Dolores Kara

October 26, 1935 – September 24, 2025

MY MOTHER HELPED PEOPLE, HELPED THE THEATER SCENE AND MANAGED TO HELP ME

Dolores Kara reset the hospice clock for six days and is remembered for remaining close to friends for decades, marrying Michael Kara in a dream marriage and somehow finding time to read and encourage my work

Billy Joel was on my mother’s listening list. The Backstreet Boys, maybe. Bananarama, no. Those were the yacht rock songs filling her suite at Pittsburgh’s St. Clair Hospital, and while hospice is for the terminally ill, she had extended a stay for six days. “Her heartbeat is still strong,” said the nurse, making me wonder if patients had survived in the unit.

“Uh, no,” she said.

It doesn’t surprise anyone who knew and loved Dolores Kara, set to turn 90 in weeks, that she still was fighting away. The morphine wasn’t bigger than her soul. She’d brought me up in the neighborhood, Mt. Lebanon, and her stay allowed me time to see my middle and elementary schools, standing with stature on Washington Road, before I stopped to watch the Steelers at the Saloon and eat pizza at Mineo’s. Back surgery had left her in chronic pain, leaving her weak while we prayed. She wanted relatives and friends to live their lives while she lost hers in Room 5121-5122.

But we came and stayed and spent days and nights. We thought of her strength and loyalty to the community, especially in the decades after she married Michael Kara. They might have been a perfect couple, and when he died eight years ago, her wish was to join him. First, her ambition was to help the city’s actors and directors in the downtown theater district, where she funded shows and became a star herself one night. My two daughters encouraged her to use a Taylor Swift lyric when she took the stage for a greeting. She was reluctant, but I reminded her that hundreds of kids were in the audience.

“Good evening,” she said. “Ready for it?”

 I haven’t heard cheers so loud since Sidney Crosby won the Stanley Cup.

She encouraged me, her only child, and was my biggest fan when I wrote between ages 20 and 55 in — she never lost track — Detroit, Cincinnati, Denver, New York, Chicago and San Francisco. And when I appeared for eight years on ESPN’s “Around The Horn,” Dolores and Michael showed up at a restaurant and watched about 1,600 times. In Chicago, she was waiting for a breakfast table when two loons were holding my column and cussing me out.

“I see you’re reading it,” she said.

They shut up.

Her relatives and friends will show up for a future celebration. We were thinking about a local establishment, but a better idea is setting up tables on stage. That was her life, the showtime. She struck a precious, homespun relationship with Lindsy and Jason Kollar and became “Miss Dee” to their three children. Their tears last Friday morning will warm the room forever.

Who didn’t cry? We shared thoughts as the music played. Jason was there often. I was there often. So was actor Billy Hartung, who serves as executive director for the Center for Theater Arts and has a large annual fundraiser — sponsored proudly by the Michael J. Kara Family. “We’ll help you gain confidence, self-image and a better understanding of who you are,” Billy wrote on his website.

Dolores fell in love with drama. She went to Broadway and financed a play starring Billy Crystal. She ventured to Las Vegas in her mid-80s, joining me and my daughters for a Lady Gaga show at the Park MGM. She could gamble in the lobby and eat steaks and see the superstar’s wardrobe. Once inside the hall, she wondered why so many twentysomething girls were standing and yelling, “Gaga! Gaga!”

“Can’t they sit down?” she said.

Eventually, she stood with them. And applauded. And embraced the verve of a life so full, so involved, that we excitedly asked how long she might spend in hospice. A week, a month, a few years? She made us wait until early Wednesday, allowing me one chance to see the rest of the sprawling hospital. A restaurant was opened in the newer outpatient center.

Cafe Kara, it was called, thanks to her legacy.

So sweet, so beautiful, so loving.

Just like her.

All funeral arrangements are private and under the direction of the Warco-Falvo Funeral Home, Inc., Wilson at East Katherine Ave., Washington, S. Timothy Warco, Owner/Supervisor, S. Timothy Warco II, Director, Holly Renay Warco, Director.  Condolences may be expressed at www.WarcoFalvoFuneralHome.com