Birth date: Apr 28, 1979 Death date: Jul 9, 2026
Chad Keith Johnson, 47, of Tampa, Florida, unexpectedly passed away in his sleep on July 9, 2026. Born and raised in Paducah, Kentucky, Chad graduated from Heath High School before heading to New York City to attend the French Cu Read Obituary
I am at a loss for words since hearing the news. Chad meant so much to so many of us. He was so talented in his craft and so devastatingly humble.
As a 16 year old kid, I walked into SideBern’s understanding very little about life. What I did understand, was that I loved to cook. I loved the intensity of the kitchen, I loved the satisfaction of watching someone enjoy something I created, and I was scared shitless to walk into that restaurant but a great math teacher of mine believed I could do it. As I sat down at a two top in the dining room, just against a window, I glanced around. It was beautiful and comfortable, I’d never felt so out of place while somehow also feeling right at home.
What I didn’t know is that I’d spend the next 4 years wandering that dining room, eating family meals in the chef suite, laughing (and crying) in the kitchen, and sneaking out the backdoor where we sat on crates to take cigarette breaks. As I sat there nervously waiting, Chad came out and sat across from me. He shook my hand and the first thing out of his mouth was “Wow, you’ve got some balls coming in here kid.” I actually have no idea what I even said in response, but as I handed over my resume, my resume that had Arby’s and Tacobell on it, along with accolades and awards from my high school culinary team, I remember thinking this was a pipe dream.
Chad told me he could not give me a job then, but that I could spend the summer there as a prep cook and shadowing to learn as much as I could. If I worked hard enough, he’d consider keeping me on as a line cook after the summer.
I was a horrible cook, I was also not well acquainted yet with hard work, but I gave it my best shot. I peeled and chopped garlic, prepped everyone’s parsley, onions, shucked (thousands of) oysters—all the stuff no one wants to do. One day he asked me to prep chives, as I proceeded to MINCE them, he kindly came over and said, “what the f*** are you doing?” but in the nicest tone possible. He laughed and explained why you should never mince a chive. At the end of the summer, he let me stay.
The years that followed were some of the hardest and most formative of my life. Working in a kitchen full of (mostly) men, who were excellent, far more qualified for their jobs, and who had no idea how I ended up there was, unsurprisingly, very difficult.
I learned to be tough. I’d start my day at 7 am at school, I swapped my last period of the day with a working class period, and hightailed it to sideberns for my 2pm shift. I’d get my station prepped for the day, always late and missing things, and then work dinner service til we wrapped up around 10-11pm. I’d drive home in my beater Honda, and do it all again the next day.
I’d regularly mess things up, forget details, piss off the guys I worked with, but I learned not to take anyone’s shit. They weren’t being mean, they were being real. A kitchen is a tough place to work and they all knew the importance of showing me that. If they snapped, I snapped right back. Chad always got a kick out of it, he nicknamed me Sparky because of it, a nickname he still called me 14 years later.
At 17, when I burned a full sheet pan of pine nuts, he yelled (because he had to, he would have yelled at anyone who did this, it’s a chef pre-requisite), but afterwards he quietly assured me it was no big deal, just remember to set a timer.
At 18, when I didn’t have enough money to buy groceries and had been denied food stamps, he loaned me $50 and assured me it would get better.
At 16, 17, and 18, he watched as a total jerk broke my heart, repeatedly. He reminded me I was worthy of so much more, that I could be whoever I wanted to be in the world and this jerk of a boyfriend would one day be a distant memory.
As a resident people pleaser, sticking up for myself can be tough. My Sparky nature was a defense mechanism that formed when I didn’t know how to balance my desire to please others with the reality that sometimes we let people down. Chad showed me how to lead with kindness and confidence. Throughout my 20s and 30s, I’ve continually found myself in rooms I’m not qualified, on paper, to be in. The impact of his leadership shows up in that room alongside me each and every time.
For years I’ve wanted to write this all down and share it with him. It’s a deep regret that now I won’t have the chance to do so. Chad, I hope you know the impact you had on my life. You gave me a chance, and while I didn’t become the great Chef protege you often joked about, I did become someone wonderful. I owe so much of that to you. Rest in peace. - Sparky
