It was a lucky day for St. Charles when Ron Onesti strolled into town

When Ron Onesti strolled into our service club meeting in 2005, my first reaction was this guy looked like the type who hung around my old neighborhood in Chicago.

There was no way to know that 20 years later, it would be clear he was this area’s “Greatest Showman.”

Onesti was making his rounds at Tri-Cities area service clubs that year to introduce himself and explain his role as the new operator of a St. Charles gem — the Arcada Theatre along Main Street in the heart of downtown.

It’s been an entertainment venue since 1926, thanks to the vision and generosity of Lester and Dellora Norris. But it had hit hard times decades later, despite the work of previous operators, including St. Charles business leader Ruby Frank and her son Craig in the years before Onesti came upon the scene.

Still, my initial impression of Onesti was correct. He grew up near Taylor Street in the Little Italy portion of Chicago. I was farther south, near Midway Airport in the Chicago Lawn area of the city. But my mother’s side of the family was Italian — and that side was really big.

In watching Onesti turn the Arcada into a terrific entertainment center again with all sorts of new amenities, including resurrecting the Arcada Club nightclub on the second floor, it was the personal stuff about him that continued to resonate.

As I did, as a player for about three decades, he loved 16-inch softball. So much so that one of his first business ventures was to operate a Softball City store to provide balls, bats and uniforms to serve Chicago’s beloved 16-inch softball world.

My friends and I used to drive into the city from the suburbs in the mid 1970s to watch 16-inch games at Kelly Park, on California Avenue near Archer. It wouldn’t surprise me if a young Ron Onesti was hanging around there, too.

As I did, he went through a disco dancing phase, of which he often speaks fondly. For me, it was another sport I was good at, having learned how to dance at a young age.

Ultimately, Onesti turned his attention to music and promoting his passion for it. That led him to St. Charles at a time it really needed someone to save the theater, and he delivered on that promise he first made when doing the service club circuit.

His recent induction into the virtual Rock Godz Hall of Fame confirms that people behind the scenes of our favorite concerts deserve recognition. After all, the Arcada is only a slice of the venues and events Onesti organizes, promotes and delivers throughout Chicagoland. He is still a fixture in Little Italy and has instilled his theater revival skills in Des Plaines. His roots with Italian food are also apparent at the restaurants he operates.

No one needs me to proclaim Onesti “The Greatest Showman” of our time in the Tri-Cities. He just is.

I’ve seen enough different things at the Arcada — from Graham Nash, The B-52’s, America, Dionne Warwick, Shirley MacLaine, Don Rickles, numerous silent films, and the Arcada’s own crooner Johnny Maggio, to my favorite, a Las Vegas live production of “The Three Stooges” — to know the ‘Showman’ title fits him.

An acquaintance once asked, “Is that the guy who always has his photo in the paper?”

Well, yes, he is. He thinks the world of his staff, the performers who come to the Arcada and others he has met in his life. The photos of those people with him in his weekly Daily Herald column serve as a “look who is here now!” promotion, rather than him stroking an ego.

To that, we can only say thanks to “The Greatest Showman” for spinning his magic in downtown St. Charles all these years.

Keeping kids safe

Consider this a shoutout to all the men and women throughout the area who keep our kids, and drivers, safe by working as crossing guards during the school year.

I can only speak about the one I see every morning on my drive over to the Persinger Recreation Center in Geneva. She works the crosswalk at Viking Drive and Kaneville Road, guiding kids, as well as the heavy car and bus traffic going into the Geneva North and South middle schools — or those of us just making our way past that school entrance road.

This is a tricky spot because sometimes the buses lined up to turn left into the school entrance can block your view of the crossing guard. So, of course, drivers have to be smart when near a busy school area.

Still, this crossing guard is fast and demonstrative when directing cars. You always know what you are supposed to do.

And so do the guards — keeping everyone safe.

Service from top spot

Because I have no idea how the numerous service clubs in the Tri-Cities operate in choosing their leaders, I can only speak about the one of which I was a member for more than 20 years.

In this case, it is about the club president and my friend, Brian Henry. He’s been president of the Tri-Cities Exchange Club for nearly 10 years.

That may not sound like a big deal, except this is a club that changed its president every year for decades. In short, we all had to step up to do it at some point.

But, like many service clubs, older members pass away, move to warmer climates, leave because of family commitments, or have work schedule changes, etc. Ultimately, you run out of members willing to take the lead, or wanting to do it a second or third time.

Henry could see that and pretty much saved the club by taking on the task — and knowing no one else was banging down the door to do it, while also seeing the benefit in keeping someone familiar with the club and its various fundraising efforts in charge.

Ultimately, we need service clubs more than ever to help worthy causes, and we need guys like Brian Henry just in case alternating the club leader has fallen on hard times.

In addition to funding social service agencies or school projects, each club has a major cause. For the Exchange Club, it is prevention of child abuse, handing out American flags along parade routes and recognizing high school students who have overcome major challenges to graduate.

A life policy mystery

At first, my family members were quite stumped when going through more paperwork in my mother’s files — this mystery coming two years after her passing at age 96.

The phone call came from Albuquerque, New Mexico, where my mom spent the last 20 years of her life. My sister informed me my parents had taken out what appeared to be a whole life insurance policy on me when I was born in Chicago in 1953. Neither my younger sister nor my older brother had such paperwork that anyone knew of.

It didn’t take long for my reporter and history-buff instincts to kick in. It had to have something to do with being a sign of the times.

Those times were frightening for young parents with newborns because the polio virus was a major concern, especially in big cities.

I researched that possibility, and sure enough, it was fairly common for insurance agents to be selling policies for newborns in case they contracted the illness early in life, or just after birth. The policy was for $1,000 with a $10.67 annual premium.

If I had gone on to meet my maker in short order, that $1,000 would cover the cost of my delivery at the hospital, as well as any medical attention or arrangements afterward.

I discovered the policy issuer, The National Life and Accident Insurance Company, no longer existed, having been bought out by an outfit called American General.

I called that company and was actually surprised the representative dug up my policy in the database through the policy number, while also noting it was no longer in effect. Most likely, these $10.67 payments ended with my father’s passing in 2006 or even earlier.

The lady on the phone said it wasn’t common for her to hear about these types of policies, but confirmed they have occurred and it points to the polio scare, which of course subsided a year after I was born with the Salk vaccine in 1954.

Anyone born in that era in a large city quite possibly has a similar life insurance packet at the bottom of their deceased parents’ files.

Next in line for Lazarus

The list of executive directors who have served the Lazarus House homeless shelter in downtown St. Charles since it first opened in 1997 has been short, but impressive.

After the long tenure of the shelter’s first and most prominent spokesperson in Darlene Marcusson from 1997 to 2010, those who have followed in that leadership role were Liz Eakins, Leanne Deister Goodwin, and Julie Purcell.

Last week, Purcell notified those at Lazarus House she was leaving her post as executive director after 14 years of service at the shelter, with the past four in the director role.

The Lazarus House board was on the search for a new executive director last week, and based on its past record of finding new leaders, we can expect to hear soon who will be next to guide this important service in the Tri-Cities.

Purcell will stay on until a transition is complete.

dheun@sbcglobal.net