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Thone through the ages...
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Leaning against the the back bar in his trademark striped polos, Kenny Thone greeted regulars at O’Connell’s with a knowing nod for 14-years, alternating weeknights and sharing weekends with another longtime fixture, Bobby Van Uum. Together, they bridged the moods of any given night there, from the early-evening dinner rush to the wee-hours of the next day. Thone kept the gold-hued lights of the venerable pub glowing until 3 a.m., with an almost-religious devotion to keeping one of the South Side’s oldest 3 a.m. bars humming until the last-possible minute.
On Tuesday night, Thone was working his standard 6 p.m.-to-close shift; by 2 a.m., his only customers were three employees from the nearby Guido's, not surprising, as the tavern’s long-enjoyed the support of fellow industry workers. According to the GM of O'Connell's, Fred Parker, the night was like many others, with a quiet wind-down happening as Thone tended to his three customers, with whom he was sharing photos on his cell phone. Though "not feeling 100%" throughout the evening, Parker said that a massive heart attack fatally struck Thone Wednesday morning, without any real warning.
Reached at the bar on Thursday evening, Parker recalled that Thone and his trio of regulars "were at the end of the bar and Kenny was shooting shit with them as he always did." When the heart attack struck "there was nothing they could do." A history of heart ailments among male relatives had visited the 44-year-old Thone, in the very place where he’d met and befriended so many.
As a longstanding member of the O'Connell's staff, Thone's loss has obviously left his co-workers shaken. Said Parker, "it's sorrow, deep sorrow. But they're getting together and telling stories. After the initial shock, everybody began telling stories and having a good laugh. He could talk to anybody. He connected with people. He really listened. And he told good stories. People loved that about him. Just a good solid guy, all the way around."
Last night, a number of his co-workers, regulars, and friends gathered at Pop's in Sauget. The only odd thing about it was that the meeting was taking place at 8 p.m., rather than deeper in the day. A noted night-owl, Thone was something of a presence at Pop's, often meeting his last customers at the East Side landmark before (and even after) sun-up, especially at the tail end of those Friday and Saturday night shifts.
Friend Elizabeth Romero said that “I always looked forward to our leaving Pop’s and watching the sun come up. How could you spend a better Saturday or Sunday morning? Even a Wednesday morning. When we left, it was always a completely new day, a completely good day.”
An occasional running buddy of his was eight-year co-worker at O’Connell’s, Gabby Gebben, who said that traveling to Pop’s with Thone was “like being treated like a VIP. Going into O’Connell’s after (his death) was one kind of craziness. It totally didn’t feel like the same place. I’d come in on my nights off to have a drink with him. He’s the one we all came to see.”
When she met Thone, Gebben was an 18-year-old manager of a Steak ’n Shake, taking on a five-hour, short shift as a server on Sunday nights and “he was the first one at O’Connell’s who liked me. I was young and new and they don’t always take well to that there. But he definitely took me under his wing and took care of me the whole time, every night, any time we worked. I feel like you’re going to hear endless stories of things he did for people. He was the most giving and selfless man.”
Gebben recalled her car being hit on that weird, expansive Pop’s parking lot, only to have Thone stand vigil with her for two-and-half-hours. “He wasn’t having a good time,” Gebben said. “But he wanted to make sure I was okay.” According to Facebook, a whole squadron of people had Thone walk them to their cars, or had him change a tire, jump start a car, or even pick a lock. In the early hours, he was a handy friend at Shaw and Kingshighway.
It’s possible that of all his colleagues, Thone was most-connected to Annette Schwent. A popular, ever-upbeat server at O’Connell’s, she shared well over a decade of Tuesday nights at the bar with Thone, with whom she enjoyed, let’s call it, a “special” relationship, often engaged in night-long, verbal battles that confused and delighted customers in equal measure.
“Our regular customers referred to it as ‘The Annette and Kenny Show,’” she said. “We would zing each other like there was no tomorrow. He could dish it out, I could take it, and vice versa. New customers would be caught off-guard by it, ‘I can’t believe he said that to her and she said that back. We’d make people laugh. It would be at our expense. People would have a great time on Tuesday and leave things (from home or work) behind.
“I’ve worked at O’Connell’s for 13 years and worked he Kenny for 13 years worth of Tuesday nights,” she added. “It was a joy to work with him and I never ever didn’t want to work a Tuesday night. Tuesdays are a little more of an industry night and when you work with somebody for that long, you begin to build up a clientele. I will say that in working all those Tuesdays, we’d see different college groups come in, from Webster, SLU, Wash U... It’s reuben night and they’d start coming in as freshmen and they’d stay ‘til they were seniors. Some of them would come back afterwards, to see us on Tuesday which was really cool. We were on our fourth round of them.
“A lot of people thought that Kenny and I owned O’Connell’s,” she added with a laugh. “A lot thought we were this old, married couple and were disappointed when they found out that we weren’t married and didn’t own the place.”
Maybe the most-surprising tale is that it was Schwent and Thone who’d decorate the place after Thanksgiving. As anyone who’s spent time there knows, the walls don’t change much and decorations stay up for decades, not years. But during every holiday season, festive, antique gnomes and wreaths and baubles would appear, magically, as if in the dead of night. In fact, it was Schwent and Thone hanging them, just that way, finishing at 5 or 6 a.m.
“We did it for the last 10 years,” Schwent said. “He was the male Martha Stewart of Christmas decorating. He’d take such pride in it. We’d take this dark, dark Irish bar and make it a happy drinking atmosphere for five weeks a year.”
At a candlelit Pop’s, with a computer open, around a dozen people came by to share stories like this. Emotions were roiling, laughter alternating with tears, hugs being exchanged, one large group leaving to head down to the Landing; the idea that a group left Pop’s to head back to Missouri for drinks probably would’ve had Thone smiling. (Once there, outside of Joey B’s on a streetside stage, Kim Massie sang “Danny Boy” on their request, pausing the post-Rams game party music for a rousing rendition, which was accompanied by friends pouring out drinks onto the cobblestones of Second Street. It was, in fact, a touch surreal.)
Here’s a sampling of the comments from Pop’s:
From Romero: “I’m really, really saddened by this loss. I just hope I eventually get to see him again. I’m not a religious person, but for the sake of hope, I do hope there’s some way. Kenny cared, he loved without limits.”
From regular Jim Peltz, his voice just above a whisper: “A good guy to know. Someone you’d certainly want on your side, in any kind of situation. Kenny was our go-to, a rock-solid figure. A man’s man. This is a big loss for the entire industry.”
Friends Lindsey Wirth and Crystal Davis: "I was an industry employee and he was my therapist. He was the best listener and the most-amazing partner-in-crime you could ask for… he gave the best advice. Everywhere he went, he sent the best vibes." "Ketel One and a can of pineapple juice. That's what we'd like to call the bat signal. When you knew Kenny wanted to see you, he'd take a picture of your favorite drink and he'd send it to you. He'd have the Ketel One and pineapple juice just waiting for you, with a smile."
Reached by text, before her trip to St. Louis, Thone’s sister, Kim Thone Visintine noted that “Kenny was just an all-around great guy. Everyone knew him and everyone loved him. I’ve seen so many people post that he never met a stranger and that is a very true statement. I’m going to miss him terribly, as are all of my family members.”
Visitation information:
Saturday, September 5, 4:00-8:00 PM
Hutchens Mortuary & Cremation Center
675 Graham
Florissant, MO
314-831-3100
