes to pass the investment on to his grandchildren – which will be his legacy to them.
At the time, Quan’s investment in China was probably closer to $400,000 (closer to $1 million today), Chan said.
“My brother is the kind of guy who wants to ‘go, go, go’ when he’s working on something. He did ask if we could send him money to continue his dream in China.”
“We will support you,” Chen replied at the time. “Family will support you.”
Between Seattle and Tarzan
For the past four decades, Quan has continued to travel back and forth between China and Seattle in pursuit of a successful startup. He teamed up with his best friend, former Seattle city attorney and mayoral candidate Doug Jewett. The late political guru Ruth Woo was Jewett’s campaign manager when he ran for city attorney. Her husband Ben introduced Quan to Jewett.
“If you’ve been around Tommy, you realize how smart he is,” Juwitt said, even though “he had no formal education.” Juwitt said Kwon’s powers of observation were enormous, especially when When it comes to U.S.-China relations. Quan can say a lot about government policy, the differences between the U.S. and China, and “things you didn’t expect.” His worldview makes him both unusual and interesting. “
In 1984, Quan persuaded Jewett and his wife Susan to come with him to China, where they lived in the house he built in the village. In the summer of 1988, Jewett returned to China with a business delegation and lived in the village with his family for two months. Jewett said it was the best summer of his life. Quan and Jewett co-founded the aloe vera skin care and juice business, which has grown into a major domestic Chinese brand (AloeDerma).
spring people
“I learned a lot from Tommy,” Chen said. “He took care of me, we never had a fight, not even once. He taught me how to run a business. He taught me how to talk to customers. He said, ‘If you treat your customers well, no matter what face they are, they’ll be fine . “He also taught me how to drink and gamble, like going to the casino. He used to tell me you need to learn the good and the bad. We had a great time.”
Quan loves to cook and his children Aldis and Lillian say his dishes are always delicious. Some of his favorite dishes to cook for the family are beef stew, chicken curry and tuna casserole.
But he kept the ingredients secret, and until recently, his family still didn’t know the recipe.
“We tried to replicate the beef stew and tuna casserole, but it was never as good as my dad’s,” Woo said. After one bite, he could tell what ingredient was missing in the casserole, ‘not enough milk’, he would say. “
“Tommy is a very sociable person,” said Lin Qin, a family friend and landlord in Datong. “When you put him behind the counter in Taitung, he came alive because he liked his customers. … He loved his family, but most of all, [he loved] his brother Harry. He used to tell me that Harry was his best brother and partner. …[Quan] A legend of his time. He will be missed in the community. “
In January 1982, two weeks before I started my first Chinese-language newspaper in the Pacific Northwest, I met Quan. I have seen people waiting in line to enter Taitung restaurant. My assumption was, “If the business is good, he’ll have the money to advertise.” My childishness is pathetic, ridiculous, and inexcusable.
Without doing any research on the business or the owner, I just walked right into the restaurant and no one in the community swears by my credibility. “Who’s the boss?” I asked the waiter.
“There.” The waiter pointed to a tall man with a serious face. I have never seen this person before. I only know his name. Meeting the plenum was itself an education for a young woman who knew nothing about entrepreneurship.
“Mr. Quan, I’m going to start the first Chinese-language newspaper in the community,” I said. “I want you to advertise in the Seattle Chinese Post.”
Quiet.
I tried small talk, but obviously I failed because I didn’t even have the skills to do so.
“I’ve never advertised my business,” he said. “I’ve run this business for 30 years, and I don’t advertise.” He means he doesn’t advertise, but his restaurant is doing well.
I am speechless. I don’t know how to overcome his objections. I failed as a salesperson. At that moment, I realized that if this guy who never advertised started (if he did it contrary to his business practices), he would be disgraced.
So I asked him, “Do you agree that it is a good thing for the community to have a Chinese newspaper?”
he agrees.
I changed direction. “It’s not an ad,” I told him.
“It’s not?” he said.
“It’s a congratulatory message,” I explained.
It makes a lot of sense to him. Then he actually told me what to enter, as content.
“How much is half a page?” he asked. “Let me write you a check.”
The rest is history.
The right taught me to be bold in my sales pitch. To support us, he broke his own rules and showed his true kindness and humanity. He was the first advertiser to send me a large ad, while many others only ordered business card sized ads. Even though I’m really the one with zero credit and credibility, I tell other advertisers, “Tommy Quan pay me first. You all need to pay me now because you don’t have any credit with my company. “
The right actually saved our inaugural issue. Thank you, Tommy! We are forever grateful!
The history of springs
Born in Taishan, Quan, the eldest of five children, came to the United States with his grandmother in 1950 at the age of 15 to realize the American Dream. He uses immigration documents with the surname Quan. (His actual last name is Chan in Chinese.)
He took Edison’s ESL classes on Broadway to improve his English, and then attended Garfield High School.
As a veteran, Kwon fought in the Korean War. Quan served in the U.S. Army from 1953 to 1955. He was stationed at Ft. Lewis, Ft. Hood and Ft. happiness. After basic training, he was assigned to the Eighth Military Division and sent to North Korea. He credits the military for teaching him discipline, improving his English, and teaching him how to get along with others.
After that, Quan started working in the kitchen of his family restaurant, Datong. As an entrepreneur, Kwon bought shares from his grandfather to buy the family restaurant and become one of the owners. He later opened two more restaurants, Chinese Village in Federal Way and Tommy Q’s in Renton. He also owns a snack bar at the pasta company Hyak Snoqualmie Ski lodge and owns a race horse.
Quan returned to Seattle in 2019 for medical reasons. However, nothing stops him from helping out at Dadong Restaurant every day. You can often find him behind the counter chatting and laughing with customers, taking orders and more. He loves Datong and enjoys seeing his family there, especially his brother Harry.
Quan has five children behind him: (Adam), Aldis, (Ayn), Lillian (Scott), Diana (Keith) and Allison (Angela). Quan is in heaven with his wife Judy and daughter Eliore. He is survived by his sisters Kam, Nora, Leila and brother Harry, his new wife Katie and youngest daughter Mary, 16 grandchildren, two great-granddaughters and many nephews and nieces.
A special viewing will be held at Sunset Hill Memorial Park and Funeral Home on October 19 from 4-8pm.
The Celebration of Life will be held at Sunset Hill Memorial Park and Funeral Home on October 20 at 11 am.
Assunta Ng can reach assunta@nwasianweekly.com.
