Riverfront Times, November 2, 2022

TABLE OF CONTENTS

EUCLID

JEREMY WEIS

FRONT BURNER

THREE QUESTIONS for Joshua Lawrence of STLPoliticClips

Joshua Lawrence, 29, is the founder of the popular Twitter account @STLPoliticClips, which reposts clips from St. Louis city’s Board of Aldermen meetings. RFT spoke with Lawrence, a Fenton native, to learn more about him, his page and the BOA.

How did you start STL PoliticClips?

I guess the first iteration of STL PoliticClips was just my own per sonal Twitter account. If something odd happened at a board meet ing, I would pull the video and just caption it “I love this city.”

It became more formal after discovering the work of Gerry Con nolly (@GConnolly314), a local TIF watchdog following and publiciz ing nearly every development in STL. [I realized] that an archive of BOA meetings was needed. If every project stands on the shoulders of giants, Gerry is the giant which helped catalyst the project.

More formally, I was also volunteering on various BOA [election] campaigns. ... I noticed there was a disconnect from what people thought was going on and what was actually going on. People be lieved that certain alders were “progressive” when in reality they were always parroting right-wing talking points during meetings.

That is not the public’s fault. Government and legislation is pur posefully obtuse and hard to decipher, especially for the proletariat.

What are your favorite clips?

Car Wash Daddy [a nickname for Joe Vaccaro, the alderman for Ward 23] vacuuming during a meeting is one I reference often, alongside former Alderman of Ward 21 John Collins-Muhammad getting a haircut during live session — it was towards the end of the meeting and nothing vital but still very funny that it happened.

I’d also be remiss to not mention Alderwoman Shameem ClarkHubbard’s (and countless co-sponsors) Civilian Oversight Board. To be honest, any clip of Alderwoman Clark-Hubbard showcases a lot of knowledge and compassion.

What are some important bills and conversations going on within the BOA?

As far as specifics go, the Lighthouse Point development proj ect north of the Chain of Rocks is the big topic of debate currently ongoing.

It involves building a marina water park in a floodplain, a thing people should definitely know about. It’s fairly complicated, as development is certainly needed as areas of our city have been purposefully disinvested due to racist policy. The question is how and what will help all succeed. I truthfully don’t know the answer but remain hopeful for the future.

Previously On

LAST WEEK IN ST. LOUIS

MONDAY, OCTOBER 24 It was inevitable that it would happen here — this is Amer ica, this is 2022 — and yet it was no less horrible for it. Just before 9:30 a.m., St. Louis joined the ranks of just about every major American city and endured a school shooting. A beloved teacher was killed. A 15-year-old student was killed. The gun man was killed — but not before he injured seven others. It was a dark day for Central Visual and Performing Arts High School It was just another day in America.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25 The shooter had a manifesto — and a strangely clinical way of describing his lonely existence. (His life was a “perfect storm for a mass shoot ing”?) He also had an AR-15 and 600 rounds of ammo. Again, no one was really surprised. Rain poured. That felt fitting.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26 The St. Louis police’s swift CVPA response has even crit ics saying nice things. It’s nice to know that shooting first and then asking questions has its uses. Thanks, SLMPD! Stories about the brave kids in hospital beds had us all in tears. Can Missouri get a red-flag law already? Oh, and one piece of good news: Adam Wainwright is coming back — the pitching ace decided he had unfin ished business. Let’s hope Eric Greitens does not come to a similar conclusion.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27Govenor Mike

ESCAPE HATCH

Parson told KSDK he does not support a red-flag law. Quoth the former sheriff, “I’ve been a law-abiding citizen all my life. I’m going to support people to have weapons that are law-abiding citizens. I’m never going to take that right away from them.” So, we can count on our next school shooter also having no criminal re cord. Comforting.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28 Some QAnon nut job attacked House Speaker Nancy Pe losi’s husband with a hammer. The PostDispatch reports St. Charles County spent $850K to settle claims against former Police Chief David Todd. Todd allegedly harassed two lawyers — because if you’re going to make comments about how “smoking hot” a colleague is, it’s always wise to choose one with a law degree.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29 Glorious weath er, Halloween parties galore … Saturday was the reset we all needed. Also, Nolan Arenado is staying! Anyone else getting excited about the Cards in 2023?

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30 Rain means glis tening gorgeous leaves. Enjoy them while you can — winter is coming. A kid was shot and killed in a church parking lot in Floris sant; a man was shot and killed in Gravois Park. The St. Louis area has nearly 300 homicides in 2022. Few get national cov erage or any pushes for policy changes.

We ask three St. Louisans what they’re reading, watching or listening to. In the hot seat this week: three area actors.

ELLIE SCHWETYE, actor and artistic director for Slightly Askew Theatre Ensemble Watching: Agatha Christie TV adaptations on BritBox in anticipation of PBS’s adaptation of Anthony Horowitz’s The Magpie Murders “Something about the days getting shorter really gives me a craving for mysteries and suspense.”

RON HIMES, actor and artistic director for the Black Rep Listening to: Sounds from the Ancestors by Kenny Garrett “I have music playing when I’m learning lines, which is what I’m doing right now. I’m actually in Nebraska playing Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman.”

JACQUELINE THOMPSON, actor, director, UMSL professor Watching: Abbott Elementary “Watching it brings back a lot of nostalgia from when I taught elemen tary school.”

Joshua Lawrence deciphers BOA meetings for the proletariat. | BENJAMIN SIMON

DUMPSTER WATCH

SO ST. LOUIS A Wild Adventure

An anonymous story about something that could only happen in the Gateway City

As I got ready to depart my home with my shopping cart it was merely drizzling so I thought I was safe with just my blue SLU cap but the rain picked up until I found myself trudging under a torrential down pour when suddenly an unfamil iar SUV pulled erratically up and a woman inside insisted I take a ride and though I hesitated for a second common sense dictated I get in and it was a lovely ride with no questions and the driver blessed me as I got out and I did my soaking wet shopping and

came out to enjoy my two donuts and a man was there looking for odd jobs whispering about my do nuts so I gave him a half and my lighter was wet so he kindly went in to buy me one but it finally worked and when he came out I nonetheless gave him bread and a soda and then my artist friend showed up and walked me to the bus and we talked amiably about Halloween and then it started raining hard again and a woman came over and enveloped me in her huge umbrella and then the nice warm dry bus showed up and I made it home.

Send your So St. Louis story to jrogen@euclidmediagroup.com.

CHRIS ANDOE’S SOCIETY PAGE

On the 31st floor of 100 Above the Park, the striking origamilike sculpture dominating the Central West End skyline, exiled Bostonians Tom Choinski and Steve Jewett hosted a party in their fashionable corner apartment.

While St. Louis’ social scene is known to be challenging for outsiders to navigate, Choinski says joining an organization was the secret to his success. “My experience in the gay men’s choral movement in other cities told me joining the local organization would be an instant ‘starter kit’ for your first 50 new friends and acquaintances. It was no different here. We’ve moved on since then, but the connections were made.”

One regular at Choinski and Jewett’s curated soirees is Londoner James Frey Croft. He came to St. Louis in 2014 to complete his training as an ethical cultural leader with the Ethical Society of St. Louis, and extended his stay after getting involved in the Ferguson uprising. He is returning home in December. Besides occasionally running across him at South Broadway’s Bar PM, where his husband performs drag, I only spend time with him at Choinski and Jewett’s parties, and I’ve enjoyed many lively discussions with him. For instance, I remember when the Brit once scoffed when I described Cahokia Mounds as “ancient.”

“Ancient?” Croft exclaimed. “They’re not even that old!”

We can sometimes forget that 1,000 years isn’t that noteworthy outside of the Americas.

For his part, Choinski likens St. Louis to Rome around 600 B.C. “The city has a large footprint, but its population has shrunk. It’s a village inside a city. It’s no coincidence I run into the same people all the time like a badly written soap opera.”

In the wake of Queen Elizabeth’s passing, Croft delighted the table with a quip about how even porn stores in Great Britain had displays honoring her.

Guests, who ranged in age from 30s to 60s, also included “Maven of Mardi Gras” Luann Denten, who was on our January 29, 2020, cover (Choinski and the Maven are also in my latest book, House of Villadiva). The Maven’s

Vices & Virtues Mardi Gras Krewe, with St. Louis Barcycle, had just hosted a Historic Soulard Brewery Tour.

Every St. Louis neighborhood has its own unique flavor, which I find endlessly interesting. Much of the Central West End is uncommonly cosmopolitan and transient, as demonstrated by Croft and by the hosts, who will return to Boston in just over a year.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have neighborhoods like Soulard, which certainly has a new transient component with the recent construction of so many upscale rental units, but is largely controlled by entrenched stakeholders with simmering rivalries. A guest mentioned that when the owner of St. Louis Barcycle announced at a community meeting that his business contributed to the Maven’s Vices & Virtues 501(c)(3), the president of a neighborhood organization, who is not a fan of hers, reportedly booed.

Croft asked what I was working on, and I announced I would be writing a society column in the RFT. “Do we have society in St. Louis?” he quipped.

“We are dining atop a skyscraper, so I think this counts,” I replied.

Implied in the question is if we have enough interesting people to cover, and for me that answer is a resounding yes. We are a city of characters and backstory, but also with fresh and vibrant scenes. My aim is to highlight the region’s most intriguing people and to bring the reader along as my plus-one to the most fascinating cocktail parties and events.

I’m a native of Oklahoma. I thrived in San Francisco for eight years, was chewed up and spat out by New York in a matter of months, and have lived in St. Louis three times since first com ing here in 1997 — continually pulled back to this complicated place that I call my muse.

This place has a profound culture, and I yearned for it when I was away. Enough of an insider to know what’s going on, and enough of an outsider to know why it’s interesting, my goal is to make others see our culture and love it a bit more.

And even for those who see St. Louis as a soap opera, I’ll at least strive to make sure it’s not badly written.

“It’s actually so crazy that school shootings still happen when our legislature has done so much thinking and prayer after each one of these tragedies.”

Matt Ragsdale in response to the school shooting story last week

Tom Choinski and Steve Jewett’s Elevated Soiree

HARTMANN

Democracy on the Run in Suburban St. Louis

A vote for Ann Wagner is a vote for Marjorie Taylor Greene

BY RAY HARTMANN

On February 4, 2021, Rep resentative Ann Wagner, R-Ballwin, was just beside herself with indignation over the prior conduct of a fellow Republican congresswom an, Representative Marjorie Tay lor Greene, R-Transylvania.

“The statements and conspiracy theories promoted by Represen tative Greene, including QAnon, calling into question school shoot ings, anti-Semitic and other of fensive slurs and threats, have no place in the Republican party,” Wagner stated in a press release related to Greene getting stripped of all committee assignments. (Wagner didn’t support doing so.)

“To be clear, I find the statements and actions in question abhorrent and firmly untethered from real ity. They only serve to place peo ple in harm’s way and should be shunned by all Americans.

“I spoke with Representative Greene one on one last night and she made it clear to me she no lon ger believes the dangerous views espoused in her previous state ments, and that she will not ad vance such views as a Member of Congress. She has now publicly ex pressed regret on the Floor of the U.S. House for her past actions and statements.

“For now, I will take her at her word, but I will be watching.”

Wagner has been watching Greene, all right. Here’s what she has seen: The tin-foil-hat, bikerchic lady who had one too many free weights dropped on her head is suddenly the belle of the ball in today’s Republican Party.

Greene was given a great gift at the time of Wagner’s expression

of faux outrage. Losing committee assignments freed her to replace boring meetings with captivating daily media performances.

Greene has since launched an almost-daily onslaught of uncut anger and bigotry teeming with conspiracy theories and vulgar personal attacks. But strangely, in all that time, Wagner has not once deemed it necessary to call out any more of Greene’s “dangerous views.” Maybe she takes Greene “at her word” that Greene doesn’t pose the threat to human civiliza tion that an eye test would suggest.

It seems that Greene has par layed her outlandishness into one impressive fundraising machine. Greene ranked fourth among 212 Republicans by hauling in an as tonishing $7.4 million in political donations in 2021. (The top three are fueled by giant PACs that have avoided the strange lady so far.)

Don’t think that didn’t get Wag ner’s attention. Wagner chaired the Missouri Republican Party from 1999 to 2005, co-chairing the Republican National Committee for four of those years. Political fundraising was her life.

When Wagner first ran in 2012 for the seat she now holds — to re place the late Representative Todd Akin, fittingly enough her best theory of the case was a demon strated ability to raise money for Republican politicians. She had a large stack of IOUs to show for it.

If you’re thinking you can vote for the “old Ann” — as one Re publican friend likes to think of her — you are sadly misguided. The “new Ann” will be all in for Greene, serving every bit as much the enabler as she did for wan nabe autocrat Donald Trump.

You remember Trump? He was the guy Wagner demanded be re moved from the Republican ticket in 2016 — less than a month be fore the election — because of his moral unfitness as proven by his Access Hollywood scandal (and a few thousand others). He’s also the one she fawned over like a lovestruck middle-schooler from the moment he took office.

Wagner’s conversion from country-club Republican to extra terrestrial hasn’t drawn the atten tion it deserves locally. That’s in no small part, ironically, because Wagner only interacts with her “constituents” via press release, photo ops and fundraisers.

Wagner does have an opponent who would make a much bet ter congresswoman by the anti quated standard of caring about and meeting actual voters, as op posed to benefactors. Representa tive Trish Gunby, D-Ballwin, is the long-shot opponent who insists she can win the old-fashioned way by going door to door asking people for their votes.

Gunby is a centrist Democrat who says she won her state leg islative races in 2019 and 2020 in a divided district with the oldfashioned shoe-leather approach. It’s hard to believe that can work for an underfunded candidate in a congressional district of more than 760,000 people.

But it’s harder to scorn some one for idealism, especially when they’re running against an in cumbent devoid of humility or principle. Well, unless you’re a member of the editorial board of the formerly liberal St. Louis PostDispatch, which embarrassed it self by declining to endorse Gunby over Wagner (whom it had trashed over her MAGA conversion).

“Democrat Trish Gunby has rightly highlighted Wagner’s in accessibility but is otherwise run ning a standard liberal campaign instead of the centrist one needed

for that district,” the editorial whined, to the muffled backdrop of past Post editors spinning in their graves. Can’t be having any of this liberal stuff, can we?

At least the Post got the acces sibility part right. Gunby’s cam paign website features an “Absent Ann’s Town Hall Tracker” show ing the number of days (nearly 3,600) that Wagner has gone with out holding a town-hall meeting in her district. Of course, for Wagner debating an opponent is really out of the question.

To paraphrase an early, famous SNL skit about the phone compa ny: “Ann Wagner doesn’t care. She doesn’t have to.”

It’s hard to be optimistic about Gunby’s chances for a miracle upset. It would require an amaz ing turnout of voters angry about the loss of women’s reproductive freedom.

In a more idealistic world, Wagner’s career-long zealous op position to women’s freedom to choose might present a problem for her. But that’s not the one we’re living in.

Gunby can hold her head high for having run an honorable cam paign, which is more that anyone can say for Wagner. But there are no trophies for participation.

That’s why Wagner is probably looking forward to building a fine friendship with Greene if, as ex pected, Republicans regain major ity control of the House after next week’s election. Here’s how Greene explained to the New York Times what’s in store for the presumptive House Speaker Kevin McCarthy:

“I think that to be the best speak er of the House and to please the base, he’s going to give me a lot of power and a lot of leeway,” she pre dicted in a flat, unemotional voice. “And if he doesn’t, they’re going to be very unhappy about it.... And that’s not in any way a threat at all. I just think that’s reality.”

Yes, that’s reality. And so is this: Regardless of your past party af filiation, if you can’t bring your self to vote against Wagner the enabler, you own Marjorie Taylor Greene and all that will follow. n

Greene has launched an almost-daily onslaught of uncut anger and bigotry, teeming with conspiracy theories and vulgar personal attacks. But Wagner has not once deemed it necessary to call out any of Greene’s “dangerous views.”

Ray Hartmann founded the Riverfront Times in 1977. Contact him at rhartmann1952@ gmail.com or catch him at 7 p.m. on Thurs days on Nine PBS and St. Louis in the Know with Ray Hartmann from 9-11 p.m. Monday thru Friday on KTRS (550 AM).

St. Louis School Shooter Purchased Rifle from Private Seller

An FBI background check blocked one of suspect Orlando Harris’ previous attempts to buy a gun

Written by MONICA OBRADOVIC

The shooter suspected of mur dering a teacher and a stu dent at Central Visual and Performing Arts High School last week attempted to buy a gun from a licensed dealer early last month.

St. Louis police say that 19-yearold Orlando Harris on October 8 tried to purchase a firearm from a dealer in St. Charles, but an FBI background check blocked the sale. Harris’ family had him invol untarily committed, which shows up on background checks.

But Harris was able to success fully purchase the AR-15 rifle he used in the shooting from a pri vate seller, who purchased the weapon from a federally licensed dealer in December 2020.

According to police, there is no existing law that would have pre vented the private sale.

In addition, Missouri has no red-flag law, meaning police here would have had no authority to seize Harris’ rifle.

Harris’ mother called police on October 15, wanting the gun out of her house, according to St. Lou is Interim Police Commissioner Mike Sack.

The gun ended up in the possession of someone who knew the Harris family, though Harris was still legally allowed to keep it, per Missouri law.

It’s not yet clear how the gun

came into Harris’ possession a sec ond time. But details from KMOV suggest that Harris stored the gun in a private storage unit. Security footage shows Harris retrieving the gun before the October 24 shooting, when he entered his for mer high school with it along with 600 rounds of ammunition.

Harris’ family was aware of his weapon and mental-health strug gles. New reports from KSDK indi

cate that Harris told his psycholo gists about his plans to carry out a mass shooting at his former high school, but none of them reported his plans.

Sack said last week during a press conference that Harris’ mother and adult sister have been fully cooperative in their inves tigation into the school shooting and are “heartbroken” by Harris’ actions.

“The family appears to have done everything they could have possibly done to help this young man live with his mental-health issues,” Sack said.

Harris’ family had him commit ted on some occasions. His moth er and sister had a system to track what came in the mail for Harris and made sure he interacted with others “to try to ensure that he’s engaging [with] people, that he feels loved,” according to Sack.

Police previously revealed a portion of Harris’ manifesto, in which he wrote he’d been “an iso lated loner” his whole life with no

social life, friends or girlfriend, and no family.

Sack confirmed Harris was the only shooter involved in last week’s incident.

Agent Jay Greenberg with the FBI said his agency has since re ceived numerous hoax threats at area schools.

Fake shooting threats are gener ally easy to investigate, Greenberg said. However, due to the large volume of hoax threats made in recent days, “your students who are in school across the metro re gion are seeing an increase in po lice presence in each one of their schools.”

The volume of hoax threats has been so great that the FBI has not been able to identify every single threat, so authorities have deployed local police through out schools, “which means addi tional trauma for students,” Sack said.

Greenberg asked for parents to talk to their children to help re duce hoax threats. n

Orlando Harris purchased the gun legally from a private seller who had gotten it from a federally licensed dealer. | KMOV LIVESTREAM

According to police, there is no existing law that would have prevented the private sale. In addition, Missouri has no red-flag law, meaning police here would have had no authority to seize Harris’ rifle.

Are you ready to vote on November 8? ere’s a lot at stake in this year’s midterm election. Go to riverfronttimes.com to find out where to vote, what you need and how to get to the polls, plus all the latest on each of the Missouri races.

Lawsuit Alleges Missouri Department of Corrections Stonewalling Families

When their loved ones die in prison, families are le in the dark

Written by RYAN KRULL

This project was completed with the support of a grant from Columbia University’s Ira A. Lipman Center for Journalism and Civil and Human Rights in conjunction with Arnold Ventures.

LeVaughn James died in Missouri Department of Corrections custody June 1, less than two weeks before he was to be released. His mother, Mary James, had already sent the 45-year-old brand new clothes to wear home.

Now, almost five months later, James says she can’t find any closure because she still doesn’t know the circumstances surrounding her son’s death. That’s not for a lack of trying. Her lawyer, Brandon Jackson, has filed numerous Sunshine Law requests, but MODOC denies them anything of substance in what Jackson says are flagrant violations of state transparency laws.

Amid growing criticism of how governments in St. Louis handle Sunshine Law requests, relatively little attention has been paid to what some call egregious flouting of transparency laws by a state agency in whose custody 105 men have died so far this year.

LeVaughn James was sentenced in 2018 to four years in prison for stealing alcohol from a Ruth’s Chris Steak House. He had committed similar, nonviolent thefts in the past. In May, he was at the Northeast Correctional Center in Bowling Green, counting down the few remaining days until his release.

On almost-daily phone calls with his mom, he talked about how things would be different this time when he got out. He had a fiancée, Kimberly Campbell. Mary James says that representatives from parole had already visited Campbell’s house and deemed it a suitable place for him to live while on parole.

But when James didn’t hear from her son on May 22, she began to feel uneasy. She thought maybe he’d gotten in trouble and lost phone privileges. Two

days later, she called the prison and was connected to her son’s case manager.

“He’s not here,” was all the case manager said.

James was told that if she wanted any more information she was going to have to talk to the warden. But the warden was in a meeting and couldn’t talk on the phone.

So the next day, James contacted the Missouri Department of Corrections Constituent Services in Jefferson City.

A representative there told her LeVaughn had been involved in an incident in Bowling Green and had been transferred to Mercy Hospital in St. Louis.

“It looked like he got a hold of some K2,” James says the MODOC staffer told her. K2 is a generic term for synthetic marijuana. The staffer added: “If you can get to St. Louis, you should.”

The next day, James, her sister and step-daughter traveled from Chicago to St. Louis and were at LeVaughn’s bedside.

“When we got there, he was barely holding on,” James says.

LeVaughn was hooked to a ventilator and feeding tube, his eyes barely open.

The doctor told her his brain had been deprived of oxygen for an extended period of time, and he was brain dead. “If he came through this he wouldn’t be anything but a vegetable,” James remembers the doctor telling her.

He died five days later, 13 days before he was supposed to be a free man.

Immediately, for James, the pain of losing her son was compounded by the unanswered questions about how he died.

She wondered how synthetic marijuana had gotten into the prison, how it had put him in a comatose state and even if synthetic marijuana was to blame for her

son’s death. She couldn’t get access to an autopsy. She didn’t know what time her son went into distress or how long it took to get him medical attention.

Even before LeVaughn’s funeral, James made it her mission to figure out what had happened to him.

“The warden told me they were getting all the information together pertaining to LeVaughn,” she says. “But still nobody has contacted me since then.”

That was in June, and James quickly enlisted the help of Jackson, an attorney formerly with Brown and Crouppen and now with ArchCity Defenders, who has now been in a back-and-forth with MODOC for almost five months on James’ behalf. It started on June 17, when Jackson requested a slew of documents from the department of corrections, all of which he was certain ought to be available under the state’s Sunshine Law. He asked for the department’s entire investigative file related to LeVaughn’s death, the department’s policies regarding an inmate’s death, and policies and protocols related to controlled substances.

“My understanding is that the Missouri Department of Corrections has internal investigators that they employ when something serious happens. There may be an investigative file with pictures, documents and interviews. We requested that,” Jackson says.

He adds, “We did not receive anything.”

MODOC has given Jackson some documents related to LeVaughn’s prior incarceration. “But as far as I can tell they’ve given us none of the substantive information we’ve requested,” Jackson says.

This refusal to release these records is a violation of state transparency laws,

Jackson says.

That’s because Jackson is making these records requests under a specific subsection of the Sunshine Law, which says that the family of a person who dies in law enforcement custody, or an attorney working on that family’s behalf, is allowed to access records regarding the death even if those records would otherwise be closed.

“The law makes a clear exception for people like Ms. James, and their attorneys,” Jackson says.

However, Jackson says the department of corrections claims the provision of the Sunshine Law under which Jackson is re questing the investigative file does not ap ply to them because they say they are not a law enforcement agency.

After months of back and forth, last week in Cole County court, Jackson along with attorneys from the ACLU of Missouri filed a lawsuit against MODOC on Mary James’ behalf. The suit accuses the agency of “knowingly and purposefully” violating transparency laws and not adequately explaining the delays in providing records.

The suit argues that MODOC is a law enforcement agency, as evidenced by the fact that they investigate crimes that happen within their facilities. MODOC also enacted a program that allows probation and parole officers to arrest individuals suspected of violating the terms of their probation or parole.

RFT reached out to the department on October 4 to ask if they consider themselves a law enforcement agency or not as well as what sort of information about an inmate’s death families are allowed to have access to. We followed up two weeks later but never heard back.

Right now, Jackson and James can’t determine if the department followed the proper protocols following LeVaughn’s death because the department won’t release what those protocols are.

Jackson says he wants to know if the agency looks into who inmates talk to on the phone in the hours before their deaths, or if the investigators interview cellmates. Does MODOC contact local law enforcement? Run a toxicology test?

“There is a universe of information and rules that we don’t know about,” Jackson says.

James’ lawsuit isn’t the only one against MODOC alleging Sunshine Law violations. In another suit filed in August of last year, a Cole County judge has already agreed the agency is flouting state transparency laws.

The judge’s ruling was in response to a lawsuit filed by the family of Jahi Hynes, who died April 4, 2021, in MODOC custody.

Mary James’ son LeVaughn died while in MODOC custody. | RYAN KRULL

STONEWALLING

The lawsuit states that corrections officials told the Hynes family nothing about Jahi’s death other than that he “hurt himself.”

Similar to James, the Hynes family requested the full investigation report related to Jahi’s death, as well as numerous other materials.

When pressed on why the department wasn’t releasing information about Jahi’s death, MODOC allegedly contended they were not a law enforcement agency and that releasing information about inmate death threatened “institutional security.”

Also, according to the lawsuit, correc tions’ attorneys stated that investigation reports were closed records because some contained information “which would benefit any individual looking for an op portunity to disturb the institution and its inhabitants.” Department attorneys con ceded that this “exception does not cover the entirety of the investigation reports.”

However, the state Sunshine Law seems to be pretty straightforward on this exact circumstance: “If a public record contains material which is not exempt from disclosure as well as material which is exempt from disclosure, the public governmental body shall separate the exempt and nonexempt material and make the nonexempt material available for examination and copying.”

The Hynes family sued for the records in August 2021. In a summary judgment issued in April, Cole County Judge Daniel Green ruled that the corrections department “violated the Sunshine Law by denying Plaintiff access to ‘offender records’ and the reports and records pertaining to the investigation of Jahi Hynes’

death.”

MODOC has since appealed, and the case is still working its way through the courts.

Lori Curry, executive director of the non profit Missouri Prison Reform, says she knows all too well the difficulties involved in getting records from the MODOC.

“It’s definitely not just families” that have trouble getting information they be lieve they are legally entitled to, Curry says.

Her own nonprofit requested internal communications among department per sonnel in May. In June they paid the $532 the department said the records would cost to release. To date, Missouri Prison Reform has only gotten around 20 percent of the material they’ve been promised.

Curry says that every week her orga nization files a Sunshine Law request for the names of inmates who have died while in MODOC custody. This informa tion, Curry says, wouldn’t be made public if the nonprofit didn’t proactively ask for it. Since they began this practice, she says on at least three occasions she’s been contacted by families who have had a loved one die while in custody, but whose names are missing from death logs.

“Not everyone in the state knows about our organization or to contact us,” Curry says. “So I have to wonder how many other people have not been included on those lists.”

Mary James says she was eventually able to get her son’s body from the Pike County coroner and sent to Chicago so that the family could hold a funeral. He was buried on June 11.

“Sure, he did bad things, but he never was one to hurt anyone,” James says. “He assured me he had gotten himself together and was not going back to prison. He was going to get out, get a job and marry his fiancée.”

LeVaughn James comatose in Mercy Hospita before he died. | COURTESY THE JAMES FAMILY

A Time for Mourning

Hundreds gathered at Central Visual and Performing Arts High School to remember lives lost in a mass shooting

Photos by THEO WELLING

Words by ROSALIND EARLY

Hundreds gathered outside of Central Visual and Per forming Arts High School last Wednesday to mourn victims of a school shoot ing there last week. Two victims, a teacher and a student, died and many more were injured.

At the candlelight vigil, people released balloons and doves in remembrance of sophomore

Alexzandria Bell and health teacher Jean Kuczka, the two vic tims who died. A third fatality was the gunman, identified by police as Orlando Harris, a 2021 Central Visual and Performing Arts graduate.

Relatives of the two victims spoke at the vigil, and many peo ple broke down into tears.

The south St. Louis high school shares a campus with Collegiate School of Medicine and Biosci ence.

The school is closed for the foreseeable future and classes, which will be held online, have been delayed another week as the community grieves. n

CELEBRATION OF THE

ASPECTS

A Date with the Executioner

BY MONICA OBRADOVIC

It’s been nearly 20 years since Kevin Johnson fired seven shots into William McEntee, killing the Kirkwood police sergeant in front of horrified onlookers, but Johnson can still recall the day in striking detail. The seeming smirk on McEntee’s face that triggered his anger. Johnson’s 12-year-old brother’s lifeless body, carried away on a stretcher two hours before. The time, down to the minute, that a chance encounter with McEntee resulted in the Kirkwood officer’s brutal death.

But still, 17 years of obsessive contemplation has brought Johnson not much more than confusion — and regret.

“I don’t even know why the shooting happened,” Johnson says. “I still to this day think about it.”

The story of what happened in Kirkwood on July 5, 2005, varies depending on who you ask. The version prosecutors tell begins that evening, when Johnson shot and murdered McEntee, a hus band and father of three, after he tried to carry out a warrant for Johnson’s arrest.

Johnson’s supporters contend his story starts several years before, when childhood abuse and neglect in what was then an impoverished neighborhood, Meacham Park,

forged a young mind that was mo ments away from falling off an edge — and that the death of John son’s 12-year-old brother Joseph “Bam Bam” Long earlier that day tipped him over it. Bam Bam suf fered a seizure as police searched for Johnson, who watched as McEntee barred his mother from

entering the house to aid her dy ing son. Bam Bam died that night. How could Johnson not snap?

But here are the facts. Then-St. Louis County Prosecuting Attor ney Robert McCulloch successfully convinced a predominantly white jury in 2007 to sentence Johnson, who is Black, to the death penalty. Johnson had two trials. The first ended with a hung jury. The sec ond resulted in his death sentence after the jury deliberated for four

hours. Appeal after appeal has since been denied.

Johnson’s case isn’t just a hold over from a time when St. Louis County elected a prosecutor who enthusiastically pushed for the death penalty — a prosecutor who’s since been ousted in the post-Fergu son movement that swept St. Lou is. It’s also a rare case of Missouri seeking to execute an offender for a crime he committed as a teenager. Since the Supreme Court issued a landmark decision in 2012 requir ing states to rethink how they han dle youthful offenders, Missouri has executed only one man for a crime he committed as a teen.

Johnson currently has an ap plication pending with the Con viction and Incident Review Unit in St. Louis County Prosecuting Attorney Wesley Bell’s office. The unit conducted a preliminary in vestigation and believes further investigation may be warranted.

However, one of Johnson’s former trial attorneys now works in Bell’s office, creating a conflict of inter est. The unit asked the Missouri Supreme Court to refrain from scheduling Johnson’s execution date until a new special prosecu tor can take his case.

In August, the court scheduled Johnson’s execution anyway. Barring a successful last-minute

This story was commissioned by the River City Journalism Fund as part of its inaugural series, Shadow of Death , which considers St. Louis County’s use of the death penalty.

Kevin Johnson, 37, is scheduled to be executed this month for the 2005 murder of Sgt. William McEntee. A father and grandfather, he doesn’t want to die. | JEREMY WEIS

Kevin Johnson killed a Kirkwood cop. After 17 years grappling with his guilt, his only hope is a last-minute reprieve

EXECUTIONER

legal maneuver, Johnson will die by lethal injection on Tuesday, November 29.

For now, Johnson doesn’t know whether he should hold out hope or prepare for death.

He’s 37. He was 19 when he killed Officer McEntee. He has a daughter, a new grandson. He says he wants to live for them.

“I started to get mad”

At Potosi Correctional Center in Washington County, Johnson tugs at the sleeve of his gray polo shirt. He uses it to cover his elbow as he talks, as if the surface of the met al prison table is too hard to rest on. Tattoos cover both his arms. They’re nearly indiscernible from behind wire mesh glass, but one on his left arm sticks out — a St. Louis Blues note.

Before his incarceration, John son was an athlete. His friends and teammates on Kirkwood High’s football team called him “Rockhead” for the way he bull dozed opposing teams with the top of his seemingly impervious head. His coaches had high hopes.

Today, at 5-foot-8 and 200 pounds, Johnson is burly. His voice is soft and his words intentional; he’s ea ger to talk. He’s written two books, one about his early childhood and another about his life in prison. But he’s never actually talked to a reporter before — and he wants, in what is likely among the last few weeks of his life, to state his case.

Yet he doesn’t assert his inno cence or complain about life’s in justices. He lays blame on himself.

“I think as humans, we tend to shift the blame,” Johnson says. “I don’t think [McEntee] did any thing that was wrong that day that I can even blame him for.”

On the day Johnson killed McEn tee, Kirkwood police were looking for Johnson. A fight with his daugh ter’s mother, Dana, had turned physical about two years before, and Johnson had landed a misde meanor assault charge. Police be lieved he’d violated the terms of his probation.

Around 5 30 p.m., two Kirk wood officers saw Johnson’s white Ford Explorer parked outside his grandmother’s house in Meacham Park.

Johnson saw them arrive from a bedroom window, where he was watching his two-year-old daugh ter, Khorry, sleep.

The two officers walked up to Johnson’s vehicle. He was worried they would tow it, so he woke up his

beloved little brother, Bam Bam.

“‘I was like, ‘Man, hey, go give these keys to Grandma Pat, [tell] her to act like she’s driving it so they don’t take my car,’” Johnson testified in court, according to tri al transcripts.

Bam Bam ran next door to their grandmother’s house, and John son watched from the window as his brother gave the keys to their grandmother, who dangled them in the air to show the cops she was going to drive the Explorer.

But almost immediately, she turned back toward the house and shouted at the police to come quickly. Bam Bam had collapsed on the floor.

When Johnson was six, his mother had given birth to Bam Bam. Although Johnson didn’t un derstand it at the time, Bam Bam was born addicted to crack and had a congenital heart defect.

“I fell in love with him the first day I held him in 1992,” Johnson explained in a message from pris on. “He had tubes in his nose and right then we connected because our mom had hurt us both. I felt a bond and an immediate desire to protect him.”

And so Johnson watched in hor ror after Bam Bam’s collapse. He saw the officers walk to the porch, and it looked to Johnson like they were stepping over something.

They gestured for everyone to leave the house.

McEntee arrived at the same time as an ambulance — and as Jada Tatum, the mother of both boys, rushed into the house. Johnson watched as McEntee booted her out, then “tussled” with her as the officer “pushed” her to stop her from going back in, according to Johnson’s account.

“It looked like they was fighting, and I started to get mad,” Johnson testified. “Then eventually my

mom just stopped. She went into the yard and started crying.”

Then Johnson watched para medics carry his little brother away on a stretcher. Looking back, he says he could tell Bam Bam was already dead. The boy’s foot dangled lifelessly. His tongue hung out of his mouth.

It all happened so quickly, and everyone left except for McEn tee and Officer Christopher Nel son. They walked next door to tell Johnson’s great-grandmother what hospital Bam Bam was being taken to. When they asked if John son was in the house, she said no.

But Johnson was right there, and McEntee spotted Johnson through the window. He tapped Nelson’s shoulder, and Nelson turned to look too. McEntee made eye con tact with Johnson and gave what he saw as a “subtle smirk.”

That perception the officer’s facial expression, the grieving teen ager reading it from the window — would change two lives forever.

An officer called “Big Mac”

He can’t explain why, but when St. Charles County Police Chief Kurt Frisz received a call that a Kirkwood sergeant had been shot in Meacham Park, he knew it was McEntee.

“I called another academy class mate and said, ‘I think it’s Mac,’”

6 from St. Louis

Since the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated the death penalty in 1976, 92 Missourians have been put to death. Thirty-five have been Black, 56 white and one Native American. They’ve come from across the state — from tiny Maries County (population 8,432) to Kansas City and St. Louis.

But no county has sent more people to the executioner than St. Louis County. Eighteen men sentenced through the county circuit since 1976 have been given the ultimate punishment. Another six people currently sit on death row.

In recent months, Attorney General Eric Schmitt moved for three of those six to get execution dates, and the Mis souri Supreme Court has complied. Barring a last-minute reprieve, the first, Kevin Johnson, is scheduled to die on Tuesday, November 29. He will be the first man from the St. Louis metro area to be executed in more than seven years.

Things have changed in the 15 years since Johnson was sentenced to die for killing a police officer. St. Louis has pub licly grappled with its history of racially charged policing — and the complicated legacy of places like Johnson’s hometown, Meacham Park, a historically Black enclave annexed by a predominantly white suburb when Johnson was a toddler.

The U.S. Supreme Court also now acknowledges that teens, like Johnson was at the time of his crime, have brains that aren’t fully developed, and deserve more

chances at rehabilitation than adults who commit similar crimes. Major advances in DNA technology have also shown that many on death row are innocent. Across the U.S., 190 have been fully exonerated.

Many people sentenced to death are guilty of heinous crimes. But Gallup polling shows steadily dropping support for capital punishment since the 1990s, and St. Louis seems to have undergone a similar shift. More than two decades after St. Louis city moved away from routinely seeking the death penalty in the most serious cases, the St. Louis County prosecuting attorney now has a similar reticence. Elected as a reformer, Wesley Bell has called the death penalty “ineffective, racially biased, hypocritical and inhumane.”

Yet electing Bell didn’t change the outcomes for 23 people, 15 Black, whom Bell’s predecessor, Bob McCulloch, put on death row. At the time he left office, 10 had already been executed, one had died of natural causes and another half-dozen had seen their sentences reversed by higher courts. That leaves six people McCulloch put on death row who still await their fate.

Beginning this week, thanks to the support of the River City Journalism Fund, we’ll look at some of their stories, the decisions made by McCulloch and the six locals now in the shadow of death.

—Sarah Fenske

Kirkwood Sgt. William McEntee, 43, served with the Kirkwood Police Department for 19 years. He was a husband and father of three. | COURTESY KIRKWOOD POLICE DEPARTMENT

Frisz says.

Frisz led the St. Louis County Tactical Operations Unit at the time. He and McEntee had attend ed the police academy together about 20 years prior.

Like most who knew McEntee, Frisz described him as a gentle giant with a personality almost as big as his physical size. The 19-year Kirkwood police veteran towered over most at 6-foot-5 and 250 pounds.

“He made it a pleasure to come to work,” says Tom Seymour, a Kirk wood officer from 2001 to 2004. “He was always available for any type of advice you would need.”

McEntee was 43 at the time of his death. His three children, a daughter and two boys, were 13, 10 and 7. His widow, Mary McEn tee, said the family declined to be interviewed for this story.

Neither Seymour nor Frisz re call McEntee having bad blood with residents. But there were tensions between police and peo ple in Meacham Park. The largely Black neighborhood had been an nexed by nearly all-white Kirk wood barely a decade before.

“Meacham Park was an area that required extra due diligence,” Seymour says. “From a police offi cer’s standpoint, you had to really keep your head on a swivel and stay on point.”

Some residents of Meacham Park say “Big Mac” had a reputa tion. Johnson himself claims that a year before their deadly inter action, McEntee grabbed one of his friends by the neck after that friend mocked McEntee. This led to a “fight” with the officer as Johnson’s friends piled on him. They ran away when McEntee got ahold of his gun.

There is no record of anyone complaining about such an inci dent. But Romona Miller, now a

retired Kirkwood High School assistant principal, said she com plained about McEntee around that time.

Miller was a science teacher at Kirkwood High in 2005 the first Black teacher to hold the position. A few students told her about an officer they called “Mac.” She heard McEntee had escalated a situation to the point that another officer had to cool things down.

“I had never heard the kids talk specifically about a person, so that was concerning to me,” Miller says.

Miller brought her concerns to the Kirkwood police but never heard back. A spokesman would later tell the St. Louis Beacon that the chief had no recollection of Miller reporting McEntee.

“I often wonder, if that had been taken more seriously, we could have avoided a lot of this,” Miller says.

“I didn’t realize I was shooting him” About 30 minutes after Bam Bam was taken away on a stretcher, his grandmother confirmed some ter rible news: He was dead. Johnson recalls kicking his bedroom door off its hinges; he then roamed Meacham Park “trying to get a grip on things” while screaming, “He killed my brother!”

“I felt so many emotions, but guilt over Bam Bam’s death con sumed me the most,” Johnson says. “Had I not bothered him with my foolishness, he’d still be alive.”

By then, word of Bam Bam’s death had spread across Meacham Park. Johnson fielded question af ter question. “What happened?”

“Cuz, is it true?” Johnson recalls trying to smile, wanting to put on a tough front.

Not even two hours had passed when Kirkwood police received a call about someone shooting off fireworks in Meacham Park, just

one block from where Bam Bam had collapsed. McEntee returned to the neighborhood around 7 30 p.m. to respond to the call. When he stopped to talk to three kids, he and Johnson locked eyes once again.

What happened next was a blur. The way Johnson recalls it, he turned from a conversation with a cousin to see McEntee in his patrol car.

Throughout his life, Johnson’s anger manifested in different ways. He mostly directed it at him self in his younger years. Why was he so unlovable? Why did his aun tie make him jump up and down for hours in a corner after he got in trouble? But as Johnson grew older, the anger started to spew outward. He’d get in fights. He’d yell at people who wronged him.

When he overheard his ex, Dana, say she didn’t care about him anymore, he raged, slapping her several times, earning a mis demeanor assault charge — the same one that led to the probation violation that had police looking for him that day.

What Johnson felt when he saw McEntee for the second time that day was different. McEntee turned his attention from the kids with fireworks as Johnson tried to slip past his patrol car. When they made eye contact, McEntee “again gave a subtle smirk.” That’s when Johnson pulled out his gun and started firing.

“At that time, I didn’t realize I was shooting him,” Johnson says. He didn’t see McEntee, he says — he saw “visions” while in a “trance-like state.” He saw again the sly smirk he believed McEntee had previously flashed through the window. He saw his brother’s limp body, and McEntee holding his mother back from attending to Bam Bam.

People nearby would later tell

Johnson he shouted “you killed my brother,” but Johnson has no memory of this. He reached into McEntee’s car and grabbed his gun. McEntee had enough wherewithal to speed away but quickly crashed into another car and then a tree.

Disoriented, Johnson started to run, heading toward Khorry’s mother’s house. Some testimony suggests that he told his mother that McEntee let his brother die, so he needed to see what it felt like to die. Then he stumbled into the crowd surrounding McEntee and his crashed vehicle.

McEntee was bleeding from several spots, mostly on his face. One of the five bullets Johnson had fired went through McEntee’s mouth and severed his tongue, so as McEntee tried to climb out of his car, he couldn’t talk. Someone opened his driver-side door, and he fell out of the car.

The crowd parted as Johnson approached McEntee struggling on the ground. As the sergeant crawled on all fours, Johnson fired another shot to the back of McEntee’s head.

Johnson could hear his heart thumping. From the crowd, he heard his little-league baseball coach say, “Kevin, Kevin.”

One of McEntee’s eyes was miss ing. Pieces of his skull and brain matter were exposed. A firefight er who worked with McEntee for 18 years would testify at trial that he couldn’t recognize the sergeant when he turned his body over.

An “irresistible gravitational pull” seemed to draw Johnson to McEntee’s body. He stumbled and landed on his hands and knees. One hand landed in a puddle of McEntee’s blood on the ground. “What have I done?” Johnson re members thinking.

Then he ran to his car and fled.

Kevin Johnson watched o cers from his great-grandmother’s house (le ) as his brother su ered a seizure in his grandmother’s house (right). | SARAH LOVETT

Joseph “Bam Bam” Long su ered a seizure and died on July 5, 2005, as police searched for his brother, Kevin Johnson. | COURTESY MISSOURIANS FOR ALTERNATIVES TO THE DEATH PENALTY

EXECUTIONER

Two dead cops

On December 1, 2021, more than six months before the state moved to execute Johnson, his legal team filed an application with St. Louis County Prosecuting Attorney Wes ley Bell to investigate allegations of pervasive racial discrimination on the part of his predecessor, Bob McCulloch.

McCulloch was handily reelect ed six times by majority-white St. Louis County, but after the death of Michael Brown at the hands of a Ferguson police officer, Black vot ers turned out to oust him. Never in his 27 years in public office did McCulloch prosecute an officerinvolved shooting to an actual in dictment. That includes Michael Brown’s killer, Darren Wilson.

McCulloch’s own father, a St. Louis city officer, was killed in the line of duty in 1964, but he in sists the tragedy never affected his work.

“It’s kind of irrelevant,” McCull och says. “In 1964, I was 12 years old. It wasn’t a police officer who was killed in the line of duty. It was my father not coming home.”

In 2018, his last year in office, McCulloch delivered a speech at a conference that was so seemingly offensive that an entire county’s worth of Oregon prosecutors walked out. McCulloch reportedly mocked the American Civil Liber ties Union and took jabs at Black Lives Matter.

A professor at the University of North Carolina researched Mc Culloch’s track record at the be hest of Johnson’s legal team. Frank Baumgartner’s report, released this September, examined about 400 McCulloch-era homicides that would have been eligible for the death penalty in St. Louis County. All told, as prosecuting attorney, McCulloch won death penalty convictions against 23 men, 15 of them Black.

Baumgartner’s report found McCulloch’s office was more like ly to charge first-degree murder, seek the death penalty and obtain a death sentence in cases involv ing white victims than minority victims. He found homicides with Black victims had a 4 percent chance of leading to a death sen tence. Ones with white victims had a 14.1 percent chance.

In Johnson’s case, his lawyers claimed McCulloch wrongly used a peremptory strike to eliminate a Black juror. The woman had worked as a foster parent with Annie Malone Children’s Foster

Home, where Johnson once stayed as a child.

In a later dissent, former Supreme Court Chief Justice Richard Teitel man said Johnson’s case should have been sent back for a new trial. The Black juror shared similarities with white jurors who had substan tial contacts with the division of family services, he wrote, yet they were allowed to stay on.

Testimony from behind the scenes at Johnson’s first trial sug gests what he was up against. The trial ended with a hung jury divided 10-2, with the majority favoring a lesser, second-degree murder conviction.

According to a filing by Johnson’s lawyers, the two holdout jurors voiced “racially biased opinions during deliberations.” Two white jurors kept “loudly repeating they couldn’t vote for second degree be cause Kevin would get out and hunt them down,” another juror recalled in an affidavit. One white juror “kept yelling things about ‘your neighborhoods,’ and ‘you people,’ when talking to Black jurors.”

Johnson’s supporters also note that McCulloch sought the death penalty against all four Black de fendants his office prosecuted for killing a police officer.

But prosecutors did not seek the death penalty for Trenton Forster, the white 18-year-old who killed Officer Blake Snyder in 2016. He re ceived life in prison without parole even though prosecutors argued Forster had, in a way, planned to murder a cop. They pointed to so cial media posts and text messages in which Forster said he wanted to kill, “fuck the police” and “I want to take them out.”

McCulloch says a huge differ ence between Johnson and For ster’s cases was that Forster had “severe mental issues.” That’s even though Johnson had been treated for depression and ADHD in early childhood and was later diagnosed with multiple psychiatric disor ders.

Johnson, who by all accounts acted impetuously, received a harsher sentence. And that’s even though Johnson, like Forster, was still a teenager at the time of his crime.

Johnson’s age is important to consider when discussing his case, says Megan Crane, co-direc tor of the MacArthur Justice Cen ter. The U.S. Supreme Court large ly didn’t embrace the psychology of youth until a landmark case in 2012. Miller v. Alabama holds that mandatory sentences of life with out the possibility of parole are unconstitutional for juveniles.

While Johnson was not legally a

juvenile at the time of his crime, the court embraced in Miller v. Alabama what science makes crystal clear and what most par ents already know — that kids are not like adults; their brains do not fully develop until age 25, or pos sibly even later.

Johnson’s offense has a lot of the hallmarks of a typical youth crime, according to Crane.

“It was extremely emotionally driven for him,” Crane says. “He just watched his brother die while police stood by and possibly pre vented his family from interven ing. He’s acting on emotion, he’s acting on impulse and anger, and doesn’t have the cognitive skills to pump the brakes on that.”

“Among the most extreme cases”

News that a cop had been killed and the shooter was on the loose spread quickly. While he was on the run, Johnson saw McEntee’s face everywhere on TV. Report ers said McEntee was a father of three, which caused Johnson to let out “a deep sigh of shame.”

While Johnson has never apolo gized personally to the McEntee family, he says in an email from prison that’s because he hasn’t had the chance. He says he thinks a lot about what he’d say to them.

“I would like to look them in their eyes and assure them that this was not a planned killing,” he wrote. “To live with the fact that I took another man from his kids eats at my soul daily!”

After three days on the run, Johnson turned himself in. People who knew him were stunned to learn he’d taken a life.

“I was very, very surprised,” Miller, the former Kirkwood High administrator, says. She knew Johnson as a quiet and respect ful student, and so did most of his

educators.

“I just could not believe it,” says Melissa Fuoss, who taught John son English in high school. He wrote a poem in her class about giving his baby daughter a bath, which she always remembered.

“It seemed completely impos sible Kevin would do that,” Fuoss says.

What memories Johnson has from early childhood are not good ones. He wrote in a book he au thored in prison that around age three or four, his mother left him and his older brother alone for hours or days at a time “likely to sell her body for crack cocaine.” When they got hungry, they’d try to catch and eat the roaches that roamed the “rundown garage” they lived in. His father was in carcerated for most of Johnson’s adolescence.

Around the time Johnson was four, the state sent him and his siblings to live with different fam ily members. He lived with “Aunt Edith,” who at first seemed like the mother figure he’d yearned for. But his aunt was mercurial, and over time became abusive, according to a later assessment of Johnson. A 2016 psychological evaluation noted how Johnson was whipped, beaten and maced by various caregivers and direct ed by uncles and cousins to join in sex acts as a prepubescent child.

Johnson’s repeated exposure to violent abuse and neglect “is among the most extreme cases that this psychiatrist has ever seen in his 40 years of practice and 30 plus years of performing psychiat ric evaluations in connection with capital litigation,” forensic psychi atrist Richard Dudley wrote.

In times of high stress, an en tity Johnson says lived in his head would take control of his body. Kris

Khorry Ramey (le ) and Kevin Johnson (center) maintain a close relationship with Johnson’s elementary school principal Pamela Stanfield (right). | COURTESY PAMELA STANFIELD

was tough, aggressive and angry. Johnson liked Kris at first; he kept him company when he was lonely. When Johnson tried to commit sui cide at a group home as a teenager, he says it was Kris who forced him not to, even as another voice, Kyle, encouraged him to.

Johnson was on the wrong path. He got into fights. He was repeat edly kicked out of group homes as a teen after his aunt forced him out of the house for violating her rules. Only in prison did he get his GED.

In the day before Bam Bam died, Johnson dealt with suicidal thoughts. His daughter’s birthday had been two days before, and he later told Dudley he felt unable to do everything he wanted to do for her. It felt like his life was falling apart.

Johnson suffers from a long list of psychiatric disorders, accord ing to Dr. Dan Martell, who as sessed him, including attention deficit and intermittent explosive disorder, which causes impulsive and aggressive acts.

In addition, Martell says John son has a frontal lobe impairment and appears to have been ex posed to drugs as an infant, issues that Martell says almost certainly came into play when Johnson killed McEntee.

“The combination of Mr. John son’s psychiatric disorder, ADHD, frontal lobe impairment and IED greatly contributed to his behavior of explosive impulsive aggression, including his behavior during the instant offense … his moral com pass was effectively ‘offline’ at the time of the instant offense,” Mar tell says.

Rachel Jenness never saw John son’s aggression. She taught him

in kindergarten and first grade, and to this day describes him as one of her two favorite students — “[Johnson] was smart, smart, smart.” He read fluently, had neat handwriting and came to school sharply dressed.

“He never had bruises or marks, but he would occasionally smell of urine,” Jenness says. She theo rizes that Johnson’s aunt forced him to go to school in his urinesoaked clothes as punishment for wetting the bed.

Johnson’s aunt told Jenness she could spank the boy (she refused). Johnson later wrote of his em barrassment with how his aunt would come to school to spank him but didn’t show up for bringyour-parent-to-class events.

“I definitely thought about adopting him,” Jenness says.

Still, Johnson’s aunt appeared to care about his education and showed up when she was called.

“I remember his grandmother being at school often, so it wasn’t like ‘Oh my gosh, this child is so deprived,’” says Pamela Stanfield, Johnson’s elementary school prin cipal at Westchester Elementary.

“At that time, we didn’t know. Looking back, I think if we had intervened sooner, maybe this would have never happened.”

“I have to hold up my head and face it”

At her grandmother’s home in Meacham Park, Khorry Ramey soothes her newborn baby Kiaus as he rocks back and forth in an electric rocker. He fusses softly when his mother isn’t talking. He’s incredibly small and delicate, born just days after what would have been his great-uncle Bam-

Bam’s 30th birthday. This is Kevin Johnson’s grandson.

Ramey smiles when she ex plains her baby’s name. “It means ‘rejoice.’”

It’s an odd ray of light in an oth erwise tragic situation. Her father murdered McEntee barely a block away from the house where she is now. It’s the same house she lived in for most of her life.

Johnson was incarcerated since she was two, and when Ramey was four, her mother died in front of her. An ex-boyfriend shot Dana Ramey in the head as they walked home from Walmart. Johnson and Dana were both teens when their daughter came into their lives. Johnson always calls Khorry Ra mey “his sanity.”

When Dana died, Johnson want ed to know everything about her murder. He imagines this is what the McEntee family wants too.

“I think a lot about what I’d say to them,” Johnson says. “I put my self in their shoes. What can you say? What would I want to hear from the person who took my loved one away? I can say ‘I am sorry.’ I am sorry, but what is that gonna do for them? I would want to make them feel better.”

When Ramey talks of her father and mother, she speaks only of love and acceptance.

“Even though he’s been incar cerated my whole life, it’s almost like he’s still been there,” Ramey says of Johnson. He bugs her about bad grades and listens to her boy problems. When she told Johnson she wanted to be a nurse, he had friends in the medical field reach out.

Johnson’s supporters are seeking a legal reprieve; not to release him

from prison but to spare him from death. If he receives clemency, Johnson says he wants to do what ever he can for Ramey. He wants to be there for his new grandson. He wants to “motivate other in mates to turn their lives around.” He’s held multiple leadership roles while in prison.

One man is not convinced: the prosecutor who put him there, McCulloch. “So he does wonderful things — and good for him — while he’s in prison,” McCulloch says. “It doesn’t alter the fact that what he did merited a death sentence. When it’s time for the punishment, it’s time for the punishment.”

The odds of clemency are against Johnson, and he is trying to face the alternative. “If I die, then I have to hold my head up and face it,” he says.

When the Missouri Supreme Court set his November 29 execu tion date on August 24, he count ed. Ninety-seven days.

In his early days of incarcera tion, Johnson admits he would have rather died than spend the rest of his life in prison. Many family members have lived to their 80s, and the decades seemed to stretch before him overwhelm ingly. He lived without love in those days, he admits. Now he wants to live for his daughter.

It’s torturous to know his life has an expiration date. Family and friends talk to him all the time — he’s almost like their therapist, he says. He passes the days writing, watching TV, talking to family and friends, reading the Bible — what ever he can do to take his mind off things.

Mostly, he daydreams. He trav els back in his mind to 1999. That wasn’t a particularly good year for him, he says, but for some rea son that’s where he goes. He was 14, and that’s around when he en tered his first group home.

It’s almost obsessive, how he plays back different moments with the same recurring charac ters while he roams Potosi Cor rectional Center’s prison grounds, music on his headphones.

One of his sisters told him this was “maladaptive daydreaming,” but he can’t seem to stop. He likes to relay different events in his mind.

Only in this version, he does ev erything right. n

Riverfront Times' Ryan Krull con tributed to this report. For more on the River City Journalism Fund, which provided funding for this project and seeks to support local journalism in St. Louis, please see rcjf.org.

Khorry Ramey, 19, is now the same age as her father when he killed Sgt. William McEntee. | COURTESY RACHEL BEE (le ) / SARAH LOVETT (right)

CALENDAR

BY RIVERFRONT TIMES STAFF

THURSDAY 11/3

Filmapalooza

The 31st Annual Whitaker St. Louis International Film Festi val is back, and St. Louis film fans couldn’t be more excited. Rabid movie buffs count down to this festival every year, and they’ll have plenty to sink their teeth into at SLIFF 2022. This year, the acclaimed festival is offering more than 256 films that you can catch between now and Sunday, November 13. The selection rep resents releases from 42 different countries and includes more than 100 documentary and narrative features. A VIP pass to see each film will run you 350 (which works out to only 1.36 per film), but there are plenty of cheaper options, so fans with lighter bank accounts can enjoy, too. Individu al tickets for most films cost 15, and 29 film programs are being offered to audiences for free. All virtual programming is being of fered at just $5 per program, too. Visit cinemastlouis.org/sliff/festi val-home for more information.

Voyage of the Damned

Upstream Theater’s show The Good Ship St. Louis is named after the MS St. Louis, a ship that left Germany in 1939 with Jew ish passengers who hoped to es cape Nazi persecution. The trip became known as the “Voyage of the Damned” as port after port in North America refused to let the passengers disembark. The ship was ultimately turned back to Eu rope, where many of the passen gers died in the Holocaust. Up stream Theater’s artistic director, Philip Boehm, says that The Good Ship St. Louis takes that story as a springboard for “a broader ex ploration of refuge and asylum.” Including both original and peri od music, Upstream’s production opens in 1939 but moves forward in time to tell stories of people from Central America, Bosnia and Ukraine who have sought ref uge away from their homelands. Catch the show at 8 p.m. at the Marcelle (3310 Samuel Shepard

Drive, 314-533-0367). Tickets are $25 to $35.

FRIDAY 11/4

Art Time of the Month

If you want proof that Grand Cen ter has solidified itself as a bona fide, multifaceted arts district over the past few years, head down to the area on Friday between 5 and 9 p.m. That’s when the dis trict hosts First Fridays in Grand Center, a monthly celebration of the vibrant visual arts scene that has made the area the undisputed culture epicenter of the St. Louis region. Museum admission is free at such outstanding institutions as the Contemporary Art Museum, the Sheldon and the International Photography Hall of Fame, where organizers promise cocktails, conversation and entertainment. Stick around for the afterparty at Sophie’s Artist Lounge to make a night of it. For more information, visit grandcenter.org firstfridays.

Photography Greats

The International Photography Hall of Fame and Museum will honor its 2022 class of induct ees at the Hall of Fame Induc tion and Awards Ceremony at the . ACK building (3224 Locust Street). This year’s class includes Edward Burtynsky, Chester Hig gins, Graciela Iturbide, Helen Lev itt, Danny Lyon and Sarah Moon, all of whom (except for the late Levitt) will be at the induction cer emony. Each awardee is a photog rapher or photography industry visionary notable for their “artist ry, innovation and significant con tributions to the art and science of photography.” The ceremony be gins at 6 p.m. and costs $500. For those less inclined to spend a few C-notes on an afternoon, the ex hibition of their works opens on Saturday, November 5, and will be on display until Saturday, Febru ary 11. Admission to the museum costs $5 to $10. More information at iphf.org/2022_induction.

SATURDAY 11/5

Nothing Better

Schlafly Beer’s Full Moon Festival returns fully equipped with live music, pig roasting and lots of beer from the St. Louis-based brewery. Warm up around the “bundle of bonfires” that the event promises to have on hand, while you listen to local music from artists such as Hillary Fitz and Dogtown Record Allstars. Perhaps most notably, the festival will hold its fourth annual chili cook-off among chefs from acclaimed St. Louis restaurants.

See chefs from Sureste, Cathy’s Kitchen, Sando Shack, Hello Poke, Sugarfire Smokehouse and root berry duking it out with their best recipes. The fest kicks off at 3 p.m. at Schlafly Bottleworks (7260 Southwest Avenue, Maplewood; 314-241-2337). Admission is free.

Art in the Dark

St. Louis’ favorite forest of big red tubes and other large-scale art gets even sexier than usual this

Graciela Iturbide is one of the photographers to be inducted into the Photography Hall of Fame this weekend. | COURTESY PHOTO

weekend, courtesy of Laumeier After Dark. The sculpture park, which normally closes 30 minutes after sunset, will stay open until 10 p.m. this Saturday, bringing an array of temporary installations by St. Louis artists, a night market of goods from local vendors and a selection of food and beverage of ferings to satiate your varied ap petites. The event will also feature live music performances from the likes of We Are Root Mod, the Ma ness Brothers and Sean Canan’s Voodoo Mixtape, ensuring some thing for everyone. Admission to the special lights-out affair is $5 for adults and free for children under 10. For more information, visit laumeiersculpturepark.org/ after-dark.

Book It!

Book lovers can join the weeklong St. Louis Jewish Book Festival, which will include readings and talks from popular Jewish au thors. Speakers include U.S. Am bassador to the Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch on her book Lessons from the Edge about her time as an ambassador, President Donald Trump’s campaign against her and her participation in his impeach ment trials. There will also be a cookbook panel, a sports night and a romance panel. But things

kick off on Saturday, November 5, with Phil Rosenthal, who hosts the Netflix series Somebody Feed Phil, talking about his book Somebody eed hil the oo he Offi cial Companion Book with Photos, Stories, and Favorite Recipes from Around the World. Rosenthal’s talk starts at 7:30 p.m. The festival will largely be held at the J’s Staenberg Family Complex (2 Millstone Cam pus Drive, Chesterfield; 314-4325700, jccstl.com). Check the web site for details. An all-access pass is $118, and individual book talks are $20 to $70.

Art Outside

Is there a more natural pairing than art and wide swaths of natu ral land? Don’t answer that, just check out the Shaw Nature Re serve’s (307 Pinetum Loop Road, 314-577-9555) Annual Art Show on Saturday, November 5, and Sunday, November 6, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The show will fea ture the work of 20 St. Louis-area artists in an array of mediums, including glass, ceramic, wood and metal sculpture, painting, folk art, paper, photography, jew elry, basketry, fibers and more. Food will be available for pur chase, from the Swallows Nest, Graze Catering and the Gathering Café. Admission is $5 for member

vehicles and $10 for nonmember vehicles.

MONDAY 11/7

Everyday Joy

Though Ross Gay is perhaps most celebrated for his poetry, the award-winning author’s lat est book is a collection of essays. Titled Inciting Joy: Essays, the book examines the joy that comes from caring for others, especially in times of difficulty. A reviewer at Kirkus called it “a pleasingly digressive and intimate memoir in essays” and notes the book’s focus on varied topics that in clude basketball, therapy, mascu linity and more. Gay will bring that book and his presence to St. Louis during a St. Louis County Library Foundation event with the author at the Ethical Society of St. Louis (9001 Clayton Road). Presented in partnership with the St. Louis Poetry Center, the event begins at 7 p.m., and admission is free.

WEDNESDAY 11/9

Dinner Theater

St. Charles — St. Louis’ least fa vorite cousin — often gets a bad rap. Its river views are scenic but its people conservative. Its downtown is quaint but pales to St. Louis city nightlife. But next Wednesday, something inter esting will finally happen in St. Charles … murder! Well, not ex

actly. Tompkins Riverside (500 South Main Street, 636-493-6332, tompkinsriverside.com) will host a Murder Mystery Dinner at the restaurant’s location on St. Charles’ historic Main Street. The restaurant is partnering with Jest Murder Mystery Co. to bring Tompkins’ first interactive mystery-dining event. Guests will eat a three-course dinner as professional entertainers drama tize acts. Old Dominick Distillery will serve its spirits in addition to signature cocktails and cash bar. Teams who solve the mystery the fastest will receive a prize. Ticket costs range from $72 to $80, and the event begins at 5 p.m.

Art Film

Come see a beautiful film in a beautiful location. At 7:30 p.m., the Contemporary Art Museum (3750 Washington Avenue, 314535-4660, camstl.org) will be screening the animated film On the Bridge. Directed by Swiss duo Sam and Fred Guillaume, On the Bridge combines elements of fic tion and documentary. The film makers recorded the responses of real people when given ran dom conversation prompts, then incorporated that dialogue into a surreal situation in which travel ers board “a mysterious train that takes them onto a bridge suspend ed between the land and the sky.” The film’s run time is 42 minutes. The screening is free. n

Have an event you’d like consid ered for our calendar? Email cal endar@riverfronttimes.com.

Ross Gay will be in town Monday, November 7, to promote his book of essays. | COURTESY PHOTO

Schlafly’s Full Moon Festival returns this Saturday with a chili cooko . | CAITI CARROW

From the Heart

Clara B’s Kitchen Table is a stunning homage to scratch cooking and a Texas grandmother’s love

Written by CHERYL BAEHR

Clara B’s Kitchen Table

106 East Main Street, Belleville, Illinois; 618-416-1812. Wed.-Fri. 9 a.m.-2 p.m.; Sat.-Sun. 8 a.m.-2 p.m. (Closed Sundays and Mondays.)

Jodie Ferguson was only six years old when she lost her grandmother, Clara Blood worth, but their brief rela tionship was enough to have a lasting impact on her. A farmer’s wife from Louisiana, Bloodworth moved to rural Pennsylvania af ter she got married and spent her days cooking for the farm hands and day laborers who would help her family work their land. Even after she got older and joined her daughter’s family in Texas, Bloodworth could not help herself from taking over the kitchen, and when she did, little Ferguson was either on her hip or set up on the counter watching her grandma prepare okra and make what she referred to as doughnuts but were beignets. Bloodworth’s cooking was such a major part of her life that when she passed away, the first question Ferguson asked was who was going to cook for her. Those formative culinary ex periences are what inform Clara B’s Kitchen Table, Ferguson’s brick-and-mortar that opened in the charming business district of downtown Belleville, Illinois, this past February. However, anyone who has tasted Ferguson’s out standing biscuits will remember her from her food truck of the same name, which she launched in October of 2020. It was a con cept born of necessity; after being furloughed from her culinary job with the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Clay ton, Ferguson was forced to fig ure out a way to support herself. She’d always dreamed of having a small, 10- or 20-seat daytime spot when she retired — something

nowhere close to being on the ho rizon — but when she learned her job was being permanently elimi nated, she decided to move up that timeline and launch her idea as a food truck as proof of concept for an eventual brick-and-mortar.

Though it’s hard to imagine a time when Clara B’s success was in question, Ferguson describes the beginning days of the truck as soul-crushingly hard. For the first three months, she barely made any money and would regularly cry when she pulled the truck back into its parking spot and counted her take-home for the day. Over time, though, she be gan to get some buzz in the local food scene and became one of the must-visit trucks out and about the area and at the 9 Mile Garden food-truck park. She became so popular that she outgrew her com missary space and figured that if she needed to get a new kitchen, she might as well see if she could find one with a small restaurant space attached. The downtown Belleville storefront, not far from where she and her husband live, made perfect sense.

At least at first. Already, the Clara B’s storefront has become so pop

ular that Ferguson has yet again outgrown her digs. When you un derstand the layout of the kitchen space, you understand why. With only two convection ovens, two induction burners and a small griddle she bought at Walmart, Ferguson and her team put out a full, scratch-cooked menu, prep for the truck and handle catering events, which will make you think that she’s not simply a great cook; she’s a miracle worker that is un intentionally paying homage to her grandma who prepared food for an army of workers out of a

small farmhouse kitchen.

It’s not only the small kitchen setup that evokes Grandma Clara. Ferguson’s food has that sort of warm-your-soul feeling that trans ports you back in time to a vintage, scratch kitchen, and no offering better captures this than her bis cuits. Square shaped and baked until they take on a subtle golden hue, the biscuits have a flaky ex terior that yields to a fluffy, cloudlike middle. It’s the kind of break fast bread where you feel as if you can taste Ferguson cutting in the butter — a decadent masterpiece of the form that you would be satis fied enjoying on its own, but it also serves as a magnificent base for her outstanding biscuit sandwich. Piled high with peppery-flecked lo cal bacon, egg, cheese and an apri cot, red onion jam that is both rich and bright, it’s the quintessential breakfast sandwich, even if it’s so large you are better served eating it with a knife and fork.

Ferguson’s excellent biscuits serve as the canvas for another impressive sandwich: the spicy honey chicken. Though the bread itself is a stunning display, the chicken gets equal billing; plump,

Some Clara B’s Kitchen Table favorites include the breakfast sandwich, French toast, quiche, autumn cobb salad, and biscuits and gravy. | MABEL SUEN

Ferguson’s food has that sort of warm-yoursoul feeling that transports you back in time to a vintage, scratch kitchen.

CLARA

juicy and coated in a delicate, per fectly seasoned crust, the meat is drizzled with local honey that provides a sweet reprieve from Ferguson’s fiery hot sauce. Unlike a typical Louisiana pepper sauce, this concoction has vinegar and searing pepper heat but also a deep funk that evokes doenjang, a Korean fermented soybean paste. The flavor is so complex that even though the sauce burns up front, you keep coming back for more.

You could eat nothing but bis cuits and call Clara B’s a success, but those flaky wonders are not the only tricks Ferguson has up her sleeve. Born and raised outside of Austin, Ferguson is serious about her brisket, which she serves in a taco that’s garnished with seasoned potatoes, pickled red onion, cotija cheese and just enough of a bour bon barbecue glaze to coat the com ponents together in smoky sweet ness without covering up the taste of the delectable meat. That same oak-and-mesquite smoked brisket also appears in her chili alongside veal and ground chuck; habanero peppers infuse the rich concoction, cutting through the meat’s deca dence just enough but not over whelming with their heat. It’s the sort of hearty Texas chili that makes you understand why it’s considered the pinnacle of the form.

Ferguson does West Texas proud yet again with her loaded breakfast burrito. Overstuffed with warmspiced chorizo, fluffy scrambled eggs, seasoned potatoes and what seems like an entire smashed avo cado, this is the sort of thing you long for if you’ve lived anywhere near the U.S. Southwest and find

yourself regularly saddened by what’s passed off as a breakfast burrito. Ferguson says the key to the dish is her ranchero sauce, a charred, tomato-based condiment she describes as a Mexican mari nara that fills every bite with sa vory warmth. This, mingled with the chorizo drippings and cooled by guacamole-like avocado mash, produces one of the best bites you will put in your mouth in the bistate area.

I say “one of” the best bites be cause another contender is Fergu son’s French toast, a name about

as revealing as calling Michelan gelo’s David a rock carving. This massive slab — think ridiculously thick six-by-six cake pan — is a beautiful marriage between cara mel bread pudding and cinnamon crumb coffee cake that is topped with a generous scoop of fresh whipped cream that melts into ev ery crevice. The secret is that Fer guson uses her biscuits to make the concoction, a move so brilliant you wonder if there is any other way to prepare French toast.

When you bite into that dish — or the burrito or that hot chicken

biscuit — you do not simply taste delicious food; you feel some thing. Whether that’s Ferguson’s undeniable talent, her ability to evoke an old-fashioned way of eating or, most notably, her love for her grandmother, it doesn’t matter. You taste something real and from the heart, which is the most delicious and soul-filling fla vor she could hope to produce.

Clara

biscuits

impossibly

on the outside and

y on the inside. | MABEL SUEN Clara B’s Kitchen Table’s French toast is made from the restaurant’s biscuits. | MABEL SUEN

Chef-owner Jodie Ferguson named her restaurant for her grandmother. | MABEL SUEN

SHORT ORDERS

Bar Wars

St. Louis bartender Meredith Barry represents St. Louis on new Netflix show

Written by CHERYL BAEHR

One of St. Louis’ most respect ed bartenders is getting a na tional platform to show off her skills. Meredith Barry, co-owner of Platypus (4501 Manchester Avenue, 314-448-1622), is competing on the new Netflix show Drink Masters, which pre miered Friday, October 28.

Produced by the Canadian com pany behind the network’s hit se ries Blown Away, Drink Masters follows 12 mixologists from across North America as they compete for a $100,000 prize and the title of “Ultimate Drink Master.” Simi lar to such cooking competition shows as Top Chef or Chopped, contestants on Drink Masters demonstrate their cocktail prow ess through timed challenges, with one person being eliminated each episode.

“The level of stress is super heightened, so it’s a matter not just of your skills but of how you can take the stress test and if you have the endurance,” Barry says. “Cameras are in your face. You have no idea what you are doing, but I get it; it’s a lot on the line, and it’s high stakes — $100,000 is not going to come easy. You might be surrounded by some of the best talent, but you cannot control the elements. As good as you are, any thing can happen.”

For Barry, a veteran bartender who has worked in the industry for roughly 20 years, the idea of being chosen as part of such an elite group is humbling. As she explains, she wasn’t even going to audition, thinking there was no way she’d make it through, and only submitted an initial ap plication at a friend’s urging. The reason for her hesitancy, she says, comes down to feelings of doubt, a fear of talking in front of people and general imposter syndrome

issues that seem shocking to out side observers who see her as a master of her craft. However, the fears she had about doing the show were ultimately what pro pelled her to go for it.

“I’ve gone so far, but I still have this underlying self doubt that is ingrained in me,” Barry admits. “I’m continually working on it because it’s real, and I still feel that way, even after 20 years in the industry. But my biggest les son learned from this show is that fear and anxiety can take away your joy, and remembering your joy is the most important thing for anyone. If you love what you do, even if you are doing the scariest thing, remember your joy. If you forget that, it will be your biggest downfall.”

Overcoming her fears was only

one hurdle Barry had to face to get on the show. She describes a rigorous process that began with an application and cocktail chal lenge submission, complete with pictures and recipes. Once she made it through that round, there were additional challenges, each coming faster and more difficult than the last, followed by audi tions and background checks. By the time she got the news that she was in, she’d been through nearly a six-month process.

Still, it was nothing compared to being on the show.

“You walk in, and immediately they tell us we are going to do our first challenge,” Barry says. “It’s that fast-paced. They want incred ible technique done in a short amount of time, so you have to be more than just an expert.”

Despite the high-pressure con ditions, Barry says that viewers should expect to be dazzled by the creations — not a surprise consid ering the level of talent on display in the competition. She describes being surrounded by people who are not only incredible bartend ers; they have set the standard for the industry and are responsible for the way we drink today. This extends to the judges, including one of Barry’s professional hero ines, Julie Reiner, an acclaimed mixologist and bar owner who is one of the industry’s most influen tial players.

Barry’s supporters can watch her put up her wares in front of Reiner on Netflix or show their support in person at Platypus, the Grove neighborhood bar she owns with fellow bartender Tony Saputo. However people choose to cheer her on, though, Barry is just excited to be standing alongside a group of bartenders who have an undeniable passion for what they do.

“You’re going to see stunning displays of cocktails and just pure artistry,” Barry promises. “It’s go ing to be absolutely beautiful, but you are also going to see the hos pitality of all of us and the connec tion we made. The lesson I took away — besides not losing your joy — is how caring we all are of each other in this industry, how much hospitality means to us, and how personal these cocktails are to us. What we do is culinary, and this is the first competition of its kind for bartenders. You usually see chefs and pastry chefs. We are chefs, too.” n

NEWS]

Flying the Coop

Chicken Scratch expands to Glendale a er City Foundry success

Written by CHERYL BAEHR

hen Nate and Christine Hereford were sketching out their ideas for what would become Chick en Scratch (3700 Forest Park Avenue, chxscratchstl.com), they envisioned a

small, standalone restaurant, ideally with a drive-thru, where guests could grab a rotisserie bird and some sides to take home for dinner. Now, after a successful, yearlong run inside the Food Hall at City Foundry, those plans are coming to frui tion with the announcement of their sec ond location at 9900 Manchester Road in Glendale. The new restaurant is slated to open this month and, according to Nate Hereford, will build upon their brand with new specials, menu items and a more ro bust catering program.

“Our original vision was actually to have something like what we are going into in Glendale,” Hereford explains. “We were always looking for somewhere like this, but then COVID happened, and it caused everyone to reassess life. The

opportunity with City Foundry happened, and it was too good to turn down. We basically did a reverse process and started with a satellite location inside a food hall, but once we got in there, it became a testing ground and a catalyst for us to see how we could grow more.”

The forthcoming Chicken Scratch will be located near the intersection of Manchester and North Berry roads in the storefront that formerly housed the first iteration of Pi Pizzeria + Rico Mexican (Pi Rico opened its original location in the space in October of 2020, then moved to a now-shuttered spot in Kirkwood 10 months later). Comprised of an order counter, small seating area and drive-thru, the new digs will allow the Herefords

Meredith Barry represents St. Louis on the new Netflix show Drink Masters. | RYAN GINES

Slow Burn

Vin De Set fire was caused by slowburning cigarettes, video shows

Written by CHERYL BAEHR

Recently recovered security camera footage has revealed astonishing insight into the cause of the fire that destroyed Vin De Set on September 19.

According to owner Paul Hamilton, video footage from the restaurant’s DVR shows three patrons disposing of cigarettes into a hanging flower basket, starting the fire at approximately 2:30 p.m. on September 18. The basket soon began to smolder, eventually escalating into an all-out blaze that engulfed the restaurant in the early morning hours of the following day, roughly 13 hours later.

The longstanding French restaurant — a brunch favorite for its sizable, secondstory rooftop patio and views of the city — has been closed ever since.

Hamilton says he was finally able to put the pieces together in the last few days after a monthslong recovery effort by the video recorder’s manufacturer.

“The video recorder was damaged in the fire because of the water, so we sent if off to the manufacturer to retrieve it, but they were really slow-going,” Hamilton explains. “They could only give it to

CHICKEN SCRATCH

to realize their vision for offering a highquality, fast-casual option to those on the go — something he sees as being in high demand in the current dining landscape.

“We are in an age where people order food online,” Nate says. “I’ve been talking to other restaurant owners and operators, and they all say that most of their busi ness is through order ahead and pick up. This allows people to pick up their food and go on with their days, but it still gives them an option that isn’t just going to the grocery store because that’s easy. There is a time and a place for everything, and everyone is so busy that you go toward what is fast and easy and accessible, but people are willing to pay more for good food that has a little more effort in it.”

Nate is excited for the opportunities to expand on his success at the new space. Though the rotisserie chicken, chicken sandwich and Scratch sides that have become synonymous with the brand will all carry over to the Glendale location, he and his team will be able to offer addition al sandwiches, specials and even snacks

us a couple of hours at a time. At first, they gave us from where the fire burned the camera to roughly 3 or 2:30 a.m. when it totally engulfs the whole place. Obviously, there was something going on before that.”

After viewing that initial video, Hamilton tells the Riverfront Times that he went back to the DVR manufacturer to see if they could access earlier information. Through a series of footage, recovered in roughly two-hour increments and working backward from the time water destroyed the camera to the initial spark, the picture of what happened began to reveal itself:

• At 3 a.m., fire breaks through the back deck, engulfing the area in flames.

• Between 12:30 and 3 a.m., a glow can be observed underneath the deck.

• Between 5 p.m. and midnight, smoke can be seen wafting from underneath the deck. Once the sun goes down, footage shows a growing glow underneath the deck.

• Between roughly 2:30 p.m. and 5 p.m., smoke can be seen wafting from hanging flower baskets on the deck.

• At 2:30 p.m., three brunch patrons are seen smoking on the back patio — and disposing of their cigarettes in the hanging flower baskets.

“You can see them walking out on the deck after brunch,” Hamilton says. “They light up and are all standing around this hanging flower pot over by the railing on the side that faces the parking lot. They get done, put them out in that basket and, about 20 minutes later, the basket starts smoking.”

Hamilton admits he was surprised to see how slowly the fire smoldered before

exploding into the catastrophic blaze. As he explains, prior to viewing the video, he assumed that the fire was caused by either an electrical issue or someone shooting a firework into the building; it just seemed odd to him that there could be any other explanation because of how the fire started underneath the deck.

However, upon detailed examination of the video, you can see that the coconut-fiber-lined flower pots appear to be the source; the theory is that smoldering debris (likely the coconut fibers) melted the rubber roof, then got underneath

the deck’s parapet, or low protective wall, into a six-inch space that eventually caught fire.

“Literally, from the time we have video until when the actual flames broke through was 12 hours,” Hamilton says.

Though Hamilton, his wife, Wendy, and his team have gone through a wide gamut of emotions since the fire destroyed such an important part of their lives, he says that the first emotion he had when seeing the video was relief.

“I was relieved it wasn’t purposeful,” Hamilton says. “At first, I’d thought that maybe someone had done something malicious. The fact that it was basically someone’s stupidity doesn’t make it any better or change what we had to deal with, but at least it wasn’t malicious. It’s not like they said, ‘Let’s put our cigarettes out in this flower pot and burn the place down.’ Still, it’s unbelievable that such a small thing — the action of a couple of people — could do this.”

While he is relieved that he has answers, Hamilton is not dwelling on the actions of the people in the footage and is instead focused on rebuilding. He is thankful that he has insurance and is pleased with how the company has handled everything so far.

and appetizers. He and Christine are also working on getting their liquor license and are grateful for the Pi Rico folks for laying the foundation for to-go cocktails at the storefront. They also see the new location as allowing them to expand their catering and larger format “party pack” offerings

and are looking forward to welcoming people into the space for a more cozy din nertime experience.

“This just allows us to open up the concept a little bit more than what happens at City Foundry,” Nate says. “The sky is the limit.” n

Because of this, he and Wendy are committed to rebuilding, even if it is an enormous project that will have to happen in stages. Right now, they are in the demolition phase of the process; as he explains, the fire may have been terrible, but the water it took to put out the flames did the most extensive damage. As a result, every bit of drywall and flooring has to be removed before they can even think of restoring the building.

“It took us a year to build two floors and 16 years to build the other two,” Hamilton says. “It’s going to be a long process.”

Soon you’ll be able to get Chicken Scratch’s delicious rotisserie birds in Glendale. | MABEL SUEN

Vin De Set has been closed since an early morning blaze in September. | COURTESY PAUL HAMILTON

ST. LOUIS STANDARDS

A Historic Twist

Gus’ Pretzels has been woven into the fabric of St. Louis since 1920

Written by CHERYL BAEHR

Gus’ Pretzels

Arsenal Street, 314-664-4010

1920

Gus Koebbe III and his dad, Gus Jr., like to joke around that the reason they have stayed in the pretzel busi ness so long is a matter of endurance and bad decisions.

“My dad always jokes that we weren’t smart enough to get out,” Koebbe says with a laugh. “He says that everybody else got smart and got out, but we stayed. My dad encouraged me to do other things when I was getting ready to take it over just like his dad did for him. When he was getting ready to sign the papers, his dad told him, ‘Don’t do it,’ because it’s confining. ou work weekends, and in the sum mertime, it’s busy season, so you can’t do things with your family. But this is in our blood. We re ally enjoy being a part of people’s memories.”

As the fourth generation of his family to run the iconic Gus’ Pret zels, Koebbe knows that he is not simply taking over a family busi ness; he’s serving as a steward of an institution that has woven itself into the very fabric of St. Louis. It’s a legacy that began in the early 1900s with Koebbe’s great-grand father, Frank Ramsperger, a riv eter by trade who had to change careers after losing his eye in a work accident. Because of his in jury and the Great Depression-era employment climate, he was un able to find work and had to figure out a way to support his family. A relative knew the wholesale pret zel business, and he taught Rams perger all he needed to know to get started with his own shop.

Ramsperger found success with his business, operating as a wholesale baker to the pretzel peddlers who’d sell their wares to

passersby at intersections around town. In 1920, his daughter Mar cella was born, a date they mark as Gus’ founding because of how instrumental she was in making Gus’ what it is today. Koebbe de scribes Grandma Marcella as the family’s matriarch, and she loved Gus’ so deeply that it was only natural she’d take over the reins as soon as she was old enough to do so. Together with her hus band, Gus Koebbe, Marcella ran the business as her father had, eventually buying it from him in 1952. Until that point, it didn’t re ally have a name — and it might not have ever had one except for someone owing Marcella and Gus money who came up with a cre ative solution to pay off that debt.

“My dad loves to tell stories, and the one he always tells about the name is that someone wanted to pay my grandpa in the form of a sign,” Koebbe says. “He didn’t know what to call it, so he just had the sign say Gus’ Pretzels. That’s how the name happened.”

Marcella and Gus Sr. had seven children; Koebbe’s father, the fifth in birth order, was the first boy, so he inherited the name Gus Jr., and

unofficially, the responsibility to carry on the family’s legacy, even if his father did not necessarily want him to. At first, Gus Jr. took his dad’s advice and got a job as a computer programmer. Howev er, he could not shake the feeling that he was meant to follow in his mom and dad’s footsteps, and he bought the business from his par ents in 1980. Koebbe created the

Gus’ people know and love today; under his stewardship, it pivoted toward its retail business, some thing that needed to happen con sidering that pretzel peddling was becoming a dying art. Gus Jr. ex panded the facilities by building on a large production area, and he even came up with the pretzelwrapped brat in order to cater to the Anheuser-Busch brewery em

Gus’ serves fresh pretzels, pretzel endz, pretzel sandwiches and more. | ANDY PAULISSEN

Pretzel brats are the most popular item on the menu.| ANDY PAULISSEN

ICONIC PEOPLE, PLACES

DISHES

ployees who worked just down the road from the shop.

For as long as he can remem ber, Koebbe was there with his dad, making shapes with the old dough to keep himself occupied when he was a little boy, then working his way up to sweeping the floor when he was old enough to handle a broom. He has fond memories of stopping in at the now-shuttered California Do-Nut

Co. on Jefferson Avenue on his way to work with his dad on the weekends, getting a hot doughnut and spending his days helping out around the shop making a dollar an hour — what he felt was big money to a six-year-old.

It made sense that Koebbe would take over for his dad, and after dabbling in other industries dur ing college, he made his way back to Gus’ in 2008, buying the shop

with his wife in 2020. He admits it was an interesting time to take on a business. Though Gus’ was set up better than a lot of other in dustries, the COVID-19 pandemic presented its share of challenges, including a significant drop in festival and events business, staff ing issues and supply disruptions.

Still, he takes it in stride.

“My great-grandpa started dur ing the Depression, my grandpa

had his share of trials and my dad opened a location in Union Sta tion that didn’t work out,” Koebbe says. “Every generation has gone through a tough time, but they have always made it through. My dad always tells me that this is my tough time, and it’s what I am go ing to tell my kids about one day. I’m just glad I’m getting mine out of the way now, and maybe then I can relax.”

Koebbe knows that there is no real relaxation around the corner, however. He admits the pretzel business is intense, requiring long hours, weekends and hard, physi cal work. Still, he can’t imagine doing anything else. To be a part of people’s celebrations is a privi lege he doesn’t take for granted, and there is nothing he enjoys more than hearing people come into the shop to share memories about getting pretzels for their birthdays in the shapes of their ages or stories about grandpar ents who were pretzel peddlers. If he has his way, he will be hearing those stories for years to come — and hopefully his kids will, too.

“It’s good hearing those stories and how you are part of people’s traditions and memories,” Koebbe says. “This is one of those things that connects people, and it’s nice being a part of that list of places that people have to visit when they come in town. There is noth ing better than hearing someone tell you that they came in town and stopped here straight from the airport, even before they see their family and friends. It’s the best compliment you can get.”

ANCHOR STL’S FOOD

e pretzels are briefly boiled before going into the oven. | ANDY PAULISSEN Gus Koebbe and his wife Laura are the fourth generation to run the business. | ANDY PAULISSEN

Gus’ got its start in the early 1900s with Frank Ramsperger. | ANDY PAULISSEN

REEFERFRONT TIMES

Hot Damn

Missouri’s Own has another hit on its hands with Red Hot Riplet Brownies

Written by THOMAS K. CHIMCHARDS

Following up on the runaway success of THC-infused Red Hot Riplets must be a daunt ing task.

The popular product’s June launch was met with a tidal wave of enthusiasm among the weedand chip-purchasing public — one that saw bags flying off the shelves, with many dispensaries struggling to keep them in stock for more than a day or two at a time. The rollout was so success ful that it even earned Show-Me Organics, the cannabis company responsible for the collaboration through its Missouri’s Own edibles division, a coveted Clio Cannabis advertising award in September.

It’s a munchies match made in heaven, to be sure — easily the freshest batch of Riplets this re viewer has ever enjoyed — and the accompanying high certainly sweetens the, uh, pot, if you can pardon the pun.

But perhaps even sweeter, if you can endure yet more word play, are the fresh new Red Hot Riplet Brownies that Missouri’s Own has now entered into the Missouri medical-marijuana mar ket. In partnership once again with Old Vienna, the company’s latest offering takes that Riplet magic and injects it into a famil iar pot-brownie form, adding a spicy kick to the classic cannabis confection. The new product was launched just last month and has since found its way to dispensary shelves across the St. Louis area.

According to Show-Me Organics CMO Tony Billmeyer, bringing the unique brownies to market was a no-brainer.

“We’re always looking for in novative ways to deliver interest ing and fun medicinal cannabis experiences,” Billmeyer tells RFT, “and the reception of the Red Hot

Riplets themselves necessitated some sort of follow-up. And so this brownie was the logical next step, going back to a traditional pot brownie — but also doing it with a twist.”

Billmeyer notes that the fla vorful concoction is similar to a brownie cooked with paprika in it, bringing what he describes as a “roller coaster” of sweet to hot flavors to keep your taste buds on their toes. He says the response so far has been overwhelmingly positive, though he concedes that the chips themselves are certainly a hard act to follow.

“People are really excited about them. We definitely had a bigger reaction to the chips, I think nat urally,” he says. “But people are excited to see that there’s more coming.”

Count this reviewer among the excited. As a huge fan of all the elements involved in this magi cal new endeavor, from weed to brownie to chocolate to chip, I was ecstatic to get my hands on some myself. The brownies come in a two-pack that retails for $18, with a total of 30 milligrams of THC per package. The instructions on the back of the bag suggest that you eat only a quarter to a half of a brownie and then wait an hour to evaluate its effects, which frankly is a hilariously impossible test of willpower that only the strongest among us could possibly endure.

I am not strong, and therefore

I put back both brownies over the course of about two minutes. Reading the packaging, I will ad mit that it was a bit odd to see gar lic and onion powder listed as in gredients for a sweet treat — but I was undaunted, and blissfully so.

The chocolatey squares boasted a nice dense consistency and were delightfully moist, coming on with

a sweet and rich flavor at first before finishing with a familiar spicy finish. After a few bites, I could feel that same heat in the back of my throat as that which accompanies a handful of Riplets, as well as a faint but present weediness that often ac companies THC-infused edibles. A roller coaster indeed. As I washed the last of my brownie down with a swig of milk, I noted that these would be absolutely delicious with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.

Within an hour or so I started feeling the effects, with some dry mouth set ting in and a puffiness un der my eyes. The evening of my review had been preceded by an excit ing mail day that brought 2009’s PSP edition of Grand Theft Auto: Chinatown Wars into my posses sion, so I fired that up and quickly found myself totally in the zone. I was utterly delighted by the MF DOOM/Ghostface Killah song that serves as its title track and end lessly amused by the fact you can sell weed in this game but only if you’re willing to kill the cops that try to stop you. Oh, how the times have changed.

Feeling energized, I put the game down and approached a yoga ball that recently appeared in my home. My spastic attempts at exercise confused and alarmed my dog, who to be fair, is not re motely used to seeing me do any thing that even slightly resembles exercise — as good a testament as any to the high’s energizing, sativa-like effects. I was still pleas antly toasted three hours after I’d eaten my brownies and didn’t even feel any need to dip into any flower to close out the night, as is usually customary.

In all, Missouri’s Own Red Hot Riplet Brownies are a worthy suc cessor to their popular parent product. While they admittedly bring a bit less novelty than the chips themselves, their unique fla vor profile and smooth, energetic high make them a must-try among fans of THC-infused sweet treats.

And to think, no police officers had to die to bring them to mar ket. Remarkable. n

Missouri’s Own takes a familiar form, the pot brownie, and injects it with Riplets magic. | TOMMY CHIMS

The instructions suggest that you eat only a quarter to a half of a brownie and then wait an hour to evaluate its effects, which is a hilariously impossible test of willpower that only the strongest among us could possibly endure.

MUSIC

MEMORIAM]

R.I.P. Dave Werner

A remembrance of one of St. Louis’ best songwriters by a fellow Chimp

Written by JOHN KRANE

Dave Werner, Maplewood’s unofficial poet laureate, died on October 21, 2022, of heart complications. He was 68 years old, and he’s grumbling over my shoulder as I write this.

“The RFT? The rag that called [name redacted] the songwriter of the year?” he says to me.

There’s a short silence.

“Bah, I’ll shut up.”

He’s been talking a lot to me since he passed away, and I imagine I’m not alone. Those of us who knew him grew accustomed to gruff outbursts about St. Louis musicians, reality TV shows, the U.S. government and just about every other subject imaginable. Since he died, he’s only gotten more opinionated.

“You’re getting too cute with this,” he says over my shoulder. “Just tell it like it is.”

As usual, he’s got a point.

Dave Werner, born David Thompson, was the son of Jack and Dee Werner.

Dee was a talented musician and prolific songwriter, and she introduced her children to music at an early age. Her gift was clearly passed down.

Dave had 11 siblings, and there was never an abundance of money in the Werner household. Dave frequently told anecdotes about his hard early years, and they sound like something out of a cartoon: As just one example, he once received hand-me-down shoes that had previously belonged to a chimpanzee named Mr. Moke. This infamous “monkey shoes” story inspired the name of the vocal harmony group in which we both performed, the Chimps.

For most of his life, Dave lived and worked in Maplewood, taking odd jobs as a contractor. He found a professional niche as a window installer. He had a daughter, Julia, and was a loving, devoted father.

When among friends, he would talk about Julia at every opportunity, beaming with pride when discussing her creativity, humor and intelligence. It was just about the only time when Dave couldn’t think of anything negative to say.

For years, you could find Dave at openmic nights across the city. He’d be sitting

at the bar drinking a Red Bull or a soda and grumbling about whoever was onstage.

If you sat and talked to him, there was a decent chance that he’d offend you within the first five minutes of the conversation — if it lasted that long.

For better and worse, Dave was brutally honest. This gave him a mixed reputation within the St. Louis music community. Ask about Dave, and you’d hear stories:

“He told me I was too fat for my voice.”

“He told me none of my songs make sense.”

“That guy’s an asshole.”

Simply put, Dave had no filter. And the people closest to him weren’t always spared; even compliments came with some baggage.

“Dee [Werner], Chris [Schraw], Dave and my wife Judy [Stein] and I used to sing together,” recounts Eric Stein, who runs the Focal Point in Maplewood. “At the end of something, we usually looked to Dave for judgment. If he said, ‘Well, that didn’t suck too bad,’ we knew we had totally nailed it.”

Dave’s commitment to honesty wasn’t always a bad thing. He loved his friends and family deeply, and he’d find creative ways to show his affection.

One December, Dave left me a voicemail.

“Hey, buddy, I’ve got an idea. Christmas caroling. Call me back.”

Dave’s idea: Our friend Jesse Irwin had welcomed his first child that year.

Dave, Fred Friction and I would head to Jesse’s house dressed as three wise men, bringing gifts to anoint the child — a package of hot dogs (a stand-in for frankincense), Stag beer (gold) and Merb’s candy (myrrh).

Dave practiced a genuine commitment to his people and his art. For years, he ran a songwriter night at the Focal Point, where he’d highlight artists that he thought were worth the audience’s time. He played in several bands, including the Griner Brothers, formed with the late Dave Hagerty, and the Chimps, our trio with Jesse Irwin. We played semi-annual shows, almost always at the Focal Point.

We played our final show on February 15, 2019, a Valentine’s Day-themed showcase. For the performance, we’d promised to provide the audience with chocolate-covered bananas — the only aphrodisiac fit for a monkey.

We suggested slicing the bananas, then putting a toothpick into each slice. Dave wouldn’t hear of it.

“No, no, no,” he said. “If it’s not full bananas, it’s bullshit!”

That’s how Dave spent the morning of the show: dipping full bananas into chocolate, then hanging them on a clothesline to dry. The audience wouldn’t have cared if we half-assed our gimmick — but Dave cared.

Everything good and bad about Dave Werner is still here with us. He left hours of recordings with songs about love, loss and hardship, sung in a tender baritone that could rise to a high falsetto without

sounding strained or forced.

He wrote many songs using only his bass for accompaniment — a fretless fourstring, which is most likely sitting in a Ma plewood pawn shop at the moment (Dave routinely pawned and un-pawned his instruments when work got slow). When he played guitar, he played it like a bass, strumming out intricate backing lines and hammering on the top strings, which gave his performances a jangling sound that was unusual but entirely pleasant.

His musicianship was remarkable, but his songwriting was better. Lyrics don’t always work when separated from music, but Dave wrote words that could stand on their own.

Here’s one of my favorite stanzas, which appears at the end of a song called “Hagerty.” The song is about his late bandmate, Dave Hagerty, and it perfectly summarizes the unspoken wish that everyone has when they’re grieving:

If Hagerty comes while we’re playing this song

We’ll buy him a whiskey, and he’ll play along

And we’ll never mention the time he was gone, And we’ll play our guitars ’til the morning

His song “Past It” discusses aging, with Dave’s trademark bluntness:

My only child is growed up, Got herself a job and a man, It’s hard to feel useful, but I do the best that I can

There are hundreds of other verses that deserve attention. Look up some of his stuff from the Chimps or the Griner Brothers Band, and you’ll find plenty of examples.

As you listen, you’ll hear Dave’s honesty, his heartbreak and his depth of creativity. You don’t have to dig much; it’s all right there on the surface.

Dave Werner was one of St. Louis’ greatest songwriters. He’ll be missed, but he’s not going anywhere right away. Music lets you live on, at least for a while, and Dave put all of himself into his songs.

I lean back to let Dave read the end of this article. He takes out a smudged pair of reading glasses, squints at the screen for a few seconds and turns away.

“If it was any better, it’d be good,” Dave says. “Let’s play some music.” n

An informal celebration of Dave Werner’s life will be held at the Focal Point at 2720 Sutton Boulevard, Maplewood, on Saturday, November 19 from 1 to 4 p.m. Go to stlchimps.bandcamp.com to hear his voice once more.

Dave Werner (center, with his band the Chimps) is remembered for his brutal honesty and care for his art, family and friends. | COURTESY DAVE WERNER’S FAMILY

FILM

OVERLOAD]

How to SLIFF

e brightest and boldest picks at the St. Louis International Film Festival

Written by EILEEN G’SELL

While St. Louis springs tend to coyly lift their petaled heads before swiftly flit ting away, our autumns are a slow, satisfying burn, lingering at the door of Thanksgiv ing. Marking fall’s final flourish, as ever, is the Whitaker St. Louis International Film Festival that in this year’s 31st season bodes to be as vibrant as ever. A good portion of the lineup just premiered last month at the New York Film Fes tival and is unlikely to return to the big screen outside the coasts. Which is just another way to say: SLIFF is a big deal. The films that come to St. Louis are a big deal — not just here but all over the globe. While the Tivoli, sadly, will not be hosting any screenings (badger One Family Church about that, please — perhaps with an empha sis on cinema bringing the St. Lou is “family” together), this year’s addition of St. Louis Cinema’s Galleria theater offers greater ac cessibility to those motoring from north county. While many of the 250-plus films on offer will also be available virtually, most will screen in-person at Plaza Fron tenac, Washington University’s Brown Auditorium, Webster Uni versity’s Winifred Moore Audi torium, St. Louis Public Library’s Central Library Auditorium and the Contemporary Art Museum in Grand Center. For the first time, films will also be on view at Southern Illinois University Ed wardsville and at the Foundry Art Centre in St. Charles.

This year, a familiar bearded face will be feted: Cliff Froehlich, who retired as executive director of Cinema St. Louis in June and will receive the Lifetime Achieve ment Award. Overseeing 19 film festivals since 2001, Froehlich has been a major player in arts and

entertainment in the region since around the time Spielberg’s ET hit screens 40 years ago. Fitting ly, Froehlich’s favorite flick, the screwball news comedy His Girl Friday (1940), will play (for $15) at his tribute Saturday, November 12.

Based on my own extensive film-viewing, research and biases (women directors! complicated female protagonists!), I present the following as this year’s picks.

Narrative Features

Corsage (Tuesday, November 8): The luminous, earthy Vicky Krieps plays Austrian Empress Elisabeth in a sumptuous, if at times overly revisionist, historical drama from

director Marie Kreutzer. Loosely based on the late-19th-century leader’s life, Corsage profiles a rebellious woman at middle age grappling against the stringent dictates of her time and rank. Bo nus points for horse chases and occasional gender bending.

Enys Men (Monday, Novem ber 7): At once trippy and deeply meditative, Mark Jenkin’s latest, shot on grainy 16mm, follows an unnamed woman (Mary Wood vine) as she fastidiously records the environmental conditions on the craggy Cornish coast — parts of which are haunted. Set in 1973, the film feels like it was made that year; the past uncannily comes to

life in both content and form.

Holy Spider (Thursday, Novem ber 10): Directed by Ali Abbasi, this internationally produced thriller chronicles the efforts of a Tehrani journalist to catch an in famous serial killer responsible for the deaths of 16 women. Zar Amir Ebrahimi won Best Actress at Cannes for the lead in what feels like a mix of A Separation and Silence of the Lambs Nanny (Sunday, November 6): Nikyatu Jusu’s psychological hor ror takes root in the fancy flat of a New York couple who has recent ly hired a Senegalese immigrant to take care of their children. This is the first star turn for Anna Diop, who appeared in Jordan Peele’s Us, but certainly not her last.

She Said (Tuesday, November 8): Director Maria Schrader’s Eng lish-language debut, this star-stud ded newsroom drama chronicles New York Times reporters Megan Twohey (Carey Mulligan) and Jodi Kantor (Zoe Kazan) as they break the Harvey Weinstein story. While a bit too, well, white to adequately represent the depths of #MeToo, She Said reflects a crucial moment in recent journalist history.

Women Talking (Sunday, No vember 13) The first film in a decade from Canadian director Sarah Polley, this probing drama orbits the deliberation of a pangenerational group of Menno nite women responding to sexual abuse in their community. After

Body Parts examines the history of sex onscreen. | FRAZER BRADSHAW

Corsage is a historical drama about Austrian Empress Elisabeth. | FILM STILL

SLIFF

its reception at Telluride, Polley is already rumored to be a likely nominee for Best Director catego ry at the Academy Awards.

Documentary Features

After Sherman (Saturday, No vember 5): This poetic, nonlinear film from Jon-Sesrie Goff relies on collage techniques to mine the past — and present — of the Gullah community on the coast of South Carolina. Quietly disquiet ing, After Sherman exposes the aftermath of slavery from a dis tinctly introspective angle. (Free admission, as part of the Divided City lineup.)

All that Breathes (Thursday, No vember 10): Winner of the World Documentary Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, Shaunak Sen’s portrait of three men rescuing injured birds off the streets of New Delhi compels a trenchant reassessment of how we conceive of both na ture and urbanity. A must-see for the ornithological enthusiast, this doc also exposes the Islamophobia plaguing India’s capital under the current Modi regime.

Body Parts (Friday, Novem ber 4): Anyone interested in sex onscreen (so … everyone) should check out Kristy Guevara-Flana gan’s examination of Hollywood’s history of recording nudity and in tercourse onscreen. A feminist doc that avoids rote finger wagging, Body Parts includes a broad range of perspectives that push past the

white, hetero, ableist norm.

Education, Interrupted (Saturday, November 5): Directed by St. Louis’ own Aisha Sultan, writer and columnist for the PostDispatch, this doc delivers an unflinching yet compassionate look at a single mother in East St. Louis struggling to care for, and educate, her two young children during the pandemic lockdown. It’s a welcome rejoinder to boot strapping rhetoric that continues to plague our nation.

Let the Little Light Shine (Sat urday, November 12): A gripping depiction of grassroots activism, this doc brought audiences to their feet at this year’s True/False and may very well move you to tears. Directed by Kevin Shaw, the movie confronts the ramifications of Chi cago gentrification on one of its most beloved, and successful, Black public schools. (Free admission, as part of the Divided City lineup.)

The YouTube Effect (Thursday, November 4): Alex Winter’s lat est should pique the interest of anyone perturbed by the rising power of social media empires — from their dissemination of fake news to their polarizing effect on national politics. YouTubers like Natalie Wynn add a dose of levity to an alarming exposé of merce nary media conglomerates. n

he film festival ta es place from hursday ovember 3 to unday ovember 13. ocations and times vary. ic ets cost 5 to 350 for a V pass. Visit cinemastlouis.org sliff festival-home for more infor mation.

[NEO-WESTERN CRIME THRILLER]

Missouri’s Darker Side

Hungry Dog Blues, which will play at SLIFF this week, follows broth ers who kidnap a witness set to testify against their father

Written by JESSICA ROGEN

Jason Abrams’ dream was about to come true: He had a script, a crew and funding, and he was poised to return to his hometown, St. Louis, to di rect his movie. It was January 2020, and the project was set to begin in March.

But, like so many best-laid pre-pan demic plans, this one never materialized.

“It was like a whole odyssey,” he says. “We lost all of our funding. We had to start completely over.”

Abrams rewrote the script — trimming 30 pages — and figured out how to make things work with a lot less money while keeping people healthy. By September 2021, he’d completed it. The resulting film, Hungry Dog Blues, played at the Whitaker St. Louis Filmmakers Showcase, where it cleaned up, winning awards for Best Sound, Best Screenplay, Best Actress, Best Direction and Best Drama.

Cinema St. Louis also invited Abrams to show his film at the St. Louis International Film Festival, which starts this week.

“It was super wild,” Abrams says. “It was our shot, and I wanted to take it.”

Set in rural Missouri, Hungry Dog Blues is a 75-minute neo-Western crime thriller that follows two half brothers who kidnap a witness set to testify against their father. It’s a story about morality and how far we will go to protect those we love.

“I really gravitate toward [stories about] the ambiguous nature of people,” he says, “and how we’re willing, as people, to cross certain lines when we feel justified, and nothing feels more justified than protecting your loved one, specifically your parents.”

Born in St. Louis city, Abrams and his family relocated to Eureka, where he attended high school and watched a lot of movies — up to five a day. He did theater in school, creating “awful” trailers for the school plays. He attended Loyola Marymount in Los Angeles and worked in the industry. He’s directed short films and acted.

But he kept thinking about making a feature-length film. Then he participated in the St. Louis Filmmakers Showcase a few years ago. That really got him thinking about making a full-length feature — and making it here.

“St. Louis, and Missouri specifically, it’s the landscape of my imagination,” Abrams says, explaining that he felt like it was his opportunity to depict the Midwest in a way that hadn’t been done before.

Making the film here under difficult circumstances meant Abrams and others had to be scrappy to make things work. But he and the crew, many of whom lived here, got a warm welcome while filming in Foristell, which helped immensely.

The film’s cinematographer still talks about the burgers — and the local friends — at the bar they’d frequent, T & D Tavern.

During the 21 continuous days of acting and directing, Abrams says it was things like that which made the difference.

“We had a ball,” Abrams says. “It was super, super hard. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.” n

Catch Hungry Dog Blues at 6:30 p.m. on Friday, November 4, at the Gallery 6 Cinema (30 Saint Louis Galleria). More details at cinemastlouis.org/sliff/hun gry-dog-blues.

Hungry Dog Blues, which dominated the Whitaker St. Louiw Filmmakers Showcase, now comes to the St. Louis International Film Festival. | COURTESY CINEMA ST. LOUIS

Education, Interrupted is from St. Louis’ Aisha Sultan. | FILM STILL

A Stylish, Snappy Romance

rie. Or, rather, Mrs. Paul Bratter, as the six-days married bride likes to introduce herself. She shines with a positive, cando attitude and an effusive spirit that proves quite compelling. Corie is naturally curious with an eager-to-please demeanor that, while a bit of a free spirit, is completely comfortable with the norms of the period. She’s adventurous yes, but not particularly rebellious.

Written by TINA FARMER

Newlyweds Corie and Paul face the challenges of setting up a new apartment in New York City while still getting to know each other — while perhaps still discovering truths about their own selves. Neil Simon takes these familiar milestones and humorously ex plores them in Barefoot in the Park, a ro mantic comedy set in 1966. Moonstone Theater Company embraces the comedy and period in a snappy, stylish production.

Though quite in love, we soon learn that Corie and Paul are of very different tem peraments. Corie is creative and longs to take in everything that New York City offers a young couple. She loves their tiny, sixth floor apartment and sees potential every where, even for example, the view from the large skylight overhead. Paul is more pragmatic and almost immediately notices the hole in said skylight. She bounds up the stairs, he loses his breath and starts wheezing at about the third floor. After Co rie’s mother shows up unexpectedly, Corie schemes to fix her up with the couple’s ec centric neighbor Victor Velasco. Fun, and a few difficulties here and there, ensues.

Rhiannon Creighton captures your attention and revels in the spotlight as Co-

Luis Aguilar’s Paul is a hardworking, grounded foil to Corie’s excess. While oc casionally exasperated, Aguilar ensures we see how much Paul truly loves his wife, even as she challenges his more sensible, practical personality. Jilanne Klaus plays Corie’s mother, though the character is much more like Paul than Corie, creating additional comic possibilities. Aguilar and Klaus are both quite expressive, saying much with a shrug, shared glance or shake of the head in a way that connects well with the audience.

TJ Lancaster is exaggeratedly funny as Victor Velasco, revealing kindness and respect beneath his bravado. Chuck Brin kley and Bob Harvey make the most of their scenes, though Harvey’s deliveryman pushes the calamitous mugging a touch too long.

Though not quite as over-the-top hilarious as some of his other works, the affectionate humor in Simon’s tightly wound script is plentiful, and the laughs come easy. Director Sharon Hunter and the creative team wisely chose to keep the show set in 1966. Simon’s script, while filled with truths about love and its challenges and surprises, is firmly of its period and privilege. Thankfully, it’s Mrs. and not Mr. Bratter who’s the lynchpin in this romantic romp, and Creighton ensures we’re cheering for her at every turn. She commits fully and charms the audience even as we occasionally roll our eyes, and there’s plenty to clap for at the curtain. If you can let the outdated references slide, Barefoot in the Park is a delightfully quirky romantic comedy. n

[REVIEW]

Moonstone eatre Company opens its second season with Neil Simon’s Barefoot in the Park

Barefoot in the Park Script by Neil Simon. Directed by Sharon Hunter. Presented by the Moonstone Theatre Company through Sunday, November 13. Tickets are $15 to $40.

Paul (Luis Aguilar) and Corie (Rhiannon Creighton) welcome Mother (Jilanne Klaus) to their as-yet unfurnished apartment | JON GITCHOFF

OUT EVERY NIGHT

Each week, we bring you our picks for the best concerts of the next seven days! To submit your show for con sideration, visit https://bit.ly/3bgnwXZ.

All events are subject to change, espe cially in the age of COVID-19, so do check with the venue for the most up-to-date information before you head out for the night. And, of course, be sure that you are aware of the venues’ COVID-safety requirements, as those vary from place to place, and you don’t want to get stuck outside because you forgot your mask or proof of vaccination. Happy showgoing!

THURSDAY 3

ADAM GAFFNEY AND DREW SHEAFOR: 7:30 p.m., free. The Frisco Barroom, 8110 Big Bend Blvd., Webster Groves, 314-455-1090.

BILLY BARNETT BAND: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR: 8 p.m., $35. Delmar Hall, 6133 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

THE HAWTHORN GRAND OPENING: w/ Mvstermind, DJ Mahf 5 p.m., free. The Hawthorn, 2225 Washington Avenue, St. Louis.

KALI MASI: w/ Sam Russo, Tightwire 8 p.m., $13. Red Flag, 3040 Locust Street, St. Louis, 314-289-9050.

KEN HALLER: 8-11:59 p.m., $20, 314-256-1745, bluestrawberrystl@gmail.com, cli.re/22923ken-haller-when-im-68. Blue Strawberry Showroom & Lounge, 364 N Boyle Ave, St. Louis.

KING FRIDAY: 10 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

LIQUID STRANGER: 7:30 p.m., $29.50-$49.50. The Factory, 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, 314-423-8500.

MID COAST COMEDY SERIES: 8 p.m., $12-$16. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

WARD DAVIS: w/ Josh Meloy 8 p.m., $20. Old Rock House, 1200 S. 7th St., St. Louis, 314-588-0505.

FRIDAY 4

ARIANNA QUARTET: 7:30 p.m., $29. Blanche M Touhill Performing Arts Center, 1 University Dr at Natural Bridge Road, Normandy, 314-516-4949.

BEST NIGHT EVER: 8 p.m., $15-$20. Delmar Hall, 6133 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

THE BURNEY SISTERS: w/ Natalie Huggins 8 p.m., $12-$45. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Ave., St. Louis, 314-498-6989.

CULLAH: 6 p.m., free. The Wink! Annex, 4209 Virginia, St. Louis, 314-337-1288.

DANGER ZONE BAND: 10 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

EXECUTION DAY: w/ Archers 8 p.m., $12. Blueberry Hill - The Duck Room, 6504 Delmar Blvd., University City, 314-727-4444.

FORGIVING TREE: w/ Dr. Fong & the Long Brothers, Wayside, Luminal, Natural High, Jaxon Hill 8 p.m., $12. Red Flag, 3040 Locust Street, St. Louis, 314-289-9050.

FUNKY BUTT BRASS BAND: 9 p.m., $13-$17. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

GIN BLOSSOMS: w/ The Last Bandoleros 8 p.m., $27.50/$32.50. The Pageant, 6161 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

GLORIA TREVI: 8:30 p.m., $50-$225. Stifel Theatre, 1400 Market St, St. Louis, 314-499-7600.

HATEBREED: w/ Gatecreeper, Bodysnatcher, Dying Wish 7 p.m., $29-$49.50. Pop’s Nightclub, 401 Monsanto Ave., East St. Louis, 618-274-6720.

HONORING THE QUEEN OF THE BLUES: KOKO TAYLOR: w/ Mz. Sha and the Ka’ShA Band 7 p.m., $20.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor w/ Marisa Anderson

8 p.m. ursday, November 3. Delmar Hall, 6133 Delmar Boulevard. $35 to $40. 314-726-6161.

Few bands remain from the post-rock big bang of the mid-nineties, but God speed You! Black Emperor has not only endured through the years, but the mas sive Montreal-based contingent even hit a new creative peak with its 2021 re lease G_d’s Pee at State’s End! It’s safe to say that Lift Your Skinny Fists Like An tennas to Heaven will hold a permanent spot on many “best albums of the ‘00s”

National Blues Museum, 615 Washington Ave., St. Louis.

JON BONHAM AND FRIENDS: 7:30 p.m., free. The Frisco Barroom, 8110 Big Bend Blvd., Webster Groves, 314-455-1090.

PATRIARCHY: w/ Street Fever 8 p.m., $12/$15.

The Sinkhole, 7423 South Broadway, St. Louis, 314-328-2309.

RA KALAM BOB MOSES / KYLE QUASS / DAVE

STONE / DAMON SMITH: 7 p.m., $20. The Judson House, The Judson House 3733 Washington Ave, St. Louis, 314-406-6578.

SHAKEY DEAL: w/ Hard Rain 8 p.m., $20. The Playhouse at Westport Plaza, 635 Westport Plaza, St. Louis, 314-469-7529.

SHI: w/ Enemy of Magic, War Druid 8 p.m., $10. The Heavy Anchor, 5226 Gravois Ave., St. Louis, 314-352-5226.

SKEET RODGERS & INNER CITY BLUES BAND: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

TRIXIE DELIGHT DUO: noon-1:30 a.m., $10, 3143765313, info@theatticmusicbar.com, cli.

lists, and while that record should be the first stop for any pair of ears new to GY!BE’s massive sound, the band con tinues to produce new dimensions of soundtrack-esque experimental rock ev ery time its many members convene to build a new set of songs. Renowned gui tar luminary Marisa Anderson appears hot off the heels of September’s Still, Here, which garnered near-universal praise for its distinctive and vivid explo ration of folk and classical guitar music throughout the album’s eight songs. Ex pect a night of music that’s sure to gen tly squeeze that tiny invisible organ that sits somewhere between the heart and the stomach.

re/22432-trixie-delight-duo. The Attic Music Bar, 4247 S. Kingshighway, 2nd floor, St. Louis.

WAYSIDE: w/ Luminol, Natural High, Jaxon Hill 8 p.m., $12. Red Flag, 3040 Locust Street, St. Louis, 314-289-9050.

WE OUTSIDE COMEDY TOUR: 8 p.m., $62.75-$202.75. Chaifetz Arena, 1 S. Compton Ave., St. Louis, 314-977-5000.

WELSHLY ARMS: 8 p.m., TBA. Old Rock House, 1200 S. 7th St., St. Louis, 314-588-0505.

YES: 8 p.m., TBA. The Factory, 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, 314-423-8500.

SATURDAY 5

AHSA TI-NU BAND: 3 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222. BEYONDER: w/ Railhazer, Kilverez 8 p.m., $10. The Heavy Anchor, 5226 Gravois Ave., St. Louis, 314-352-5226.

CHOIR VANDALS ALBUM RELEASE SHOW: 8 p.m., $15. Blueberry Hill - The Duck Room, 6504 Delmar Blvd., University City, 314-727-4444.

Two For the Money: What brings GY!BE and Marisa Anderson to the river city on a Thursday night? The pair comes to Delmar Hall on its way to Columbia, Missouri, for Dismal Niche’s annual experimental music festival, which goes down November 3 through 6 at a variety of different spaces and music venues. In addition to sets by St. Louis favorites Nadir Smith, Oxherding and 18andCounting, the multi-day, multi-stage affair will feature the world’s fastest piano player, 74-year-old Ukrainian composer Lubomyr Melnykon, for a lineup that’s well worth the day trip down I-70 and back. Visit dismalniche.cargo.site for more details.

—Joseph Hess

DHORUBA COLLECTIVE: 11 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

DIALOGUE RECORD RELEASE: 8 p.m., $12-$16. Cen tral Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

DIVAS & GENTS WITH VOICES: 6 p.m., $30. The Jewel Event Center, 407 Dunn Rd, Florissant, 314-395-3500.

THE DOLLOP LIVE PODCAST: 7:30 p.m., $35. The Pag eant, 6161 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

GIMME GIMME DISCO: 8 p.m., $15-$20. The Attic Music Bar, 4247 S. Kingshighway, 2nd floor, St. Louis, 314-376-5313.

HORSESHOES & HAND GRENADES: w/ One Way Traffic 8 p.m., 20. Old Rock House, 1200 S. 7th St., St. Louis, 314-588-0505.

JOE PARK & THE HOT CLUB OF ST. LOUIS: 7:30 p.m., free. The Frisco Barroom, 8110 Big Bend Blvd., Webster Groves, 314-455-1090.

JUAN CARMONA: 8-11:59 p.m., $25, 314-2561745, bluestrawberrystl@gmail.com, cli. re/22924-juan-carmona. Blue Strawberry STL,

Godspeed You! Black Emperor. | YANNICK GRANDMONT

364 N Boyle Ave, St. Louis.

LOVE JONES “THE BAND”: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

PLEASURE CENTER: w/ Iron Linings, Heavy Shell ing, Paternity Test 8 p.m., $10. The Sinkhole, 7423 South Broadway, St. Louis, 314-328-2309.

REMEMBERING STAX RECORDS: w/ Roland Johnson 7 p.m., $20. National Blues Museum, 615 Washington Ave., St. Louis.

REX BLUE: 7:30 p.m., $5. Spine Indie Bookstore & Cafe, 1976-82 Arsenal St., St. Louis, 314-925-8087.

TOMLIN AND UNITED: 7 p.m., $26-$102. Chaifetz Arena, 1 S. Compton Ave., St. Louis, 314-977-5000.

THE TRUTH COUNCIL: w/ On All Sides, Morgan S Oteric, Roseshands 8 p.m., $12. Red Flag, 3040 Locust Street, St. Louis, 314-289-9050.

VERONICA SWIFT: 8 p.m., $35-$45. The Sheldon, 3648 Washington Blvd., St. Louis, 314-533-9900.

WILLIAM ELLIOTT WHITMORE: w/ The Local Honeys 8 p.m., $17. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Ave., St. Louis, 314-498-6989.

SUNDAY 6

BROCK WALKER & FRIENDS: 3 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

BUTCH MOORE: 2 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

IRENE ALLEN: 6 p.m., free. Yaqui’s on Cherokee, 2728 Cherokee St, St. Louis, 314-400-7712.

JOHN MCVEY BAND: 8 p.m., free. Hammerstone’s, 2028 S. 9th St., St. Louis, 314-773-5565. LUMET: w/ Ten Bulls, Pretty Talk 8 p.m., $10. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Ave., St. Louis, 314-498-6989.

MR. WENDELL’S ALLSTARS: 9 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

THE RED JACKETS: 7 p.m., free. Tin Roof St. Louis, 1000 Clark Ave, St. Louis, 314-240-5400.

SCHOOL OF ROCK BALLWIN: 5 p.m., $15. Red Flag, 3040 Locust Street, St. Louis, 314-289-9050.

THE USUAL SUSPECTS: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

THE WELL: w/ Scuzz 7:30 p.m., $12/$15. The Sinkhole, 7423 South Broadway, St. Louis, 314-328-2309.

MONDAY 7

ALEX RUWE: 5 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

CARRIE UNDERWOOD: w/ Jimmie Allen 7:30 p.m., $36.50-$122. Enterprise Center, 1401 Clark Ave., St. Louis, 314-241-1888.

MONDAY NIGHT REVIEW WITH TIM, DAN AND RANDY: 7 p.m., free. Hammerstone’s, 2028 S. 9th St., St. Louis, 314-773-5565.

SOULARD BLUES BAND: 9 p.m., $5. Broadway Oys ter Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

THIRD SIGHT BAND: 8 p.m., $10. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

TUESDAY 8

ANDREW DAHLE: 9 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

COTTON CHOPS: 5 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

MILITARIE GUN: w/ MS Paint, Public Opinion, The Mall 7:30 p.m., $13/$15. The Sinkhole, 7423 South Broadway, St. Louis, 314-328-2309.

ST. LOUIS SOCIAL CLUB: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

TOWN MOUNTAIN: 7 p.m., $15. Old Rock House, 1200 S. 7th St., St. Louis, 314-588-0505. W.A.S.P.: w/ Armored Saint 8 p.m., $35. The Factory, 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, 314-423-8500.

WEDNESDAY 9

BIG RICH MCDONOUGH & THE RHYTHM RENEGADES: 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups,

e Burney Sisters w/ Natalie Huggins

8 p.m. Friday, November 4. O Broadway, 3509 Lemp Avenue. $12 to $45. 314-498-6989. The Columbia, Missouri-based Burney Sis ters have been darlings among St. Louis audiences since even before they were announced as one of the acts on 2018’s ill-fated (and ultimately canceled) itera tion of LouFest. Sure, part of the adora tion was Olivia and Emma Burney’s youth — at the time they were just 13 and 10, respectively — but equally compelling was the simple fact that these young ladies can perform. Both are multi-instrumental ists who, between them, can play ukulele, guitar, banjo, bass and keyboards, and Olivia has proven herself a strikingly tal ented songwriter, offering up heart-on-the-

700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

GRISHA GORYACHEV: 7:30 p.m., $21-$46. The Sheldon, 3648 Washington Blvd., St. Louis, 314-533-9900.

I PREVAIL: w/ Pierce The Veil, Fit for a King, Stand Atlantic 7 p.m., $39.50-$55. The Factory, 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, 314-423-8500.

JINJER: w/ P.O.D., Vended, Space of Variations 7 p.m., $37-$42. The Pageant, 6161 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

JOHN MCEUEN AND THE CIRCLE BAND: 8 p.m., $30/$40. Old Rock House, 1200 S. 7th St., St. Louis, 314-588-0505.

MIGUEL ESPINOZA FUSION: 7:30 p.m., free. Blanche M Touhill Performing Arts Center, 1 University Dr at Natural Bridge Road, Normandy, 314-516-4949.

OLD SEA BRIGADE: 8 p.m., $15. Blueberry HillThe Duck Room, 6504 Delmar Blvd., University City, 314-727-4444.

PING PONG TOURNAMENT: 7 p.m., free. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

sleeve acoustic folk that would be right at home on a playlist alongside the Avett Brothers. And the harmonies! There’s just something about musically inclined siblings that enables them to lock in in a fashion that seems otherworldly, and the Burney Sisters are no exception. With their mom ably handling management of the group, the listening public at large has taken notice, leading to thousands of followers across social media and a fan base that can’t wait to see what the young band has in store next.

Sat., Nov. 26, 3 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

THE BOAT SHOW JAM BAND: Fri., Nov. 18, 7:30 p.m., free. Steve’s Hot Dogs, 3145 South Grand, St. Louis.

THE BROADWAY HUSTLERS: Tue., Nov. 29, 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

COTTON CHOPS: Tue., Nov. 8, 5 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

CULLAH: Fri., Nov. 4, 6 p.m., free. The Wink! Annex, 4209 Virginia, St. Louis, 314-337-1288.

DIALOGUE RECORD RELEASE: Sat., Nov. 5, 8 p.m., $12-$16. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

FRANK VIGNOLA: TRIBUTE TO MEL BAY: Thu., Dec. 1, 6:30 p.m., $40-$50. Kirkwood Performing Arts Center, 210 E. Monroe Ave., St. Louis, 314-707-1134.

FUNKY BUTT BRASS BAND: Fri., Nov. 4, 9 p.m., $13-$17. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

GEOFFREY SEITZ: Thu., Nov. 17, 5:30 p.m., free. Missouri History Museum, 5700 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, 314-746-4599.

GRISHA GORYACHEV: Wed., Nov. 9, 7:30 p.m., $21-$46. The Sheldon, 3648 Washington Blvd., St. Louis, 314-533-9900.

THE HAWTHORN GRAND OPENING: W/ Mvstermind, DJ Mahf, Thu., Nov. 3, 5 p.m., free. The Hawthorn, 2225 Washington Avenue, St. Louis. HEARTLESS: A TRIBUTE TO HEART: Sat., Nov. 12, 7 p.m., $30-$40. Grandel Theatre, 3610 Grandel Square, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

HY-C & THE FRESH START BAND: Sat., Nov. 26, 10 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

IN A TRANCE 2: A DRAG AND BALLROOM EXPERIENCE: Sun., Nov. 20, 7 p.m., $7-$10. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

INTERNATIONAL ANIME MUSIC FESTIVAL: Wed., March 1, 8 p.m., $44.50-$64. The Factory, 17105 N Outer 40 Rd, Chesterfield, 314-423-8500.

IRENE ALLEN: Sun., Nov. 6, 6 p.m., free. Yaqui’s on Cherokee, 2728 Cherokee St, St. Louis, 314-400-7712.

JEREMIAH JOHNSON BAND: Fri., Nov. 25, 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

KILBORN ALLEY BAND: Sat., Nov. 26, 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

—Daniel Hill

A Family Affair: More recently, Olivia and Emma have officially been joined by their youngest sister, Bella, now 12 years old, and it is clear that she’s got the same musical gift as her older siblings. Make sure to make her feel welcome on this St. Louis stop.

SQUIRREL NUT ZIPPERS: 8 p.m., $35-$45. Off Broad way, 3509 Lemp Ave., St. Louis, 314-498-6989. VOODOO WEEN: 9 p.m., $12. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

THIS JUST IN

ANDREW DAHLE: Tue., Nov. 8, 9 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

ASHLEY BYRNE: W/ Jr. Clooney, Yuppy, Fri., Nov. 18, 9 p.m., $9.50-$13. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

BB’S THANKSGIVING R&B BASH: W/ We Are Root Mod!, Thu., Nov. 24, 8 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

BIG HEAD TODD & THE MONSTERS: Fri., Jan. 20, 8 p.m., $30-$40. The Pageant, 6161 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

BLUEGRASS BRUNCH: W/ Yonder Eats, Sun., Nov. 20, 11 a.m., free. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

BLUES CONCERT FOR THE BENEFIT OF PAPA D:

KIMBRA: Sat., Feb. 25, 8 p.m., $20. Delmar Hall, 6133 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

LOVE JONES “THE BAND”: Sun., Nov. 20, 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

LUMET: W/ Ten Bulls, Pretty Talk, Sun., Nov. 6, 8 p.m., $10. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Ave., St. Louis, 314-498-6989.

MID COAST COMEDY SERIES: Thu., Nov. 3, 8 p.m., $12-$16. Thu., Nov. 10, 8 p.m., $12-$16. Thu., Nov. 17, 8 p.m., $12-$16. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

MIGUEL ESPINOZA FUSION: Wed., Nov. 9, 7:30 p.m., free. Blanche M Touhill Performing Arts Center, 1 University Dr at Natural Bridge Road, Normandy, 314-516-4949.

MONDAY NIGHT REVIEW WITH TIM, DAN AND RANDY: Mon., Nov. 7, 7 p.m., free. Hammerstone’s, 2028 S. 9th St., St. Louis, 314-773-5565.

MR. WENDELL’S ALLSTARS: Sun., Nov. 6, 9 p.m., free. Broadway Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

THE NIGHT OF THE CROWS: W/ Tef Poe, Monkh, Fri., Nov. 25, 9 p.m., $10-$15. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

O’FALLON OUT LOUD COMEDY: W/ Nathan Orton, Sat., Nov. 26, 8:30 p.m., $10. Rendezvous Cafe &

e Burney Sisters. | REBECCA ALLEN

[CRITIC’S PICK]

Choir Vandals Album Release Show w/ Smidley, Ashley Byrne

8 p.m. Saturday, November 5. Blueberry Hill Duck Room, 6504 Delmar Boulevard. $15. 314-727-4444. The hometown heroes in Choir Vandals have been on that local music grindset this past year, playing shows at spots around St. Louis such as Platypus, Sinkhole and even this past summer’s Lot Goes Local music festival. As it turns out, the band also spent the past several months molding and refining its sound both on stage and in the studio. While all the trappings of a rock band are present, these new songs paint an aural mural where shimmery guitars swim through a gleeful undercurrent of sinewy synths. With the release of new record Wandering Dogs, Choir Vandals presents a deliberately chiseled rock in the shape of

boisterous indie folk.

Wine Bar, 217 S. Main St., O’Fallon, 636-281-2233.

PING PONG TOURNAMENT: Wed., Nov. 9, 7 p.m., free. Wed., Nov. 16, 7 p.m., free. Wed., Nov. 23, 6 p.m., free. Wed., Nov. 30, 7 p.m., free. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

THE RED JACKETS: Sun., Nov. 6, 7 p.m., free. Tin Roof St. Louis, 1000 Clark Ave, St. Louis, 314-240-5400.

REX BLUE: Sat., Nov. 5, 7:30 p.m., $5. Spine Indie Bookstore & Cafe, 1976-82 Arsenal St., St. Louis, 314-925-8087.

RIVER CITY ALLSTARS: Fri., Nov. 11, 9 p.m., $20$25. Central Stage, 3524 Washington Avenue, St. Louis, 314-533-0367.

ST. LOUIS SOCIAL CLUB: Tue., Nov. 22, 7 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

STONEY LARUE: Thu., Dec. 1, 8 p.m., $20. The Hawthorn, 2225 Washington Avenue, St. Louis.

SUPERJAM: Sat., Dec. 31, 7 p.m., $25. RYSE Nightclub, One Ameristar Blvd, St. Charles.

THIRD SIGHT BAND: Sat., Nov. 19, 11 p.m., $15. Mon., Nov. 21, 8 p.m., $10. Mon., Nov. 28, 8

In Good Company: Vocalist Conor Murphy might be best known for fronting St. Louis powerhouse ensemble Foxing, but the grossly underrated Smidley provides a higher angle on the prismatic singer’s approach to songwriting. When reviewing Smidley’s self-titled in 2017, Pitchfork even put Murphy’s solo project on even footing with his better-known band, naming the project “as heavy and compelling as his main group.” You know what they say about apples and oranges? Well, both are good for your health, and it’s likely anyone who digs Foxing will find depths to traverse in Smidley’s upcoming studio album Here Comes the Devil, out next week via Grand Paradise. The video for the record’s first single “Another Devil” (featuring Shinra Knives) both sounds and looks like having an acid trip with your best friend, where everything is chill and nothing could possibly go wrong.

—Joseph Hess

p.m., $10. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

THIS IS CASUALLY HAPPENING: A COMEDY SHOWCASE: W/ Angela Smith Winfrey, Charlie Winfrey, Chad Wallace, Mollie Amburgey, Wed., Nov. 30, 7 p.m., $15. The Golden Hoosier, 3707 S Kingshighway Blvd, St. Louis, 314-354-8044.

TONY HOLIDAY & THE SOUL SERVICE: Fri., Nov. 25, 10 p.m., $15. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

TYLER KING: Sat., Nov. 12, 7 p.m., $5. Spine Indie Bookstore & Cafe, 1976-82 Arsenal St., St. Louis, 314-925-8087.

UNKNOWN MORTAL ORCHESTRA: Thu., April 6, 8 p.m., $28-$35. The Pageant, 6161 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

VOCAL COMPANY FALL CONCERT: Fri., Nov. 18, 7 p.m., $18. Center of Creative Arts (COCA), 524 Trinity Ave., University City, 314-725-6555.

VOODOO WEEN: Wed., Nov. 9, 9 p.m., $12. Broad way Oyster Bar, 736 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-621-8811.

WENDY GORDON & RENEE SMITH: W/ Roland Johnson, Sat., Nov. 19, 3 p.m., $20. BB’s Jazz, Blues & Soups, 700 S. Broadway, St. Louis, 314-436-5222.

WHITE REAPER: Sat., Feb. 11, 7:30 p.m., $20. Delmar Hall, 6133 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, 314-726-6161.

Choir Vandals. | DANIEL SHULAR

[CRITIC’S PICK]

SAVAGE LOVE

Just the Facts

BY DAN SAVAGE

Dear “Savage Love” Readers: After November 14 my website, savage.love, will become the ex clusive online home for my col umn. My column will still appear in print in some publications, but you will no longer be able to read the column online anywhere other than savage.love. This move will allow me to continue bring ing you new columns — new questions, new answers — every week. I hope you will check out savage.love, where you can join the community of “Savage Love” readers and enjoy my latest col umns, decades (!) of archives, the “Savage Lovecast” podcast, and much more. — Dan

Hey Dan: I’m a woman in a hetero marriage. We’ve happily played with others a bit but not recently because we have a small child. We are both bi and in our 40s. We talk ed about getting the monkeypox vaccine, but I didn’t think it was urgent because we’re not currently having sex with anyone else. Here’s my question: What should I do af ter learning that my husband got the monkeypox vaccine without telling me? I noticed a red bump on his arm, and he said it was noth ing. After I said it looked like the monkeypox vax reaction, he admit ted he got the vaccine but didn’t tell me. I was in favor of him getting the vaccine, so I’m totally panick ing because he sneaked to get the shot. I think he’s cheating. It’s 2 a.m. where I am, and I just ordered two at-home HIV/AIDS tests and I’m getting a full STI panel at my OB/ GYN on Monday. What should I do? I’m a wreck.

Seriously Panicking Over Unapproved Shot And Lies

By the time you read this, SPOU SAL, those at-home HIV/AIDS tests will have arrived, and you will have your results. You’ll also have seen your OB/ GYN and most likely gotten the results of your STI tests. Assuming there were no unpleas ant surprises — assuming you’re still negative for all the same things you were negative for the last time you tested — what does

that mean?

While I don’t wanna cause you another sleepless night, SPOUSAL, your test results can all be nega tive and your husband could still be cheating on you. But in the ab sence of other evidence — in the absence of any actual evidence that your husband has cheated on you — I think your husband de serves the benefit of the doubt.

Getting the monkeypox vaccine is the only fact in evidence here, SPOUSAL, and it’s a huge leap from, “My husband got the mon keypox vaccine without telling me,” to, “My husband has been cheating on me with other men during a public health crisis that has primarily impacted gay and bi men and wasn’t using condoms with those other men and know ingly put me at risk of contracting monkeypox and HIV.” If your hus band has a history of being reck less about his own sexual health and yours — if he tried to go bare without your consent when you played with other people, for ex ample, and that incident and oth ers like it fueled your freakout — I don’t understand why you’re still married to this man.

Zooming out for a second ...

I can think of a few very good reasons why a married bi guy might decide to get the monkey pox vaccine even if his partner wanted him to wait. First, those shots haven’t been easy to get. If the vaccine became available where you live and/or his doc tor offered it to him, it was a good idea for him to get his shots

JOE NEWTON

even if he’s not currently sleep ing with anyone else. And why would his partner — why would you — want him to wait? If you didn’t want him to get those shots as some sort of insurance policy, e.g., if you wanted cheating to be needlessly and avoidably risky as some sort of deterrent, that seems pretty reckless.

Sometimes, SPOUSAL, the likely excuse is the honest answer. I’m guessing your husband got his shots because he hopes you — the both of you — can start playing with others again in the near fu ture and he wants to be ready. Guys have to wait a month after get ting their first shot before getting their second shot, and another two weeks after that before they’re fully immune. (Or as immune as they’re going to get.) If your husband has been looking forward to opening your relationship back up — by mutual consent — sometime in the near future, he most likely wanted to be ready to go when you decided, together, to resume playing with others. And he didn’t tell you he was getting the shots because, al though he wanted to be ready to go when the time came, he knew you weren’t ready and didn’t want you to feel rushed or pressured.

My analysis of the situation pre sumes your husband isn’t a lying, cheating, inconsiderate, reckless asshole and deserves the benefit of the doubt here. You know your husband better than I do, SPOU SAL, and it’s entirely possible that your husband has proven himself to be a liar and a cheat and an in

considerate asshole and a reckless idiot again and again and again.

But if that’s the case — if he’s all of those horrible, no-good, dis qualifying things and, therefore, not deserving the benefit of the doubt here — I would ask you again (and again and again): Why are you still married to him then?

Hey Dan: I need advice as to how to restart the “sex with others” part of my life because cancer sur gery left me without erections, and it is not fixable. can have intense orgasms if I masturbate or get oral sex on my accid penis. am a 73-year-old male, and I have been into kink since I was a teen, so I un derstand that there is much more than PIV that can give one plea sure. I also understand that for the vast majority of people, PIV is what sex is about. People come on to me often, so I have no problem attracting people. What is your advice as to how to present this is sue when someone shows interest in me? With online dating, I would like to be upfront and put it in my profile but m a public figure and can’t just post a picture of myself in a dating app and disclose this. Do you have any suggestions about dating online where I can omit putting my picture? I’m attracted to females, cis and trans. I have never been with a transgender woman, but after surviving can cer I am more open to everything now than I was before. (Seeing the end of life up close really removes a lot of blocks.) I am not attracted to males at all. What word best to describes my sexual likes?

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“What should I do after learning that my husband got the monkeypox vaccine without telling me?”