The marquee of the Tivoli Theatre is not shining as brightly these days. That’s because the passing of its caretaker has left movie lovers with heavy hearts, teary eyes, and a sense of inimitable loss. For them, the screen went dark with the news of the passing of John McCray Thompson on February 12th.
For 35 years, Thompson was the heart and soul of the theater, serving as a ticket taker, usher, and greeter. As patrons entered, Thompson—recognizable by his black vest and filmstrip necktie—met them cordially and held nothing back in making the experience of seeing a movie a delight.
Thompson’s early life was not easy. He had a tumultuous adolescence and moved from job to job. He battled depression and schizophrenia until a psychiatrist came to his aid, and prescribed medication that helped him out tremendously.
In 1977, fueled by a passion for film, he launched a two-year campaign to get a position at the Tivoli. Undaunted, he minced no words in lobbying for a job. His arduous work paid off and on August 28, 1979, he was finally hired.
What happened next is the stuff of legend as Thompson established himself as a fixture in the Loop. With every ticket he tore his reputation as “that very nice man at the Tivoli,” grew.
Thompson was the heavyweight champion of kindness. He saved damsels in distress from many a downpour by supplying them with umbrellas. He kept tabs on parking meters to assure no one got tickets on his watch. Essentially, it was not a visit to the Tivoli if Thompson was not there.
He was nothing short of a superhero, performing daring deeds of kindness every day. Thompson often logged 75-hour weeks between his job at the Tivoli, a gig as a doorman in Clayton, and a bit of dog walking on the side. His energy was relentless and his passion for going above and beyond the call of duty was well-known.
His superpowers were his empathy, warmth, and ability to remember the names and interests of those he greeted at the Tivoli. His knowledge of the personal likes and dislikes of visitors meant he often slyly steered them away from movies he thought they would not like. With impeccable taste, he was quick with a movie suggestion, critique, or review.
He was the face of the Loop. Former coworkers, students, and residents often made the pilgrimage to the Tivoli whenever they were in town to see Thompson and catch up. Greeting them with a handshake and a beaming smile, he remembered them as if he had only seen them a few hours ago.
John’s warmth and enthusiasm also left a favorable impression with visiting patrons, filmmakers and tourists who often returned to their own communities with stories of much fun they had going to the cinema. To that end very few theater ticket takers can claim to be world renown.
While film was a passion of Thompson’s, he also loved live theater and the symphony. Many a time he would enthusiastically delight Tivoli guests with stories of a performance he had seen and loved.
Walking by the Tivoli on any given day, in any kind of weather, you could see Thompson changing the marquee by hand, hanging each letter with precision and care, stopping frequently to chat with those walking by.
Paul Faur, a former Tivoli employee who first met Thompson in 1999, recounted a particularly memorable evening with his friend.
There was one after-hours party where John announced that he wanted to do a reading of "Gunga Din" by Rudyard Kipling. When John began reciting it, it was one of the most powerful things I've ever seen. John spoke those words like he was making them up on the spot. When he got to "You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!" you could have knocked me over with a feather. He brought the house down.
Faur also commented on Thompson’s stature at the Tivoli.
John was the only man in the world who could do that job the way that he did, in a way that made it special and touched people's lives. He was irreplaceable.
John Lesser, a Tivoli regular, knew Thompson for 25 years.
I always had to laugh whenever John would lambast a picture, because he was always so positive. I never ever heard him say a harsh or nasty thing about anyone. He was just the nicest guy ever. He loved reading. We would talk often about Man Without Qualites, which we both loved. He was a wonderful talker about almost any intellectual pursuit.
Rob Edgecomb, a former Landmark Theatre employee, shared his memories.
John made every movie a special experience, and was the kindest man I have ever met. His passion for people, movies, and life has always stayed with me.
KDHX DJ bobEE Sweet’s friendship with Thompson dates back to the 1970s.
So many people who would be in a position like his—seeing and meeting so many people, especially youth both in college and high school—get jaded and nostalgic; but John always seemed interested and friendly to the mass of people he met, young and old.
When not taking tickets or manning the box office, John could often be found in the lobby, reading. He loved books, and his taste in suggested reading was on par with his movie recommendations. He loved poetry and read both fiction and nonfiction with great relish. He read The New Yorker religiously.
Thompson also loved baseball, and like most St. Louisans, his summers were consumed with how well the Cardinals were doing.
Thompson could always be counted on for a good story or two about movies. He loved Humphrey Bogart’s work. Among his under-the-radar favorite films were The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai, Across the Eighth Dimension, and A Hard Day’s Night. He also loved Talking Heads and their film, Stop Making Sense. His interest in the pictures led to his becoming a collector of autographs.
When John met Tivoli regular Fran Sontag, she became the love of his life. They wed in 2008, and seeing them together rivaled the best Bogart and Bacall love scenes. Fran pulled off a small miracle in getting John to cut back on work and see the world. They traveled to Italy and often took short trips together to visit family and friends or simply get away.
Having Fran as a wife and accomplice gave John a spring in his step and a sense of peace that wiped away the darkness and tumult of his early years. She completed him in every way, and those who knew him enjoyed hearing the topic of their conversations expand to include Fran.
For his very wide circle of friends and family, there is a sense of comfort in this difficult time in that his latter years were filled with so much love and joy.
With his passing our city has lost one of its ambassadors and gentlest of souls. It also means that the curtain has closed on the longest running blockbuster in the history of the Tivoli Theatre.
They say a man’s legacy is determined by how many people he has touched. If that is true then John Thompson’s will beam brighter than any star of the silver screen.
A memorial mass for John Thompson will be celebrated on Saturday, Feb. 22, 2014, at 10 a.m. at St. Roch Catholic Church, 6052 Waterman.
