Paul N Funkhouser

Two weeks before his death, Ms. Hughes had graciously moved Paul from a nursing facility in Chicago into her apartment where Paul could live his last days among friends and view the cityscape of his beloved Chicago.

Paul Ned Funkhouser was born April 4, 1934, in rural Hymera, Indiana, the only child of Eva “Dail” Hudson Funkhouser and Herman Funkhouser. He attended Indiana University in Bloomington, served in the U.S. Armed Forces during the Korean conflict and worked at Terre Haute (Indiana) First National Bank, before arriving in Chicago in the late 1970s.

He came to the city as the steward on a yacht that had sailed through the Great Lakes from south Florida. The role of a ship steward – keep the vessel shipshape, attend to guests, plan meals, organize tours – defined much of the way Paul lived his life.

He was concierge for more than 20 years at the Knickerbocker Hotel, directing guests to the sights of the city, sports venues, rich nightlife, and its wealth of restaurants. On Friday afternoons, he led tours of this 14-story, Gothic-inspired structure built during the Roaring 20s.

The highlight of the tours was a hidden stairway connecting the penthouse to the floor below. During Prohibition, a casino/speakeasy housed in the penthouse was subject to raids by the feds and police. Patrons would escape through the stairway and filter into the hotel. Paul took delight in naming Ralph Capone, brother of Al, the underworld boss, as proprietor of the illegal business.

Paul retired from the Knickerbocker in 2017. Prior to service there, he ran a Chicago employment agency and was the proprietor of a tobacco shop in the Loop.

No doubt Paul heard many complaints during his time at the Knickerbocker and elsewhere but seldom if ever complained to others, even when his health was deteriorating over an eight-month residency at the Chicago nursing facility, says friends. “Gotta have PMA,” he’d say shortening positive mental attitude to its acronym.

Aphorisms, too, populated his stories, many gleaned from childhood: “My mother would say when asked if there was anything else that could be done for her, ‘Well, give me a million dollars, a boxcar of spending money and have it here by 4 today’!” He put stressed on the “4 today” noting it perked up the listener even more than the zany demands for money.

His stern German grandmother would admonish him to “stand up straight, make money and be somebody.” And when asked how he was doing during his stint at the nursing facility, Paul would say, “Well, I’m like the boy who wanted to run away from home, but his mother wouldn’t let him cross the street!”

Paul loved life and traveled extensively, including trips to Europe, with his partner of many years, Chicago attorney Alan W. Tuckey, who died in 2004. Paul retained Mr. Tuckey’s ashes to be commingled with his own.

Paul was a member for more than 20 years of Fourth Presbyterian Church. He was an inveterate seeker with lots of questions, say friends at the church, noting his questioning gave him insights, which in turn led him to probe deeper into his faith.

He is survived by Patrick L. Shavloske of Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, son from an earlier marriage.

Memorial services are pending at Fourth Presbyterian Church.