大象APP

With a party. A big, giant, messy affair where laughter filled in for tears and deep long hugs replaced casual hellos.

On Tuesday, Connors got his party.

鈥淚 wanted people, if they could, to come say goodbye,鈥� he said, as a reception line that quickly grew from a couple dozen to a couple hundred winded around booths and the bar, wrapped around tables of cheese and fruit plates and snaked into the kitchen area of Connor鈥檚 central 大象APPrestaurant. 鈥淚t kind of developed into this.鈥�

Dozens of people showed up early for 鈥淲ake me up; a party for Pat鈥� 鈥� which Connors dubbed his 鈥減re-wake wake鈥� 鈥� and by the official party start time at 4:30 p.m., the restaurant was packed. Some guests told Manish Shah, who organized the party with Michael Luria, Kristin Brakke and a couple other friends, that they had to park four or five blocks from Connors鈥� 19-year-old Pastiche Food + Drink, 3025 N. Campbell Ave.

Friends, family members, business associates and longtime diners nibbled on pizza and pasta, Hawaiian barbecue, jerk chicken, crusty breads and sweet rolls, enchiladas and mini-chimis, and other offerings from some 40 大象APPrestaurants that had turned up to honor one of their own. Servers would replace every empty tray of food with a full platter from a different restaurant.

Connors said he set the date for Tuesday鈥檚 party last Monday, the day he was admitted to 大象APPMedical Center鈥檚 hospice facility Peppi's House. After four rounds of chemo, the last of them in mid-January, doctors told Connors, 46, that his cancer was growing and it was terminal.

鈥淎s the prognosis came through that it wasn鈥檛 going to work and I was at 1 percent chance, I thought today is the day to start talking about what is good for everybody,鈥� said Connors, sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket draped over his legs. 鈥淚t鈥檚 the best thing in life; I am here with my family.鈥�

David Torkko, a longtime Pastiche wine vendor, was one of the first people in line. He squeezed Connors鈥� hand and explained that he had just come from his dermatologist and that鈥檚 why he had a bandage on his cheek.

鈥淭hat鈥檚 even better. That means you gave something to come see me,鈥� Connors joked.

鈥淚 wouldn鈥檛 have missed this for the world,鈥� Torkko said. 鈥淚 will never forget this night.鈥�

Doug Levy, chef-owner of Feast on East Speedway, looked around the Pastiche dining room 鈥� familiar faces of fellow restaurateurs, vendors and friends.

鈥淭here鈥檚 some of my customers over there,鈥� he said, pointing to a small group. 鈥淵ou look at this room and you realize this is going to go on for four hours or more and this is just the people who could make it today.鈥�

Levy said Connors is a stronger man than he ever could be in the face of death. He imagines that if he was staring down a terminal diagnosis and the end could be mere days away, he would not likely be in the mood to surround himself with hundreds of people.

鈥淗e鈥檚 a stronger person than I could ever be. This is completely his style,鈥� Levy said. 鈥淗ere鈥檚 the guy who underwent really aggressive treatment and is exhausted and shows up on a gurney and he is going to smile and hug a thousand people.鈥�

鈥淲hen you think about it, it makes sense,鈥� added Connors鈥� sister-in-law Jennifer Connors, with her 11-year-old daughter, Abby, by her side. 鈥淲ho wants to miss out on people saying all these nice things about you? But I hate that we鈥檙e going to lose him.鈥�

鈥淚 knew there was going to be a lot of people and that鈥檚 what鈥檚 going to make him happy,鈥� Abby chimed in. 鈥淚鈥檝e only seen him smile since I got here. He鈥檚 so happy.鈥�

Connors鈥� son Cole said his father told him he had two goals: to live to see Cole鈥檚 birthday 鈥� he turned 20 on Sunday 鈥� and to attend his pre-wake wake.

鈥淣ow we have to find some other goals for him,鈥� said Pat Connors鈥� big brother Chris, who said Tuesday鈥檚 party fit his brother鈥檚 outgoing personality and love of Tucson. 鈥淭he ability to say I love you one more time is a godsend.鈥�