When we meet someone indelible, we often say “they broke the mold”, but there was no mold for Nancy. She was a true original. From her infectious laugh to her unflagging generosity, Nancy was a rare gift to the world.
Nancy left us unexpectedly on December 26, 2020. Whether she was family, a friend or a favorite bartender, losing her—especially so suddenly—is incredibly painful.
That’s because Nancy connected quickly with people. Every room improved when she walked in. Her energy commanded our attention. Her joy compelled us to want to be around her. She genuinely wanted to get to know everyone she encountered. That meant something to her. Watching her work a room was a treat.
No one remembers Nancy not working. She had a childhood paper route before finding the restaurant and bar business, where she would spend the majority of her professional life. She waited tables and tended bar at many renowned East Bay establishments, and co-owned Ti Bacio Ristorante & Bar. Her loyal clientele followed her everywhere, including The Baltic, Ed’s, The Rancho, China Station, Celia’s, PJ’s, Spenger’s and Brennan’s, where she was the first female barkeep in the restaurant’s history. Most recently, Nancy tended bar at The Warehouse in Port Costa where she became part of the town’s tight-knit family.
Making drinks was only one of Nancy’s talents. To sit at her bar was to have a front-row seat for a one-woman show. Stories, told in her distinctive voice and frequently punctuated with profanity or a deep laugh, were her stock in trade. Nancy also had those bartender superpowers of being a good listener and sensing customers’ need to be cared for or cheered up. Some items from her collection of oddball animatronic toys and doodads were always within reach to quickly raise our spirits or transport us to happier times.
Nancy was always all-in. There was no half-assed with her. In her orbit, you were loved within an inch of your life. She was always the first in line to celebrate your wins, mourn your losses and get you through the mundanities of daily life. She constantly bestowed gifts rescued from the roadside, curated from craigslist or sourced from a thrift shop. Often they were things you needed; other times, they were things she simply wanted you to have. Either way, these tokens were the material manifestation of her abiding love and generosity. In the last year, with so much pain and suffering and chaos, Nancy was a force of positivity, support and goodwill. And laughs. Always laughs.
None of this was anything Nancy learned. It was just who she was. And all of it is why Nancy was so extraordinarily loved.
Nancy is survived by her partner, Mike Maxwell; her son, Rico DiGiorgio and his girlfriend, Stephanie Guth; sister, Merri Griffin and her husband, Charles Griffin; brother, Sylvan Amdahl and his wife, Donnella Smigiel-Amdahl; brother, Jeff Amdahl and his wife, Shelley Amdahl; sister, Kari Dingman and her husband, David Dingman; as well as many beloved cousins, nieces and nephews. Nancy was preceded in death by her parents, Sylvan and Catherine Amdahl.
We will gather at some point to celebrate her life, share memories and comfort each other in person once it is safe to do so. She would insist on that. The best way to honor Nancy’s memory is to always tip the hell out of your bartender. You can make a gift in her honor to 86fund.org. Please also visit her “Nancy Amdahl Remembrance” Facebook page.