This private speakeasy may exist on funeral grounds, but they have no plans of going six feet under

Photo by Charlie Mizel

Tucked beneath a Raytown funeral home, friends and business partners Andrew Loos and Phil Worden run Til Death—a speakeasy blending unique drinks, a Prohibition-era ambiance, and a passion for philanthropy.

At just 24 years old, Andrew Loos and his wife, Elizabeth—a fourth-generation funeral home director—purchased Heartland Cremation & Burial Society.

During the day, Loos is your typical end-of-life planner, supporting families through difficult moments, overseeing memorial services, and assisting with final arrangements. By night, he trades ceremonies for craft cocktails—a practice that began eight years ago with a shared vision among friends.

“These guys would stop us all the time at visitations, asking about the bar in the basement,” Loos says. “They went on to say that for years they would go to the church across the street for men’s meetings and tell their wives, ‘It’s full over there, so we’re going to the funeral home to have a meeting there instead.’ I think they used to have some great parties down here.”

“During renovations, when we started pulling the ceiling down, we could see that parts of the room were blocked off. We realized there was an entertainment space and bar back there.”

Living in the same neighborhood with children the same age, Worden and Loos spent a fair amount of time together. One night, when their friends didn’t show up to a beer club, the two wandered over to a speakeasy.

“We just fell in love with cocktail culture,” Worden says. “When our kids graduated, we decided, rather than being sad and lonely, we’d do little Sunday Fundays with our friends.”

Through their passion for cocktail-making and weekly gatherings, the self-taught mixologists began crafting their own menus and concoctions.

“In December of 2017, I came to Phil and said ‘I have a crazy idea,’” Loos says. “’What if we had a party at the funeral home in the basement?’”

Photo by Charlie Mizel

Worden created the name, Loos’ design company crafted the logo, and the basement became the venue for their first party with friends.

But for Worden and his partner, the hobby wouldn’t feel complete without a clear direction.

“That night, after we got done, we said, ‘We can really do something with this. We can turn this into a charity event.’”

A banker by day, he had previously worked with Veterans Community Project (VCP) and saw an opportunity to get the organization involved.

A non-profit in Kansas City founded by combat veterans, the group provides transitional housing in the form of fully furnished tiny homes, along with support services to help veterans navigate challenges like employment, health, and housing. Its mission is to assist veterans in need, regardless of discharge status, and help them move toward long-term stability.

“For me and for Phil, we couldn’t really do this hobby unless it really was pointing at something,” Loos says. “It paints the lines between constantly throwing a party for people and really getting into the business. This allows us to, for VCP, to collect all of the money, bring all the donors, then we just throw it. We’re a themed event space and every event is a private party.”

Unlike the traditional speakeasies that operate on a nightly basis, Til Death is not open to the public for walk-ins or weekend crowds. Each event is designed around a specific theme and charity. This means all proceeds from the bar are donated directly to the cause, ensuring that every dollar goes toward making a difference.

“We built a community in Kansas City and were already starting to get some donations for our spirits. But the partnership with VCP really allowed us to expand and the event we were doing became multiple events and multiple nights.”

Photo by Charlie Mizel

To handle ticket sales, VCP provides a direct portal for guests to register and make a 100% charitable donation. This means none of the funds pass through Til Death, The Speakeasy—every dollar goes directly to the beneficiary charity.

The speakeasy collaborates with local sponsors who contribute product donations to support their events. Each event sells out quickly due to limited space, an invite-only approach, and a dedicated group of long-time followers.

“At our peak time, tickets are usually 80% pre-bought. Seven years in a row it’s been going on like that,” Worden says.

Recently, for the first time, Til Death expanded its guest list to newcomers who had long been waiting for an opportunity to attend.

 “People have been dying to come for years but there was no space for them,” Loos says.

“Not dying literally—for clarification,” Worden adds.

With home hospitality at the core of Til Death, they prioritize approachability and a commitment to continuous learning.

“If someone’s interested in what we’re doing, we’ll always stop and take time to walk them through it and make sure people leave the recipe cards,” Loos says. “Especially coming out of the pandemic and isolation, if you’re gonna have home entertain, if you can figure out two or three things to have a good time at home, then you can make your guests feel more comfortable.”

The self-taught bartenders’ passion for sharing their craft even led to the creation of Til Death, The Academy, offering a place for others to come and learn the art of mixology.

“Very early on in our journey, we realized that cocktails were a unique way to make connections. There’s so many people you end up running into and forging friendships with—Just go down the list of our sponsors. Otherwise, we would have never met those people. So, we believe in the power of a well-made cocktail.”

“They’re going to pay money to come to these events, so we want to feel like they’ve been transported to another time, having good drinks, and meeting new people while they’re here as well,” Worden says. “There’s connectivity tissue around all of our cocktails.”

With a maximum capacity of roughly 20 guests per event, the experience remains intimate, allowing for meaningful connections, personalized service, and a true speakeasy atmosphere.

“Even though we’re on stage and it looks like we’re the characters and the actors in this play, we’re just guides,” Loos says. “We’re just Yoda, we’re just a trail guide. The real stars are the guests.”