Northeast Minneapolis mourns beloved ‘Marty the bingo guy’ following death in car crash

When Marty Zaworski stopped at a four-way intersection, he would always wave all the other drivers to go before him.

It’s just one example of the natural kindness that family and friends say Zaworski spread around his native northeast Minneapolis — inviting guests to his home for Sunday dinner, dressing up as Santa for children with developmental challenges, or most notably, as a beloved bingo caller for years at the 1029 Bar and the NE Moose Bar and Grill.

Zaworski, better known as “Marty the bingo guy,” died April 9 following a traffic crash near Cambridge in Isanti County. The Minnesota State Patrol said a pickup truck crossed the median along Hwy. 65 and collided with the Toyota driven by Zaworski, who was 69 and living in Rush City after spending most of his life in northeast Minneapolis. Family flanked Zaworski at Mercy Hospital in his last hours, his wife, Heidi Zaworski, said.

“He just had a passion for people and a passion for those in need. His heart was bigger than big,” Heidi Zaworski said. “It was always about the other person; it was never about him and what he was getting. He’d want to hear your story.”

Martin Zaworksi grew up as the middle of five children and graduated from Thomas Edison High School in 1974. He went on to spend 43 years working at Cub Foods, earning him his original nickname ― “Marty the meat man.”

Zaworski married Heidi, a self-described farmer’s daughter from northern Minnesota. They were married 35 years, raising seven children in Northeast. Heidi Zaworski said her husband’s warm nature made an impression on his loved ones and strangers alike.

“He would just bring the neighborhood together,” said Spencer Marks, 26, a regular at the twice-a-week bingo nights that Zaworski emceed at the 1029 Bar off Broadway and Marshall. Zaworski’s sense of humor was the biggest draw, Marks said, and regulars were surprised when he wasn’t there when they arrived at the bar on April 12, many quickly asking: “Where’s Marty?”

“No matter what you walk in here carrying, no matter your differences with the person you’re sitting next to, you’re able to get in here and have a good time playing a fun game of bingo with someone [as] extremely joyful as Marty was,” Marks said. “As great as the game of bingo is, someone like Marty made the game 10 times better.”

Hundreds gathered at a memorial for Zaworski at the Ukrainian Event Center in northeast Minneapolis on April 14. Area businesses like Sarah Jane’s Bakery Northeast, Que Viet, Northeast Bank and the Coffee Shop Northeast celebrated Zaworski. Members of the Thomas Edison High School alumni band played, and there was catering from the Moose. More than 500 people showed up.

“Kids that knew him growing up said, ‘You were like a papa to us,’” Holly Hoffman said. Hoffman, 67, worked with Zaworski at 1029; they were friends for 20 years. She recalled his love of music, everything from the Beatles to Tupac. “Everyone has a story to tell about Marty,” she said.

Liz Ruzek knows all about Zaworski’s heart. Ruzek helps to direct A Chance to Grow, a Northeast-based nonprofit working to help children and adults affected by learning challenges like traumatic brain injuries, ADHD and dyslexia. Marty and Heidi Zaworski volunteered for the organization for more than a decade, helping to host donation drives and dressing up as Mr. and Mrs. Claus for the kids during holidays. When Ruzek would grow frustrated, she said, Zaworski would often enter her office, share jokes and get her laughing in a way that eased her worries.

“He was just always there,” Ruzek said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Allison Schmidtbauer, a 35-year-old server at 1029 who’s known the Zaworskis since she was a teenager, said she’ll miss Marty’s puns and the times he roused bar patrons to sing “Sweet Caroline.” Standing at the bar one night last week, Schmidtbauer said she believes that Zaworski left a legacy.

“One of his favorite sayings is if you’re one number away, yell ‘Give it to me, Marty!’ ... I think that people are going to yell that forever, now they’ll just maybe be looking to the heavens,” Schmidtbauer said.

Moments later, James, a new bingo caller, called “O-75.″ Marks scanned his card before pressing an orange bingo marker to the square, leaving one space open for a bingo. Marks cupped his hands to his mouth, looked up and hollered: “Give it to me, Marty!”