The Zest Of Zeke Friends Bid A Fond Farewell To Restaurant's Big-Hearted Proprietor Submitted: N.O.V.A. November 2005 Source: Times Picayune 10-24-2005 ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** Like Archie and Angela at the top of the New Orleans alphabet, you didn't need a last name to identify the character at the bottom of the alphabet. Zeke. The big-hearted, mischievous proprietor of Zeke's Restaurant on Metairie Road -- a never-ending source of amusement for the city's golf, racetrack, fishing, hunting, sports bar and restaurant crowd -- 6-foot-6 James Flynn "Zeke" Unangst surrounded himself with a cast of characters Damon Runyon could not have dreamed up. That same lineup of rogues who so adored his antics and zest for life gathered at St. Catherine of Siena Church at Bonnabel Boulevard and Metairie Road Monday to say goodbye to yet another Orleanian who made this city so special. "He touched the hearts of so many people, to have this happen, it challenges your faith," said best pal Rick Kohnke in his eulogy. "He was a big physical specimen, seemingly invincible, and to have this happen at 49 years old, it seems like a bad dream." Unangst, a Katrina evacuee, died in Houston of complications from a staph infection following gall bladder surgery. Famed for singing David Allan Coe's "You Never Even Called Me by My Name" to the customers at his seafood restaurant, the generous, passionate Irish- German was described by many as "a big goofy guy," but a guy who made people laugh and smile and put them at ease, said Kohnke. That ethnic combination, he suggested, "may have been the key to figuring out why Zeke was Zeke. His German tendencies were structure and routine but his Irish side allowed him to open up and sing loud and often." Not to mention the reputation of those two nationalities for their appreciation of beer and partying. Louisiana State University Basketball Coach John Brady drove in for the services. There was a large purple and gold floral arrangement on the casket, along with pictures of friends and good times. Unangst went to Final Fours, World Series, the Kentucky Derby, and Saints, LSU, Tulane, Hornets and, going back, Jazz and Buccaneers games. He was a Fair Grounds regular. "A familiar scene was Zeke tearing up losing tickets," Kohnke said. In Zeke's world were characters named Big Hammer, Mullet, Pee-Wee, Rooster, Hambone, Dogbone, Doodle Bug, Packy and Whooshie. "I don't even know their real names," said Kohnke. You met Zeke and you loved him -- it was that simple. "It's hard to imagine life without Zeke," said Jim Hunter, Zeke's partner in fantasy football for years, and the owner of Southern Eagle, the Budweiser distributorship here. "He was a big adolescent kid with arrested development who was impossible not to love," said Hunter's wife, Jeanne. "It's very sad." The walls of Zeke's Restaurant, which just reopened after the storm, are adorned with photographs of him with pals such as Samford University Basketball Coach Jimmy Tillette, Delgado Baseball Coach Joe Scheuermann, and Mike Rodrigue of Acme Oyster House, with whom Zeke supported many charity golf tournaments. There's Archie Manning, there are all the Manning family jerseys, Zeke's diploma from Delgado Community College Culinary Arts School and pennants for many area high schools, including some that ain't dere no more, such as St. Aloysius. A Kennedy High School and University of Southwestern Louisiana graduate, Zeke played defensive end for USL, where his position coach was none other than the oft-maligned Carl Smith, offensive coordinator for ex-Saints Coach Jim Mora. He came home for Mardi Gras one year and went to work with his brothers Dickie and Joey and Carl Huling at Fat Harry's on St. Charles Avenue near Napoleon. He also spent time at 4141 on St. Charles, Franky and Johnny's on Arabella Street and the West End Cafe. He learned his crawfish recipe from Junior Morrealle at Franky and Johnny's. Like a lot of other bar and restaurant owners, he enjoyed patronizing his colleagues' establishments. At F&M Patio Bar one night, he fell in love with the David Allan Coe song and it became his signature song -- not that he could sing. But it didn't matter and the customers loved it. At least that's what he would say of the song that has been labeled the perfect country song because it mentions mama, trains, pickup trucks, prison and getting drunk. It's also one of the great singalong songs of all time. "There's an old saying that in order to enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites," said longtime friend and employee Dennis Fitzgerald. "You talk about a guy who took really big bites out of life -- that was Zeke." Darren Smith, known as "Chef Smitty," had been with Zeke through many of his stops for 21 years. "He was like my brother," said Smith, who was with him in Houston at the end. Unangst never went to Tulane University a day in his life, but by special double-secret dispensation, he was initiated into Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity, and known as "Zeke the Deke." He was also very proud of having ridden in the Rex parade as a substitute rider and for being an honorary member of the Karnak Galactic Racing Stable. On one wall of his restaurant there's a letter from ex-LSU Coach Nick Saban, thanking him for hosting the entire Tiger football team when they played in the Nokia Sugar Bowl in 2002. He grew up in the same Gentilly neighborhood as Isidore Newman School Softball Coach Jan Ezzell. About four years ago, their paths crossed, they started dating and they began a close relationship. At the services, Kohnke looked at Ezzell and said, "Jan, you brought incredible happiness into Zeke's life." In a city that has witnessed the premature deaths of many beloved public figures, including Wally Pontiff Jr., Frank Mackel and Butch Duhe, it's never easy. Officiating at the ceremony, the Rev. John Patrick Finn, pastor of St. James Major Church in Gentilly, a family friend, urged mourners to "please do not say 'goodbye' to Zeke, but 'until we meet again.' " The funeral procession, including Zeke's mom, Shirley, proceeded down the aisle to the strains of that famed Catholic religious hymn "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." And they wound up back at Zeke's Restaurant, where "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" was played for hours.