Dante Stephensen grips a mug of coffee in one hand and a straw-colored sack in the other as he takes his stage, inside the Buckhead landmark that bears his name. He’s an impish man, slightly ruffled in a checked shirt and worn tan slacks. His hair and mustache are white, grandfatherly. He moves lightly for a man of 77.
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Next week: A young man with autism lands a job and discovers independence.