Dozens packed into Stoner’s Funstore in downtown Fort Wayne on Friday to celebrate a man who helped make laughter a family business. Dick Stoner—magician, entrepreneur, and local legend—turned 95, and the party felt more like a community reunion than a birthday bash.

It was loud, cheerful, and a little bit magical. The walls of the shop buzzed with chatter, hugs were exchanged like candy, and everyone seemed to have a story about “Mr. Stoner,” whether from childhood or just last week.

A Shop Born From a Trick and a Dream

It all started with a hobby. In the late 1940s, Dick and his father had more than just father-son bonding time—they had magic. Real magic. Well, at least the kind you could buy from Abbott’s Magic Company and pull out of a hat.

“My father did magic as a hobby, and he got me started and interested in it,” Dick shared, his voice warm and crackling with age. “He took me to Abbott’s a few times, and we bought tricks.”

By 1949, when Dick was just out of high school, the duo opened what would become a Fort Wayne institution: Stoner’s Funstore.

From the start, it wasn’t just about selling gag gifts or party favors. It was about creating an experience. That sense of wonder you get when you see your first card trick? Yeah, they sold that.

Seventy-Six Years and Still Going Strong

Most businesses don’t survive a decade. Stoner’s Funstore has lasted 76 years.

The secret? A little humor, a bit of showmanship, and a whole lot of community.

On Friday, the store was buzzing. People of all ages showed up to celebrate. Some wore party hats, others carried balloons. One man brought an old magic kit he bought from the shop 40 years ago. It still worked.

Dick sat near the register—just like he’s done for decades—greeting guests, shaking hands, and signing old store posters like they were limited edition prints.

“It’s great to have everybody interested here. It’s fun to have all the people,” he said, smiling like someone who knows just how rare this all is.

More Than a Store, It’s a Family Tradition

The magic didn’t stop with Dick.

His grandson, Colin Haines, now represents the fourth generation of Stoners to work behind the counter. And he’s not just clocking in—he’s in it, deep.

“Pretty honored, I guess, to be included in that family tradition,” Colin said. “To get involved in magic and the shop. It’s very fun, that’s the heart of it.”

At 28, Colin brings a modern touch to the old-school shop but keeps the spirit intact. And that spirit? It’s thick with nostalgia and joy.

• Fourth generation now involved in running the business

• The store has sold everything from magic tricks to Halloween masks

• Community members often stop by just to chat with Dick

A Look Back: From Joke Books to Jesters

To understand why this moment matters, you’ve gotta look at what Stoner’s Funstore really is. It’s not just shelves of rubber chickens and disappearing coin kits. It’s history. It’s chaos. It’s heart.

Here’s a quick glance at what Stoner’s has been through over the years:

It’s one of the few places left where you can walk in and feel like a kid again, even if you’re 65.

Friday’s Crowd Brought the Magic Full Circle

At the birthday bash, it wasn’t just long-time customers or curious newcomers. It was everyone—past employees, old high school friends, parents who used to bring their kids and now bring their grandkids.

One woman showed up holding a photograph of Dick performing at her seventh birthday party. That was 1963.

Another man laughed remembering how he proposed to his wife using a fake engagement ring he bought at the store. Thankfully, he swapped it with the real one later.

There was cake. There were stories. There were hugs. But mostly, there was this strange sense that maybe—just maybe—things like this still matter.

A Living Legacy, Signed in Ink and Glitter

Dick didn’t give a big speech. That’s not really his style.

He mostly just sat there with that iconic half-grin, nodding as people thanked him for, well, being himself.

He signed posters like a rockstar. He handed out rubber noses to kids like candy. He cracked jokes that didn’t always land, but nobody cared.

In between guests, he’d lean back, take a breath, and look around the shop he built—walls packed with clown wigs, shelves sagging under prank kits, and that cash register that’s older than most of the customers.

Just one sentence escaped him that seemed to sum it all up:
“I think I’ve had a pretty good run.”

Yeah, Dick. You really have.