Alana Haupmann

Grew up in: Union City, New Jersey

Came to Hudson: 1997

Current Job: Owner of Red Dot, opened in 1999

Mad passion: AnimalKind Cat Shelter

What she’s reading now: In Extremis: The Life and Death of War Correspondent Marie Colvin

Life Swerve

“We came here, honestly, because of cheap real estate,” says Alana as she begins her Hudson origin story. “I had a friend who had lived in Hudson. One day he called me up and said, ‘You should go look at this building, it’s $20,000.’” Alana’s husband Perry, who passed away in 2014, left a job in commercial real estate in Long Island City and decided to take on the job of renovating the building. “We found everything in the bar second hand. We were going to paint the walls—it was all old ship boards—and Perry came down one night when we were scraping and he decided we would leave it just like that, so that became the infamous wall.” This first property investment, plus materials and countless hours of sweat equity created two apartments and the first incarnation of the Red Dot so many of us know and love: fourteen tables and a bar.

During this renovation period Alana only came up to Hudson on weekends. “I was in the fashion industry—I worked in wholesale for Versace, for Byblos, for lots of Italian brands. I did everything from design to sales, for many years, and at 42, I decided I didn’t want to do that anymore. I didn’t want to grow old in that business.”

The Red Dot

Although neither Perry nor Alana had any restaurant experience, they could see that a restaurant/bar/hangout was just what Hudson needed at that time. “It was pretty dreary, lots of drugs and prostitution, and there were empty storefronts. It was a million miles away from what it is today.” They decided to open a restaurant with two partners who originated the recipes for some of Red Dot’s classics such as steamed mussels and Belgian-style frites, but just a few weeks before opening, the partners backed away and Alana and Perry bought them out. The restaurant sign still had one of the partners’ name painted around a red dot on a white background, and now they needed a new name. “It was Sam Pratt who said, ‘Why don’t you just call it Red Dot, because I always tell people to look for the Red Dot.’ So that was that.”

The restaurant was a success from the beginning. “We were addressing the expats from New York City who had nowhere to go and the gay population who did not feel welcome in local places, which is how we started out being heralded as ‘the gay bar.’ Which wasn’t true because everyone came here.” Not everyone in Hudson welcomed the Red Dot. “We had stink bombs through the door and B-B shots through the windows.” Over time, this attitude shifted and the Red Dot settled in.

Soon enough, Alana and Perry joined the citizen group that was fighting against the proposed St Lawrence Cement plant. “The Red Dot was a place for people to meet during that fight and when we won it was where we celebrated.” By then, the Red Dot had fulfilled Perry’s vision of looking like it had always been there. “And it kind of does,” Alana says, laughing. “Twenty years later maybe it looks too much like it’s always been here.”

When Red Dot first opened, smoking was still permitted in bars and lots of people still smoked. So two years after opening, Alana and Perry bought the next-door building, which had been on the market for years, to create a non-smoking dining room. This new space opened just as the new laws came into effect prohibiting any inside smoking. But by then, the extra space was welcome and the new building had an outside garden. “The dining room is for people want to talk, and the bar is where the rowdies are, and the garden is for everybody.”

If you’ve spent a winter in Hudson, you’ve had a chance to enjoy Red Dot’s holiday season transformations. “I had this idea one year, I wanted to put evergreen branches on the column [in the bar] and have the people be the presents under the tree. Every year it just got more ridiculous. We’ve done an ice palace. We’ve done Cirque du Noel with a red lamé tent, as if we were the circus. We’ve done the Russian Tea Room [legendary New York City restaurant] and Winter Wonderland and The Nutcracker. As soon as I take it down I have to think of something else. Every year it gets a bit harder.” Alana says she hasn’t revived any ideas yet. “Unfortunately, Wendy Frost, an artist who used to help me, passed away. I lost Perry and I lost Wendy. Marlene Marshall has helped me the last two years.” All the pieces are planned and created way in advance and there are only two days to install each year’s transformation. “ I love coming up with the ideas and seeing them come to fruition and I love seeing people enjoy them.”

After more than two decades running Red Dot, Alana sees her restaurant as the “Cheers” of Hudson. “We aren’t expensive, we serve really good food—and I am my worst critic. We aren’t farm-to-table, but we get the best ingredients we can, and we make really good satisfying food. If you move to town and you want to meet people, this is the place to do that. It’s not about fancy, it’s a place where people come to meet and that gives me great satisfaction.”

When it comes to her long-standing staff Alana says, “Sometimes I wonder who really owns the place. My bartender has been here 13 years, one of my waitresses 14 years, my chef started out as a sous-chef now he’s been here 8 years. My whole philosophy about starting this business was I never wanted to be treated the way I was treated when I worked in the fashion industry. I don’t look at myself as a boss, I look at myself as someone who is giving people an opportunity to do the best work they can and then that way they can make as much money as they can. And they do. And I think I can honestly say that they make more money than I do. I just eat and drink for free.” And all her friends come to visit. Throughout the years a few visiting celebrities have found a home at Red Dot as well: singer Bette Midler, fashion icon Iman, comedians like Tom Davis, Dan Akroyd, and Chevy Chase. “Half the time I don’t know who they are because I’m busy!”

AnimalKind

More recently, Alana has joined the board of AnimalKind, the cat shelter on Upper Warren Street started by Katrin Hecker, a registered nurse, who wanted to create a home and adoption center for the stray cats and kittens that were overrunning the streets and alleys of Hudson. “I found myself involved with fundraisers. I got on the board a few years ago and I help out whenever I can.” (P.S.: Your editor encourages you to consider adopting from AnimalKind, where we adopted two beloved feline friends and to make a donation of any amount to help the shelter continue its work.)

Evolving Hudson

Alana has seen a lot of change in Hudson since Red Dot opened its doors in 1999.

“Hudson became a destination. Because of the train, I always had an umbilical cord to the city that I never dreamt I’d ever leave and now I can’t imagine going back because it isn’t the New York I used to know. I never dreamt Hudson would be like this with property values soaring, which has downsides. There’s not enough affordable housing, not enough workers who can afford to live here. We have so many restaurants and we still don’t have a supermarket.” She worries that comparisons to the flashy wealth of The Hamptons on the South Fork of Long Island might come true. “People who lived here and worked here have to live elsewhere and our taxes are outrageous.” She worries about economic sustainability. “I love the food trucks, they make good food at a good price. We have Out Hudson, we have parades. Hudson still has that small town thing that I dig. But wealthy people have come and bought property at high prices and that’s changed things quite a bit. My property values have gone up but so have my taxes. People come here because of what it is, and then set about to change the character of the town.”

Change is eternal, but Alana hopes some things won’t disappear. “Everyone used to know each other and people said hello, good morning. You can’t come here with the same attitude as you had in the city. I moved to Manhattan from Union City, New Jersey because I wanted to be anonymous, and then when I left new York City and came here it was because I didn’t want to be anonymous, I wanted to be part of a community.”

As for the future, Alana plans to keep on doing what she’s doing. “We’ll see how long I can hold out, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be 63 this year. I haven’t come to any revelation as to my next place in life so I’ll be here for a while.”