Steve Pokin|SPOKIN@NEWS-LEADER.COM
Even after 40 years in business, most people still mispronounce the name of theiconicAnton's Coffee Shop on Glenstone Avenue.
It's "Ann-tone."
Not "Ant-on." And the last name — which is not on the signwith the steaming cup of coffee — is Tasich,which sounds pretty much like it's spelled.
"I never correct anyone," says Anton Tasich, who opened the business in 1974.
Well, that's not quite 100 percent true. He corrected me.
"They also call me Anthony, or Tony or Antoine," he says. "I don't care."
We metin the small coffee shop, occupancy 65. Believe it or not, I've lived in Springfield 3½ yearsand had never been in the place.
“My wife and I tried to create a specialatmosphere, ambiance —whatever you want to call it. We feel strongly that too many restaurants do not have any pizzazz.We wanted to be unique.”
I look around and don't quitesee "pizzazz."
Hanging on the walls are old menus Anton collected from other restaurants long before there was an Anton's Coffee Shop. He knew he would someday own his own place and run it the way he wanted to run it.
Also on display are all of his own menus from 40 years of making breakfasts and serving coffee. In addition, there areold pots and pans,fryers and a small sign that says, "Watch Out McDonald's."
Instead of pizzazz,I seecomfort and simplicity.
“You are coming into my home when you come in here," he says.
Anton says things haven't changed much.Now that Aunt Martha's Pancake House closed in October after 55 years, Anton says, he doubts there's another Springfield restaurant that's been at the same location as long as he has.
"This is the same business with the same owner."
Martha's Pancake House had different owners.
Oh, there is one change. The coffee shop has always been cash only. Buta narrow, sleek ATM machine was added a few months ago.
"I should have done that years ago," he tells me..
The million dollar, 99-cent idea
WifeRobertahas always played an important role in the business, but hasn't worked at the businesssince the early years. Anton hasn't worked full-time for a decade.
The pair met at the Heer's Department Store, where Roberta was a supervisor and Anton ran the Heer's food service, which included the Gravel Bar, a small restaurant on the mezzanine, and a fourth-floor restaurant for finer dining. They wed in 1970.Anton had been married before—for 10 years—and had six children from that marriage.
"I liked his personality," Roberta tells me. "He is an outgoing person. And I liked his work ethic. I didn't want to hook up with a loser."
Anton left Heer's because he foresaw the damage the newBattlefield Mall would do to downtown businesses. The samething had happenedin Omaha, Anton says, where he was born and raised.
For the next three years he managed several restaurants, including the Colonial Dining Room in the former Colonial Hotel. he workedfor a boss, he says, he could never please. So he quit.
“I did not want to leave Springfield," he says. "AndI did not want to be in a position years later where somebody would tell me good-bye when I was60 years old.I told my wife, ‘I have been making money for these people all these years. I want to open my own place.'"
Anton's Coffee Cup opened its door in 1974 on April Fools' Day— strictly coincidence— and it initially wasa financial struggle, Anton says.
But Roberta had an idea. It wasn't a Million Dollar Idea. It was a 99-cent idea.
She suggested a 99-cent breakfast to attract a customer base of hungry, impoverishedSouthwest Missouri State students.
Here's what you got:Two eggs. Hash browns. Toast. Butter and jelly.
"Things took off after that," Anton says.
Today, some of those same customers, former college students, stop by with their childrenand sometimes grandchildren.
Theytell Anton:"You're still here!I'm glad there's still something that is the same."
A balanced life
Christopher Medley sits at a table by himself. Heis 54 andhe thinks of his father every time he eats at Anton's.
Medley'sfather took him to Anton's two or three times for breakfast after the place opened in 1974. Medley was 13. A few months later, his dad died in an auto accident.
"Part of it is the memory of dad, and part of it is that it kind of takes me back to a simpler time, when things weren't so crazy," he says. "It's just a fun, nostalgic place to eat a good breakfast."
Anton set the pace for his life years ago, long before he switched to part-time. Whenhe first opened the door, he wantedtotreat his employees better than he was sometimes treated as an employee and he wanted to enjoy life.
“I am not married to the business," he says. “I can open several of these and make a lot of money, butnever have a damn day to myself."
Debbie Willoughby started at Anton's in 1976. She was a junior in high school. She is now 55 and manages the place. Sheconsiders Anton and Roberta family.
"If I could not have found Debbie," Anton says, "I would have sold the place."
"I have had a good life"
These days, Anton and Roberta spend much of their time travelling. They have been to Europe eight times, including a visit to the former country of Yugoslavia, where Anton's father was born. They've been to South America twice and to Australia and New Zealand, where six years ago Anton sprinted off a 2,000-foot cliff to hang glide.
They golf often at Twin Oaks Country Club. When the weather is bad, Anton and his golfing buddies play cards there.
He writes poetry that, he hopes, his eight grandchildren will someday find of interest. He was a pilot. He speaks four languages: English, Serbian, German and Spanish.
He is alsothe last of six siblings.
"They are all gone," he says.
He has had his share of health problems. He survived two cancers: prostate andthen lung.
"It was a scary time for both of us," Roberta tells me.
Anton was never a smoker and believes his lung cancer was caused by the second-home smoke he had to breathe in the many restaurants where he worked.
"There is no doubt in my mind," he says.
As a result, Anton was a leading advocate for a sweeping indoor smoking ban passed by Springfield voters in 2011.
He is nowin remission.
Anton has had to bury three of his six children.An adult daughter died of a staph infection; an adult son died of cancer; and a son born with a hole in his heart died at age 8.
His oldest son, now 62, was a chef until he fell down a flight of stairs several years ago and became disabled.
I tell him I am sorry: "You certainly have had hardships in life."
"No s***," he tells me.
Nevertheless, despite these losses, when he looks back and measureshis 84years of life—the joys outweigh the sorrows.
"I have had a good life and I amhavinga good life," he tells me. "Youfind something you like to do —which I have —and find someone you like to do it with, you are lucky. I have been able to do both those things in my life.”
These are the views of Steve Pokin, the News-Leader's columnist. Pokin has been at the paper 3½ years and over the course of his career has covered just about everything — from courts and cops to features and fitness. He can be reached at 836-1253, spokin@gannett.com, on Twitter @stevepokinNL or by mail at 651 N. Boonville, Springfield, MO 65806.
10 Questions for Anton, the Coffee Cup guy
Anton Tasich, 84, has owned Anton's Coffee Shop, a Springfield landmark, since 1974.
He wasborn in Omaha and he graduated from the University of Omaha with a bachelor's degree in business administration.
In a News-Leader interview,he was asked a boatload ofquestions, including:
Words of wisdom?
"Have one place; run it well; and enjoy your life."
Can you describe yourself at age 21?
"I was energetic with a vision. I knew that a high school education was not enough."
Favorite TV shows?
"Mash, The Big Bang Theory, Downton Abbey."
Favorite sports team?
"The Cornhuskers. Are you kidding me?"
How do you take your coffee?
"Black"
Favorite music?
“Big bands. KC. and the Sunshine Band, the Eagles, Dr. Hook, Chuck Mangione and I love the Carpenters —she had such a beautiful voice.”
What makes you angry?
"Stupidity."
Best way to spend a Saturday?
"Playing golf with my wife."
What do you drive?
"A 2-year-old Lexus 350."
With a vanity plate?
"No, I don't believe in that crap. I'm just a regular guy."
