Edited
おめでとうはやさん！ to my good friend that made his dream come true. 
A couple words about Atsushi -
I met Atsushi at Atlanta Japanese Baptist Church about a year before he opened Sushi House Hayakawa. We saw each other from time to time at a Melodyと言うカラオケ屋、where he commented that he finally had the financial backing to start the restaurant.
I'm actually quite intrigued by the way things start - feeling out what works and what doesn't. I remember eating at his place before official opening, sampling the dishes that were common to sushi restaurants around the world, but also of the types that are much more "homey". I actually had いくら飯 (Ikura Meshi) for the first time at his restaurant. So simple and yet, when prepared with the freshest materials, sublime.
Hand picked salts, and high grade 粗油(soy sauce) - his initial weeks had to be financially tough, trying to find a place in a town that at the time sported 居酒屋 that served sushi and a blossoming vietnamese owned high-end clubby-fusion-hipster sushi joint. How would a place aiming for tradition service and artistry fare in the midst of a city not yet acquainted with Jiro dreams of Sushi? How would he stay in the black using the finest ingredients when his competitors were low-balling the market in prices?
I remember him musing that it was hard to compete when other restaurants aimed for margins, when he couldn't bear to skimp on quality.
3 stories about Atsushi Hayakawa:
The first relates to his childhood in 札幌（Sapporo）小さいとき、in his childhood, he grew up with a father who ran a restaurant as well. He served with faultless hospitality, often letting guests eat for free when they were hard on their luck (the original welfare, my friends- not faceless governments, but people who give out of their own pockets to people responsible for saying thanks...). To the point where sometimes his mom would worry that the family would go hungry. This is the example that 父上would give. It's something that shines beautifully in Atsushi's character.
The second relates to his treatment of his friends. My background photo is of an overflowing glass of 日本酒。渡り船 (Wataribune) to be precise. It is a sake that I first had at Haya's place, where he poured it for me, into a small glass, overflowing （溢れている- afureteiru - beautiful word - tears overflowing, water spilling over）. He told me this symbolized the hospitality of the owner - to give bountifully - to spill over with generosity and graciousness.
It's such a beautiful symbol of hospitality - something akin to the korean practice of pan-chan. So different from the transactional nature of much of modern commerce and relationships - but I digress.
Psalm 23:
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
5 תַּעֲרֹ֬ךְ לְפָנַ֨י׀ שֻׁלְחָ֗ן נֶ֥גֶד צֹרְרָ֑י דִּשַּׁ֖נְתָּ בַשֶּׁ֥מֶן רֹ֝אשִׁ֗י כּוֹסִ֥י רְוָיָֽה׃
6 אַ֤ךְ׀ ט֤וֹב וָחֶ֣סֶד יִ֭רְדְּפוּנִי כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיָּ֑י וְשַׁבְתִּ֥י בְּבֵית־יְ֝הוָ֗ה לְאֹ֣רֶךְ יָמִֽים׃
When he poured that first glass of sake for me on that day of days, I recalled this chapter from my youth - indeed, the passage I memorized for my baptism.
It is, in our modern economy, wasteful. Pouring out sake until it pours over. It is an expression of boundless love.
ありがとうございました、早川さん。本当に、ありがとう。
The third story relates to his personal giving.
It's so easy to talk about love and sacrifice. To protest, but not to give. To be an activist, but lack love.
Haya-san has spent many of his vacations, not relaxing, but serving in 被災地 （hisai-chi - disaster zones) stricken by the Tsunami. Giving of his own resources, and more importantly, his time. This is love-writ large, on lives.
So - if you're in Atlanta, and you like traditional sushi, please try out his place... but more importantly, meet a good friend and a self-sacrificing man.
頑張ってください、敦さん！
頑張れ！
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