The world lost a great man on June 20, 2025. Vincent David Piraro passed while holding the hand of his beloved daughter, Ciana.

Born in Kansas City, Missouri on August 31, 1945, to Vincent and Mary Piraro, Vince grew up in the city's North End. He attended Holy Rosary Catholic School as a child, and—somewhat miraculously—never burst into flames. Many believe this was due to God's great sense of humor.

Vince had an older brother, Salvatore "Sonny" Piraro, and a beloved twin sister, Theresa—who, luckily, was not identical—who lovingly called him "Butchie-Boy."

In 1963, Vince enlisted in the U.S. Army, completed basic training in San Diego, and heroically volunteered to be stationed in Honolulu, Hawaii, where he served as a clerk and bravely defended the homeland from rogue Mai Tais.

After leaving the army in 1967, Vince returned to Kansas City to begin his "adult" life. He held a variety of jobs over the years, often saying, "When the job stops being fun, I move on." His longest stretch was with AT&T, where he… well, no one really knows what he did, including Vince. We recommend not asking too many questions—just take our word for it.

In 1978, Vince married Marci Kontoulas, and later that year, they welcomed their daughter, Ciana. Though the marriage didn't last, their lifelong friendship endured as they raised their daughter together.

Vince never met a stranger and absolutely loved talking to people. This gift led him to a few jobs that let him chat to his heart's content—like driving a shuttle to the airport (we're fairly sure someone paid him to do this, but don't quote us). His favorite job, however, came later in life: working part-time at AMC Barrywoods Theatre, where he got to tear tickets, watch all the free movies he wanted, and talk to fellow film lovers.

In his downtime, Vince enjoyed old movies, NFL games, listening to music, and cooking—boy, could he cook. His signature dishes were all family recipes passed down from his mother, Mary. Sundays were sacred for Piraro meatballs and sugo, or his world-famous breaded pork cutlets, known as garne mutha gatha (a name he swore wasn't made up, no matter what his son-in-law thinks).

If you ever visited Vince, you know you never left empty-handed—he'd send you home with leftover meatballs, a cinnamon roll, a lamp, a movie poster, or maybe even a chair. If it wasn't nailed down, it was fair game.

In the final years of his life, Vince faced health challenges, but he never lost his enthusiasm for life. He loved his home of 47 years in Gladstone, his neighborhood, his independence, and most of all, his daughter. Ciana was the apple of his eye, and he told anyone who would listen (and several who wouldn't) just how proud he was of her, how deeply he cared for her, and how much she meant to him.

Vince was preceded in death by his father, Vincent Joseph Piraro; mother, Mary Rose Piraro (née Schiavo); brother, Salvatore "Sonny" Piraro; and his brother-in-law, Carl Morrissey.

He is survived by his daughter, Ciana Piraro and her partner Nick Schmitz; sister, Theresa Morrissey; nieces, Carol and Anna-Marie Morrissey (Raymond P Bond Jr); and his ex-wife Marci Piraro (who even after being divorced for 45 years still put up with him and helped with the groceries until the end).

They broke the mold when they made Vince—and we all secretly thank them for that.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made in Vince's memory to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.

A celebration of life will be held on Sunday, August 3, from 12:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. at Cascone's 3733 N. Oak Trafficway in North Kansas City. If you knew Vince, come by and share your stories. If you didn't, that's too bad, he probably would have liked you.

Condolences may be offered at www.passantinobros.com