Jeno Laszlo Berta

Jeno Laszlo Berta passed away peacefully on September 4, 2025, at Clarissa C. Cook Hospice House after a brief illness. He was able to receive both the Sacrament of the Healing of the Sick and Prayers for the Dying prior to his passing. A Mass of Christian Burial will be held at Our Lady of Victory Church on Thursday, September 10, 2026, at 10:30 a.m. There will be a visitation at the church’s gathering area at 9:30 a.m. Additionally, there will be a visitation at Halligan-McCabe-DeVries Funeral Home, 614 Main Street, Davenport, Iowa, the previous day, September 9, 2026, from 4:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.

Jeno was born in the village of Hegyhàtsàl, county of Vas (Megye), Hungary, on December 18, 1937. His childhood was far from idyllic. During World War II, Jeno’s father brought home a Jewish family that had miraculously avoided the roundups of1944. Jeno’s family sheltered these four souls from the fall of 1944 until the spring of 1945. This act of courage and compassion was at ultimate peril to all. Fast-forward a dozen years, and Jeno found himself battling against the Soviet Red Army and their godless Bolshevik Hungarian minions during the ill-fated Hungarian Revolution of 1956. Jeno and his fellow Freedom Fighters did not win; they lost on their own terms. Jeno also suffered the loss of several of his fingers on his left hand, courtesy of a hand grenade prematurely detonating as the battle raged around him.

It was at this time that Jeno and some of his friends decided to break for freedom and make their way to the Austro-Hungarian border. Of Jeno’s three other companions, only he and his friend, Frank, made it across the icy cold November water to the other side. As he told anyone who would listen, it was worth the risk.

After a brief sojourn in Austria and Germany, Jeno arrived in the United States and began his transition to American life, arriving at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. The plan was for him to live out that timeless advice: “Go west, young man!” His destination was Casper, Wyoming. However, fate had other plans.

On a cold Saturday in early March, the bus Jeno was traveling on broke down in Davenport, Iowa. He and three other young Freedom Fighters were offered sponsorship and thus began an almost 7-decade residency there. As Jeno tells the story: “The bus broke down, they put me up in a hotel. I woke up, the bus was gone, and I’ve been here ever since.” He also appreciated being able to walk over to St. Anthony’s for Mass, and since it was still said in Latin, he could follow every word. More than the language, he was grateful that, unlike in Hungary for a time, the church doors were not locked. More on that point later.

Jeno had a plan upon his arrival in Davenport that involved two immediate actions: Find a job and learn English. Within days, he had achieved the first goal, working as a Landscaper (no wonder his first directive from his hospital bed last week was to ensure his landscaper was prepaid for several mows), and then on to Riverside Foundry/Sivyer Steel Casting. From that day forward until 2022, he was gainfully employed, culminating in a 32-year run as the proprietor of Jeno’s Little Hungary, Inc. in Northwest Davenport.

In 1960, Jeno met the love of his life, Catherine Bridget O’Neill, and they married on August 19, 1961. At the reception, in what is likely still recalled as one of the greatest social events of that charming little farming community, Jeno’s friends learned the love the Irish have of family, friends, and music, and Jeno and his friends returned the favor with songs from Hungary. From that marriage came one son, Jeno M. Berta, and several beloved dogs. Cathy passed away in 2010 after an epic and heroic 12-round heavyweight bout with cancer, and now they are both reunited in Heaven, with the dogs.

Jeno became a citizen about as close to the day as one can to the five-year waiting period. He could tell you not only the day he became a citizen (September 6 1962), the day of the week, (a Thursday) the hour, (10:00 a.m.) the name of the Federal Judge who issued him the Oath of Citizenship (the Hon. Edward J. McManus), and that Judge McManus had been the Lieutenant Governor of Iowa, serving Governor Loveless. Jeno took his civic obligations with the utmost seriousness, having missed casting a ballot in one school board election in 63 years. Jeno had few regrets, but that was one of them. He was also a Notary Public, whose services were greatly appreciated by those who needed them outside of traditional business hours. For example, a real estate transaction was salvaged when one of the pool tables served as the “document review” location. Jeno never charged for these services, considering it part of his duties of citizenship. For a time, Jeno was a counselor for the then-Boy Scouts (now Scouting America) Citizenship merit badges. Woe be unto the Scout who had failed to adequately study the material when he faced Mr. Berta for the review. While Jeno was a proud Democrat, he never allowed partisanship to interfere with friendship or civic cooperation. Among the people he counted as a friend was the late Congressman Jim Leach. Jeno served as a delegate to the Democratic National Conventions in 1976 and 1980, casting the only vote for Senator Kennedy on the convention floor in 1976. He held countless volunteer positions, culminating in hosting then-Vice President Biden at his bar in January 2020. When the campaign offered Jeno a seat of honor at the event, he politely declined, stating that his place of duty was behind the bar.

Speaking of the bar, Jeno’s Little Hungary was incorporated in 1989. Prior to this endeavor, Jeno had been the President of UAW Local 377 at the aforementioned Sivyer Steel. It was a typical 1980s labor dispute- nobody won. While Jeno shared this fact with only a few people, management had offered him a position on their side of the fence. He said he would gladly accept, provided this same salary was offered to all his fellow workers. That did not occur. So, Jeno embraced the entrepreneurial path taken by countless immigrants and became a business owner. For over three decades, Jeno’s Little Hungary was a landmark, and a destination stop for many. It hosted weddings under the two trees in the parking lot, receptions, parties, celebrations of life, and gatherings of all kinds. All were welcome until behavior warranted the ultimate punishment- being barred. One story tells of a person entering on a busy Friday early evening, and all conversation stopped when Jeno said, “Get out, you’re barred.” Pleading his case, the would-be patron said, “Aw, Jeno, that was a long time ago.” Jeno’s retort: “It was (insert day, month, year) and you’re STILL BARRED!” He left. One of his catchphrases was, “Thank you and good night!” That was code for, “Get out, I’m locking the doors!”

Jeno was an enthusiastic Yankees, Green Bay, and Iowa Hawkeyes fan, cheering them on, win or lose. When Green Bay won, he’d smile and tell fellow Packers fans, “We smoked ‘em!” One of his greatest thrills was being at the 50-yard line at Lambeau Field for the National Anthem in 2011. As wonderful as that experience was, it was topped by getting to be part of the Public House’s check delivery to the Stead Family Children’s Hospital several years ago. Jeno had broken out his famous Hungarian goulash recipe as a satellite fundraiser for Public House’s efforts. When Johnna and Austin Chesney, the Public House owners, invited him along, he declined, saying, “It was not much money raised.” Thankfully, Johnna and Austin persisted, and he relented. Jeno could be seen shedding a tear, looking down on Kinnick, not for the stadium’s view (impressive as it is) but for what the place he stood meant. Jeno knew there were things in life far more meaningful than a sporting event.

Jeno was also an active participant, golfing well into his 70s and a legendary bowler, anchoring many a league team from the 60s until the early 80s. While he seemed to be always working, he loved traveling with his family. His 1978 Chevy van, complete with an 8-track player, logged many a mile and was the ride of choice whether across the country or across town.

To say Jeno lived a full and wonderful life would be an understatement. The center of gravity of that life was his faith and his family. He was an active member of Our Lady of Victory Parish in Davenport, and it will be there that he will be at his final Mass, a place he knew well. He could be seen silently entering the church in the late afternoon or evening, lighting a candle for Cathy and many others. As promised, here is “the rest of the story” regarding the reference to the closed church doors. When the Communists took power in Hungary, they aspired to close the churches to break the people’s will. Their plan was as simple as sinister: Lock the church doors. It was winter, and without a warm place to worship, there would be no gathering- until there was. The people held Mass outside. Many came, including those who had not been inside a church for years. Within a few weeks, the policy was reversed, and the church doors were opened again. Jeno knew what it was like to be denied the ability to worship. Of all the blessings of America and the United States he experienced, the freedom of worship free of government restriction was his most profound. His last likely known moment of complete lucidity was on Sunday, August 30, 2026, when Father Benedict of Peoria rendered to him the Sacrament of the Healing of the Sick. On his last morning on this Earth, he received the Prayers of the Dying from Father Patrick of Our Lady of Victory. While he was unconscious, his spirit was fully present, and, upon information and belief, that of his beloved Cathy, waiting to guide him to the other side. And on that other side, the running of paws of his dogs could be heard, waiting to meet their old friend. Saint Stephen I, the Patron Saint of Hungary, was also there to hand him some treats for the pups.

The pain of Jeno’s passing is eased considerably knowing he is reunited with his beloved wife, Cathy. Jeno’s last 16 years were without question devoid of her presence. That void is now filled.

Left to honor Jeno’s presence are his son, Jeno M. Berta, of Bettendorf, Iowa, and his wife, Dawn, and his two grandchildren, Cas, 27, and Carly, 19. Jeno was preceded in death by his parents and his brother and sister. The family wishes to extend their profound gratitude to the staff of the four hospitals he visited in the last week of his life, and particularly to Clarissa Cook Hospice House of Bettendorf, Iowa, which made Jeno’s last worldly experience as comforting as possible.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations in Jeno’s name to either Our Lady of Victory Church or King’s Harvest No-Kill Animal Shelter. The family also has a final request on behalf of their beloved patriarch: Go do a random act of kindness. Call an old friend. Forgive a grievance. Push a grocery cart all the way in the store parking lot. Smile. Laugh. Whatever you do, no matter how small, it matters. And Jeno will be watching, smiling as well.

This obituary would not be complete without recalling some of Jeno’s words of wisdom. Here they are:

On owning a bar: “It’s not the work, it’s the hours.” On gossip: “Believe nothing that you hear and only half of what you see.”

On life: “You’re gonna get old if you don’t die young.”

On patrons leaving the bar after midnight who would say, “See you tomorrow, Jeno.” His reply- “See you later today.”

On patrons not (ahem) getting the hint that it was time to go: “Thank you and good night!”

On hearing someone was off to do something: “Have more fun than a barrel of monkeys.”

On a subject of interest: “You see…”

His three favorite colors: “Red, White and Blue.”

On the blessings of being in this country: “You know what I call that? Only in America.”

On ending a conversation: “Say hi to everyone I know. And say hi to everyone I don’t know.”

And his classic catchphrase when asked how he was doing: “Better than some, worse than others.”