Featured Image Credit: CBS Evening News/YouTube
Topics: Restaurants and bars, US Food, Health
Ben Williams
Topics: Restaurants and bars, US Food, Health
For most people, finding a favourite restaurant is a small joy: becoming somewhere familiar, comforting, and reliably good every time you visit.
It’s the place you go when you don’t want to think too hard about what to order, where staff recognise your face and sometimes even remember your usual.
In Pensacola, Florida, one seafood spot became exactly that for Charlie Hicks. After discovering the Shrimp Basket, the retired local quickly settled into a routine that barely changed for a decade. Lunch and dinner were accounted for every day, without fail. The order stayed the same, too: a bowl of gumbo, light on the rice, hold the cracker served up by staff who came to expect him as part of their daily rhythm.
Over time, Charlie became essentially a constant as well as a regular: someone who greeted staff as they opened the doors, who sat in the same space, and who quietly became part of the restaurant’s extended family. So, when he suddenly didn’t appear, it didn’t go unnoticed.
Advert
At first, there was no panic. Staff rang his home and were relieved when he answered, explaining he was feeling unwell. One employee even dropped his food off at his apartment, leaving it at the door at Charlie’s request. However, when the calls stopped being answered altogether, concern turned into something more serious.
That’s when Chef Donnell Stallworth made a decision that ultimately led to him becoming a literal lifesaver.
Stallworth told CBS News: “Mr. Hicks don't miss no days… We open the doors up, Mr. Hicks is there to greet us.”
Trusting his instincts, Donnell left his shift and drove to Charlie’s apartment. After knocking and getting no response, he was about to turn away when he heard a faint call for help. Inside, Charlie was found lying on the floor, unable to get up.
Donnell said: “And then I opened the door up. He was lying on the ground, and I didn't know what his condition was; that was the scariest part right there.”
Charlie had been on the floor for an unknown length of time. He was severely dehydrated and had suffered two broken ribs, injuries that could have been fatal if left untreated.
During his recovery, Shrimp Basket staff made sure he wasn’t alone, even bringing his twice-daily gumbo orders to the hospital. After his discharge, they went a step further, helping him move into a new apartment right next door to the restaurant so they could keep an eye on him.
His niece, Christina Neeper, told the Pensacola News Journal: “[Charlie] said that Donell had saved his life. And I’m pretty sure that Donell and [the Shrimp Basket staff] saved his life…Donell has been texting him and visiting him. Apparently, they’re best friends.”
By December 2025, Charlie was back in his seat, routine restored, bond strengthened.
Charlie said: “We made a connection…We made a connection.” Donnell added: “He’s that uncle. He’s that grandfather. He’s that best friend,...He’s all in one.”