
Monday I left work at 630 and still got to the Underground Wonder Bar at 710 N Clark St a lil too early for the Memorial to Steve Beshekas who I knew from the years I was a regular at Ranalli’s on Clark and he was the morning/day time manager. Pretty much everyone that worked there w/ the exception of the people I did not see that worked the phones were friend if not like family to me. Pretty much anyone that knew me, knew if they couldn’t reach me at home or the MK ULTRA office, I’d be at Ranalli’s. or when we hung out it’s where we went 90% of the time. When I did interviews w/ bands, or porn stars, I took them to Ranalli’s and when we shot the episode of the Showtime Reality show Family Business (Seymour Butts) it took place there.
Over the years Steve and I would talk about his friend ship and work w/ John Belushi who was a close friend of his. I was always amazed. Steve was older when I met him, in his late 50’s and I knew nothing nor did I suspect anything about him running a famous club, being known as the Prince of Wells Street, or his professional work in comedy with Belushi, Akroyd and the like.
In the early morning hours on the first Saturday of last November I heard on the radio that Steve Beshekas was the sole causality of an apartment building fire not far from me and I sent a quick text to a mutual friend Steve Franks who I knew was still close to Mr Beshekas. I followed a few hours later and called Steve, he looked into it and began notifying the people from Ranalli’s.
Posted 11/5/11 8:14 a.m.
CHICAGO (WLS) - An intoxicated 63-year-old man may have fallen asleep while smoking a cigarette before he burned to death in his Lake View apartment Friday night on the North Side.
Steve Beshekas, 63, of 540 W. Wellington Ave., died of thermal burns and smoke inhalation injuries from an apartment fire, according to the Cook County Medical Examiner’s office. A Sunday autopsy also listed alcohol intoxication as a cause of death, which was ruled an accident.
Police responded about 5:30 p.m. Friday to a call of smoke in the three-story, multi-unit apartment building, Town Hall District police Lt. Robert Stasch said. A preliminary investigation found Beshekas fell asleep while smoking. Beshekas was found on the floor near the front door of his apartment, where he lived alone, authorities said. “It appears he was trying to crawl out, but was overcome by smoke and flames,” Stasch said. Paramedics took Beshekas from his home to Advocate Illinois Masonic Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead at 6 p.m. Friday, authorities said.
Another person was taken to Illinois Masonic Medical Center in fair to serious condition, according to the fire department, which said the blaze was contained to one apartment. Nobody was displaced, Stasch said.
Belmont Area detectives and the Office of Fire Investigations are investigating.
The Sun-Times Media Wire contributed to this report.
Over the weeks to follow a celebration of his life was planned in Chicago into the New Year, by his friend, musician Pete Special and sister Dolly.
When I walked into the Underground Wonderbar I was awestruck by the blues based decor and the art work as well as how nicely the all female staff were dressed. For a Monday night in Chicago it reflected an ambiance of elegance, class with a dash of fun thrown in for that extra kick.
At the far end of the narrow but long room was a stage with a black grand piano. Original works of art, most of them hand-painted, and memorabilia covered the walls and at the entrance on a landing an n front of the large window facing Clark Street was a shrine to our fallen comrade Steve Beshekas. There were so many pictures of the man, young, and smiling with that hint of mischief and sparkle in his eyes./ I never knew Steve when he wasn’t silver haired and walking with a bit of a limp. But he always did flash that grin that we all knew hid many secrets. At least that is what I like to think.
The first familiar face I saw was that of Sue Ranalli and we exchanged hugs and pleasantries. As exhausted as I was I looked around more before noticing all of the food she had provided. It was like one of the spreads from the many birthday parties I held within the walls of Ranalli’s on Clark which was under Tower Records at Clark and Belden. I made a plate and sat and was then introduced to Steve’s sister Dolly who I had been communicating with over the weeks through email. She was very gracious and seemed as fun loving and friendly as her brother.
By 730 the bar was getting crowded mostly with former staff and regulars from Ranalli’s. For a moment all of us huddled at he middle of the bar it seemed like old days. Only we were all now a few years older and much in our lives had changed yet I was surprised to learn how many of us still lived in the same places as we did last we saw each other. By the 8 o’clock hour the place was overcrowded and me being exhausted and feeling claustrophobic made an exit a little after 8. As I left more and more Ranalli’s staffers were coming in. It was sweet but bittersweet given the circumstances of this reunion. The likes that the passing of one such as Steve Beshekas could bring.
In a nutshell it was a great feeling overall seeing so many old friends and I wish there was a way, to do something like this on an annual basis. And since it looks like I won;t be leaving Chicago anytime in the near future maybe in addition to getting back in the habit of promoting events and whoring out the MK ULTRA moniker, I can try to put an annual together. Time shall tell.
- az

John Belushi’s pal who ran secret Old Town club dies at 62
BY MAUREEN O’DONNELL Staff Reporter mdonnell@suntimes.com December 29, 2011 5:46PM
Steve Beshekas ran a clandestine club that was the hottest ticket in town — maybe the country.
He managed the Sneak Joint, an Old Town hangout for two big stars who were “on a mission from God” as they filmed a movie that showed Chicago in all its rustbelt glory.
After stocking the Sneak Joint with liquor and a great jukebox, John Belushi hired the gregarious Mr. Beshekas — whom he’d known since they were young men in Wheaton and Villa Park — to operate the private club for him and Dan Aykroyd.
After a long day of crashing cars, fighting Illinois Nazis and singin’ the blues, Belushi and Aykroyd, aka Joliet Jake and Elwood, wanted a place where they could let off steam from making the 1980 film “The Blues Brothers.”
You never knew who was going to walk into the joint near North and Wells. Jackson Browne, the Eagles, Robin Williams and the gang from Second City dropped by and hung out with Mr. Beshekas.
“He was at the epicenter of a lot of fun,” said Belushi’s widow, Judy Belushi Pisano. “Steve was one of John’s best friends.”
“People offered huge money to get in there,” said Second City and Saturday Night Live alum Tim Kazurinsky. “It was the least glamorous place you could imagine, but it became mythic.”
Mr. Beshekas knew how to be a great host. “Treat the stars like folks,” he’d say, “and the folks like stars.”
If Beshekas’ name sounds familiar, it may be because Belushi routinely dropped the name when he was roaring through Saturday Night Live as one of its original Not Ready for Prime Time Players. When Belushi had to introduce himself in a skit, he’d often say, “I’m Steve Beshekas.”
“Anytime he needed a name, he’d say ‘Steve Beshekas,’” said his sister, Dolly Beshekas Rada.
Mr. Beshekas, 62, died last month in a fire in his apartment in the 500 block of West Wellington. Authorities said it may have begun from his own cigarette, but his sisters say that couldn’t have been. After years of running clubs, Steve hated smoking, said Dolly and another sister, Cookie Beshekas Brandt.
A neighbor said Steve was safely outside, but ran back into his apartment to try to save his cat, Yoda. The cat survived the fire — barely — but had to be euthanized, Dolly Rada said.
Mr. Beshekas had always been an animal lover, Cookie said — the kid who freed the lightning bugs from the jar when the other kids weren’t looking; the boy who couldn’t shoot a deer on a hunting trip.
An autopsy showed Mr. Beshekas was intoxicated. His sisters said he sometimes drank more than they liked. He had trouble finding a job, they said, after the closure of the restaurant where he had been a manager, Ranalli’s on Clark.
“The recession was bad, and he says to me, ‘Who wants a 60-year-old bartender?’ ” Cookie recalled. “I think he drank a little bit too much, had a little bit too much free time on his hands.”
And after his friend Belushi died in 1982 of a drug overdose at the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood, Mr. Beshekas “was never the same,” Dolly said.
He told his sisters: “ ‘If I was there, he wouldn’t have died.’” Mr. Beshekas was a pallbearer at Belushi’s funeral.
Mr. Beshekas grew up in Villa Park and went to Willowbrook High School. He dabbled in theater and football, and hung out with teammate Tino Insana, a Belushi buddy who would go on to be a busy Hollywood voice actor.
With their Mediterranean and Orthodox backgrounds, Belushi and Beshekas hit it off, Cookie said. Mr. Beshekas, Belushi and Insana formed a comedy improv troupe, the West Compass Players. They visited the Urbana-Champaign area, where Judy studied at the University of Illinois. At one point, singer “Dan Fogelberg opened the show for them,” Pisano said.
When Belushi and Insana were accepted at Second City — and Beshekas was not — “he never begrudged them going on to better things,” Kazurinsky said.
And Belushi and Insana “never stopped being great pals to Steve,” Kazurinsky said. “He was really a gracious and fun guy. He always had a smile and a slap on the back for you.”
“He always wanted to be the host,” said Cookie. “Even going to the hardware store, if he didn’t make somebody laugh, he felt like he wasn’t living up to what he needed to do.”
Mr. Beshekas cut a commanding figure. His lush head of hair and luxurious moustache made him resemble “a Greek god,” his sisters said. “He had the long hair and the earring,” Dolly said, “and my dad’s freaking out — you know, an old Greek: ‘Get a haircut!’”
After the Sneak Joint, “We helped him get established in another place,” said Pisano. Mr. Beshekas opened U.S. Blues Bar at 1446 N. Wells.
Things went well for a time, his sisters said. The bar sported Blues Brothers memorabilia, including a car model that hung from the ceiling, said Pisano.
But his marriage broke up; the building sold. A new lease was hard to come by. “He was a good host,” Cookie said, “but not with paperwork.’’
Mr. Beshekas is also survived by a nephew and three nieces who will miss his practical jokes.
A celebration of his life is planned in Chicago in the New Year, said his friend, musician Pete Special.
Contributing: James Scalzitti