It was a cold and stormy night...

Here follows a digression on supper clubs:  Some say the supper club is a unique Wisconsin creation.  Being a Wisconsin native I never gave the term much thought.  For all I knew supper clubs existed in all fifty states.  Sheboygan, my hometown, had a very popular one:  The Flamingo.  My dad said that in the 1930s gambling was legal there—slot machines, generally.  I remember the place from the 1950’s and 1960’s.  It was where family groups went to celebrate birthdays and other special events.  It was where high school students going to the Christmas or Easter formals went for dinner before the dance itself at the Country Club.  There was a large oval bar in the barroom which had a domed ceiling lit with pinkish red lights.  The main dining room was huge with a stage and dance floor at the far end.  The Flamingo is gone now.  But I found an old picture of it on a web site when it was called The Club Arabia.

Shortly after our beer trail ride to Butte des Morts, the November 27^th Sunday New York Times Travel section had a full page article with lots of colored pictures of three supper clubs in Northern Wisconsin.  One wonders what mid-town Manhattanites thought of the pictures of knotty pine walls with a stuffed muskie and a mounted deer’s head.  According to the author supper clubs were popular in the northern state after the end of Prohibition as places where people could go for drinks, dinner, dancing and entertainment.

I missed the PBS special “Wisconsin Supper Clubs—An Old Fashioned Experience” which was aired a few days after the Times article.  The old fashioned in the title refers to the drink; in Wisconsin, so they say, it’s usually a brandy old-fashioned sweet with a couple of olives.  I may be a native, but I wouldn’t drink that!  Both articles mention the menu of steaks and seafood and the relishes on a lazy Susan.  I remember fighting with my sister over the corn relish that was usually one of the relishes and I remember drinking tomato juice with a spritz of lemon while my folks drank something harder.

We did not have Old Fashioneds at the Butte des Morts Supper Club, but rather Goose Island beer.  It was the first time in a long time we’d seen the Chicago Goose Island beers while riding the beer trail.  Marv, Elaine and I had those.  Don had a Miller High Life and Gary had a Sam Adams Winter Lager.

Joan and Tim, the owners for the last six ears, are from Chicago—that accounts for the Goose Island.  I asked Tim, who was taking time out from just baking a great looking pizza, who had owned the place before him.  I didn’t get any names, but he rolled his eyes.  “If I had known the history of this place…” he began and I’m not writing down the rest of his comment.

He knew the place began as a bar in 1925.  (Hmmmm, wasn’t that in the midst of Prohibition?)  That building was torn down and the current building was built in 1975 as a restaurant, so a kitchen and dining room were added.

Tim is the cook and he likes trying new recipes.  Our friend Gene drives over for supper often.  He says the fish fries are great.  “What’s ‘house potatoes,’” I asked looking at the menu.

“Layers of sliced potatoes, heavy cream, pepper, garlic baked.  No cheese.”  Well, that sounds good.  A picture of the place from 1957 hangs on the wall amid the usual posters for sporting events and beers.  On the back bar was this clever object—a Jacob’s Ladder with colored lights moving up and down glass tubes; it makes a crackling noise too.  I knew the Biblical reference to Jacob’s Ladder, but still had to check this out online at Wikipedia.  Sure enough there’s a picture of one.

After talking to Joan and Tim we gathered around a table where we could look out at the rain, drink our beers and talk.  It was sports talk mainly.  Baseball and speculation on where Prince Fieldler would go.  The Cubs?  Of course, there was some Packer talk too.  Marv and Don rehashed the World Series, particularly game 6.

We talked about the need for a return visit to Butte des Morts on a dry summer day.  We could watch a sunset from the terrace of Tilly’s Too.  On that pleasant note, we walked back to the van for a ride home on those unnumbered, unlettered roads only Gary and Elaine knew about.

Before I end writing about the places we visited in Butte des Morts, I have to make a final comment about that battle in 1716 between the French and their Indian allies and their bitter enemies, the Meskwakis (Fox).  In a previous post I said the battle was not at Little Lake Butte des Morts, but rather probably on Doty Island.  Well, I was wrong.  According to UWO archeologist Jeff, the battle was at the Bell Site on the south shore of Big Lake Butte des Morts.  “How do you know for sure?” I asked Jeff.  “Because of the grenade fragments found there,” he said.  Okay, I’m convinced.  And the burials in that mound on Little Lake Butte des Morts?  They date back 2000 years.  There was none here then except the Woodlands native people.

Butte des Morts Supper Club

Enjoying a Schlitz at Oblio's

Tod was tending bar and greeted us with a “Merry Christmas.”  Lots of folks were at the bar, so we settled at a nearby table.  We ordered Schlitz.  We told Brenda and Michael the story of the fall of “The Beer that Made Milwaukee Famous” when a new owner had decided to cut corners and had cheapened the brew.  Now that that is gone and the old formula has returned, Schlitz can raise its head (pun intended) again.  It’s not back to the popularity and prominence it once had, but at least now it tastes good.

As we pointed out the Robert Brand Company back bar, I noticed something that wasn’t in Oblio’s in December 2010, namely Christmas decorations.  On our Holiday Tour in 2010 Gary, Elaine Marvin and I expected colored lights and Holiday garlands in Oblio’s.  But Christmas music on the jukebox was the extent of its holiday décor that December.

Holiday Garlands on the Robert Brand Co. Bar

We were pleased to see that this year the decorations had made it out of the basement and onto the walls.  But Tod wanted us to see something else and brought out a new Oblio’s T-Shirt.  Those of you who remember People’s Beer will recognize this as a “Tip of the Hat to Peoples.”

“We’ve got stock in Peoples,” Marv said.  “Might be worth something on eBay.”

Tod Showing Off the New Oblio's Tee

On that note, we left for supper.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,500 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

The often circulated story of the French attacking the Fox (Meskwaki) Indians and massacring many of them didn’t really occur at either lake, but mostly likely happened on Doty Island where the Indians had an encampment.  But it’s a good story of how the French with their Menominee Indian allies canoed up to the Meskwaki (Fox) Indians village and launched an attack.  According to the story, the Meskwaki village was on the west side of Little Lake Butte des Morts.  The French attacked from their canoes where they had hidden guns and the Menominee by land from behind the village.  The French were pissed because of “depredations of the Fox on [French] fur traders.”  After the battle there were many, many Meskwaki dead; they were buried on the spot and hence the bluff became known as the Butte des Morts.  There is an historical marker here (Fritsie Park) that was put up in 1955 and describes the battle.

As I mentioned earlier, area archeologists know there really was such a battle, but they think this battle was actually fought on Doty Island, which is at the mouth of the Fox River at Neenah and Menasha.  The large burial mound on Little Lake Butte des Morts was built by the Woodland Indians way before the Fox and French got here.  The mound was damaged in the late 1800s by railroad construction.  Currently the mound is being rebuilt, but there won’t be any bodies in it.

So, what about Big Lake Butte des Morts?  Well, the large bluff there on the north side was also a burial site for indigenous peoples.  Most likely Late Woodland who existed from 500-1300 AD.  Although archeological evidence says later tribes of Indians also used it as a burial site, but no battleground.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh archeology field school excavated the Bell Haven and later the Bell sites on the south shore of Lake Butte des Morts.  Lots of artifacts were found dating from the French and Meskwaki times (early 1700s) and the Late Woodland Indians.  I was satisfying my archeology longings at the Bell site in 2004, I think, sifting dirt and looking for “treasure,” when one of the students unearthed a Jesuit trading ring.  Cool.

But now it’s time to get back to the White House Inn.  The head waitress, also the daughter of the current owner, led us to a table in the prochlike dining room.  We weren’t the only diners in the place.  She handed out menus.  “Oh, they have liver,” Judy exclaimed.  Go for it, kid, I thought remembering how I dreaded the liver and onion dinners I had as a kid.

The White House Inn

Like Tilly’s Too, the White House Inn serves only bottled beer, no taps.  There were many choices.  Gary chose a Blue Moon; Elaine, a Sam Adams; Marv, a Pabst Blue Ribbon (hear that, Steve?); I, a Spotted Cow; Don, an Amber Bock; and Judy, our designated driver, chose an O’Douls.

The waitress (the current owner’s granddaughter) brought them all on a small round tray with the beer glasses upended on the bottles.  Whoops!  The tray was tippy and some bottles and glasses fell and broke and beer spilled—most at Gary and Don’s side of the table.  Marv’s, Judy’s and my beers survived the accident.  The waitress went back for more after apologizing, picking up broken glass and mopping up spilled suds.

We ordered.  Judy didn’t have the guts to order the liver.  There was a lot to choose from.  Of course, I had salmon; some had the day’s special.
Elaine and Gary had the perch diner. The consensus was that the food was really tasty.

We talked about being at the White House Inn in the past.  Don and Judy have fond memories of dining here years ago celebrating a wedding anniversary.  Marv and I recalled being here one night for dinner when Don came in with Dr. Kerrigan who had just been appointed the new Chancellor at UWO.

But the day of our visit was November 2, 2011, and the concealed carry bill had just become law.  Elaine had downloaded the application for carrying a weapon and read us the qualifications.  As far as I know, none of us were going to become gun-toters.  Marv thinks his 3-shot bolt action 16-gauge is enough for home protection.  Since it hasn’t been cleaned, fired or even taken out of some closet, I doubt if it would be helpful in an emergency.  Marv says I’m wrong.  Me?  Wrong?  Ridiculous! Marv and I were the only ones there who had ever fired a pistol.  When we lived in Potsdam (actually Hannawa Falls), New York, back in the ‘60s, a young couple that were gun enthusiasts lived in the upstairs apartment.  They took us out to “do some target shooting” in the Adirondack forest.  Against the side of a steep sandbank, Dave had stacked beer cans and bottles in pyramid shapes like one would see at a carnival booth.  He fired a pistol decimating bottles and cans.  Cans were restacked and Carol showed her prowess with a pistol.  Then Marv.  Lastly me.  The pistol was much heavier than I thought it would be.  “Two hands,” said Dave showing me how to grip the gun, straighten my arms, and take a wide stance.  “It’ll kick,” he warned.  I aimed low and pulled the trigger.  God only knows where that bullet went—it missed bottles, cans, and hillside.  I was left standing with the gun pointed skyward.  Marv thinks it might just be a “girl problem”?  After all Dave and he hit the target.  That’s when I learned that all that shooting in TV shows and movies is fake.  Guns aren’t easy to control.

On a much lighter and more pleasant note, Judy told us her granddaughter Tess got a marmalade tabby cat for her birthday.  Both the kitten, named Wyatt, and Tess are very happy.

We wandered out to the barroom after dinner and examined the Civil War artifacts of Corporal LaFever.  Though the menu of the White House Inn provides the history, it is easier to go to their web siteand read all about it!  Two museum type cases in the large barroom hold his Civil War mementos—sword, medals, photographs, etc.  We were impressed with the large back bar with its columns, mirrors, and carving.  One column is hollow—a place for illegal liquor during Prohibition?  Maybe, but supposedly the White House Inn was a candy shop during that time.  The high back bar, wooden booths and wide archway had the look of the Robert Brand Company.  We were invited to come behind the bar and look for the Brand insignia, but couldn’t find one.  We asked the bartender, who happened to be the owner’s daughter, if she knew.  “I’ll call and ask,” she said dialing her dad’s number.  She asked, “Who built the back bar?”  His answer “Robert Brand Co. of Oshkosh.”

Robert Brand Co. Bar

It was still raining when we said our good-byes and stepped outside.  Though the Butte des Morts Supper Club, our last stop of the evening, was just a hop, skip and jump away.  We piled into the white van and Judy drove us around the corner to the supper club.

However, we didn’t count on the weather being as wet and rainy as it was on November 2.  Given the location of our houses, it was more convenient that Don and Judy pick up Marv and me and then Elaine and Gary who live in the Western sticks.  So our designated driver was Judy, and Gary would be allowed to imbibe.

It also meant we went by back roads known only to those who live on the back roads of Winnebago County—such as Gary and Elaine.  I was aware that Judy drove through Omro—we passed the old high school that is now an apartment building for elderly folks.  Then we drove down the main street of Omro, over the bridge, through Winneconne, over another bridge and then I was lost.  Except for a short stint on highway 116, none of the roads had numbers, maybe letters, but mainly names.

Tilly's Too Sits on former hotel site

At last we turned a corner and there was the small village of Butte des Morts.  We parked at Tilly’s Too, dodged the raindrops and went inside.  My nephew Steve who lives in Mequon is an avid NASCAR fan.  He’d been to Tilly’s and won some kind of  NASCAR pool there.  He’s the PBR drinker I’ve mentioned in other posts.

Tilly’s Too doesn’t have any taps, but the choices of bottled beer were many.  We all drank Barely Naked (the Beer, that is—we kept our clothes on).  There were lots of people at the bar, some talking; others, like us, staring at the lake that was now in twilight and misty with rain through the large picture window above the back bar.

Frankie pours a cool one with owner

Owner Tom was pleased to meet us and eagerly plunged into the history of the place.  After listening for a few minutes and looking at the newspaper clippings on the wall, we knew we were in an old place.  First building on this site was the Petford Hotel.  According to records of the State Historical Society (I looked this up) “Thomas R. Petford, an Englishman, who died in 1908 kept a tavern for 60 years.”  This tavern was on the stagecoach road connecting Butte des Morts to towns east and west of it.  Well, if he had the tavern (also a hotel) that takes us back to the mid 1840s.  On the wall there’s a picture of the Petford hotel as well as its successor, the Butte des Morts Inn.  In 1927 the hotel was owned and operated by Frank and Viola Tilly.  After Frank Tilly died, “Ma Tilly” ran the place until she retired in 1960.  Then her daughter Alice and son-in-law Frank Kachur ran Tilly’s Tavern as it was now called.  They retired in 1999; Frank Kachur died in 2000, but Alice lived to be 92 and died on Halloween of 2011.  Her obituary from the Winneconne News hangs on the wall along with the pictures of the old hotels.  Since their retirement in 1999, Cindy and Tom have owned the place.

Cindy, Tom’s wife, joined us and Tom passed out small souvenir flashlights to each of us as a memento of our visit.  Mine is already on my keychain replacing the LED one that had died.  In honor of the Tilly’s, Tom and Cindy have kept the name and added “Too.”  They’ve added a few things from the past.  Over the picture window above the back bar, hangs a sign “Butte des Morts” that once identified the post office.  And the west wall’s panels are boards from the original Petford Hotel.

Beer Trail Riders with Tom and Cindy

We took our beers to one of the two round tables on the east wall.  With beer in hand we drank a toast to Steve Wesenberg and Jerry’s Bar.  Steve Wesenberg, long time owner of Jerry’s Bar and founder of the Otter Street Fishing Club, which calls Jerry’s its home, had died a few weeks ago.  Then Marv wandered off to the men’s room and the rest of us wandered off to read more signs on the walls.  There was just so much stuff to look at.  A poem in praise of Tilly’s caught our eyes.  So did the string of fishing lures encircling the room along the ceiling’s edge.  Marv estimated there were 150 lures including some of his old favorites:  a Daredevil, a Bassareno with three triple-hooks, and a silver minnow.  He recalls that as a boy he once caught a 3-½ pound large mouth bass with a silver minnow and a bit of bacon rind on Montello Lake.

Cindy urged us to look out the picture window behind the bar at the two terraces with umbrella-topped tables.  During the summer most guests come by boat and tie up at their 135-foot pier.  We had noticed the spotter scope fastened on the back bar.  How many people we wondered, had gazed through that at boaters and ice fishermen.

Tilly's Too Terraces

Like many places we’ve visited, the walls of Tilly’s are covered with pictures, posters and pithy quotes.  Here are some of the latter:  “If you are agitated and confused, my job here is done.”  “If it weren’t for the last minute of the day, nothing would get done.” “If I get to drinking on Friday and ask you to stay till Monday, I don’t really mean it.”

Back at the table we talked about Halloween and Trick or Treating.  Marv and I estimated we had only a couple dozen kids, and, even though we were generous with the treats, there are a couple bags of “fun-sized” candy bars in the freezer.  Country folks Elaine and Gary only bought a half-dozen Snickers bars (full sized), but nary a knock on their door Halloween evening.  Well, I wonder if those bars are in their freezer or Gary’s tummy.  Meanwhile Judy and Don handed out all 135 snacks they had by 6:30!  Judy bemoaned the fact that there were no leftovers.  (Maybe I should tell her what’s in my freezer.)  When the hours for Trick or Treating are from 5 to 7, when do the folks handing out treats get to eat?  We had subs from Pick and Save, but Don and Judy solved the supper problem by having a crock-pot full of lamb shanks and beans.  One father taking his kids Trick or Treating asked if he could stay for supper.  Elaine and Gary have embarked on a project—going through their old photographs.  We looked at one of Elaine running across the field behind their house.  We decided she looks the same—or was that the beer talking?

It was now time to move on.  We abandoned our plan to walk as it was raining harder now.  We got in the van and drove around the corner to the White House Inn.

Mario's with its Green Mexican Touches

The six of us nearly filled the small barroom with its red leather cushion along the 20 foot bar and comfy black leather bar stools.  Behind the bar at the west end was a huge projection TV, and a Leinekugel’s clock.  The bar had four taps.  And the barroom had lots of Halloween decorations.  It was October 18th, Halloween was barely two weeks away.  We met owner Cindy and her daughter Miranda.

Daughter and Mom

Cindy knew a lot of the history of this place.  The business, according to her, was established in 1910.  In 1926 a fire destroyed most of the building.  It was quickly rebuilt and the six dark wood booths in the restaurant portion of the building are survivors of that fire.

She also said that the place was a tavern and gas station after it was rebuilt.  Packers’ Pub and Robbins Supper Club also began as gas stations and tavern / store / restaurant.  Marv and I think when we moved to Oshkosh in 1966 that the gas station was still part of the tavern at 2505 Oregon Street.  We think the present barroom was probably the office of the gas station where one paid probably less than thirty cents a gallon for gas and got the windshield washed, the oil and tires checked for free.

We wondered also that if it had been a tavern since 1910, what was it during Prohibition?  And what caused the fire?  Miranda wasn’t sure; then she led us to a table for six in the restaurant portion.  Here were the six booths that had survived the fire.  Each was lit by an Old Style lamp feigning to be Tiffany’s. Corona beer banners hung across the ceiling here as well as in the bar.  The special of the night was a whiskey BBQ burger.  We ordered beers and studied the menu.  We tried Dos Equis and Don did a pretty good imitation of the actor in the Dos Equis ads.  “The Most Interesting Man in the World” says, “I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.  Stay thirsty, my friends.”

Original wood booths

Despite the tempting special, Marv, Gary, Elaine and I ordered quesadillas.  Don and Judy chose the “wet burritos.”  Gary repeated a story he had heard from a farmer friend about German POW’s during WWII.  The farmer worked with German POWs, and told Gary and Elaine the story about Rumlow’s Tavern (Gary thinks this was a former name for Mario’s). The farmers would take the Germans by truck from the farms where they were working to their barracks south of town and stop at Rumlow’s for beer. The owner would not allow the POW’s into the tavern (we were at war with Germany) and the farmers would then order the beers and take them outside. The Germans worked in agriculture.  Some of the prisoners, who were repatriated after the war, came to visit in later years, and some of them brought their families. It must have been a bittersweet trip for everyone involved when that happened. Gary added one more bit: one of the local crops was hemp.  Haven’t we just heard that farmers would like to raise hemp again?

Gary’s story led to more stories about German POW’s.  Marv told of German POWs in his part of Illinois who helped out at the local canning factory.  He recalled hearing them singing Lili Marlene in the evenings.  Now, how many of you readers of this blog can say you’ve heard Marlene Dietrich or Vera Lynn sing that song:  “Underneath the lantern, by the barrack gates standing all alone, each night you see her wait….my lily of the lamplight…”  It was popular with both German and allied soldiers.  One of our faithful blog followers tells us that someone wrote a book about the many German POW camps in Wisconsin.  I looked it up on Amazon and here it is:  Stalag Wisconsin: Inside WWII Prisoner of War Camps by Betty Cowley.  The book came out on January 24, 2002.

This Guy's Waited a Long Time for his Beer

As usual Marv checked the men’s room and mentioned two “works of art”:  a small painting of a desert sunset painted on black velvet and a print of a “big-bosomed Hottie” (his words) with a gun entitled “Viva mi Raza.”  Wonder if she has a concealed carry permit tucked in her bulging bra ?

Don Blows Out the Birthday Candle

“Would you like dessert?” Our waitress asked.  The food had been plentiful and good and we knew there was a birthday dessert awaiting us at Don and Judy’s.  But while we hesitated and considered dessert, she placed a “birthday dessert” in front of Don.  A generous scoop of fried ice cream decorated with rosettes of whipped cream, a maraschino cherry and one tiny candle.  Don puckered up and blew it out as we sang “Happy Birthday.”

We’d finished dinner and peeked into the private dining room, wandered back to the barroom to say our goodnights.  On the way out the side door, we stopped at “Mario’s Challenge Hall of Fame” poster to see who held the monthly record for Taco eating at one sitting.  The poster is a large calendar showing pictures and taco eating stats of past winners.  Monthly winners get a free T-shirt reading “I Ate the Taco”.  The current record is 24.  Anyone out there think they can do better?

Wouldn't Your Name and Picture Look Good Here?

Chillerz' Purple Door

Why, I asked, did your neighbors want a beat-up old bowling alley?  At this point I recalled that in my old Sheboygan neighborhood there was a bowling alley in the haymow of an old barn on North 8^th Street.  The barn had been converted into a garage, but we neighborhood kids would try to bowl on that warped alley anyway.  No one wanted to pick up the scattered pins, so the games never lasted very long.  Maybe Gary and Elaine’s neighbors wanted the bowling lane for their kids in their garage?  Nope.  They wanted the wood to make countertops.

Nevertheless as I stood at the bar of Chillerz on that October 18^th night, I couldn’t imagine enough room for a bowling lane, ball return and a pinsetter.  But the present owners agreed with Gary—once there had been a lane in the place long before the tavern was Blondie’s. It was removed in the early ’70’s during the Blondie era.

But there was a more important event that distracted us from thoughts of bowling.  It was Don’s birthday!  He bought us a round of beer and a Coke for Gary the designated driver and we belted out a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” to Don.  Chillerz had seven taps.  Marv, Elaine, the Birthday Boy and I had a Leinekugel’s Summer Shandy.  It was a pale beer with a slight lemon taste.  Okay, but I probably won’t have that again.  Judy chose a Miller.

Happy Birthday, Don!

Chillerz was previously housed on Ninth in what had been Novotny’s Split Level.  After owners Jennifer and Don moved to Oregon Street and bought what had been Blondie’s on June 30, 2010, the former Chillerz became Mo’s and is now Diesel’s.  Another sign we noticed of the quick change in tavern ownership in Oshkosh.  Don and Jenni own another Chillerz in an old building in New London.  Jenni is interested in the history of the places she owns and told us the Chillerz building on Oregon Street was built in 1918.  (No one knew what became of it during Prohibition.)

Smiling Owner Jenni

The bar and back bars are made of old dark wood—nice moldings and mirrors hiding behind T-Shirts celebrating the Packers, Brewers and Badgers.  We wondered if we had discovered another Brand Company bar.  Jennifer invited us behind the bar to look for the Brand insignia as we told her the story of the Brand Company, which manufactured boats, furniture and cabinetry in Oshkosh until the late 1950s.  There was no Brand Company insignia on the bar, but it sure looked as if it could be one.

But back to the Birthday Boy.  He and Judy told us about their trip to New York City and that they had seen three plays:  Memphis, Anything Goes and their favorite Wicked.  And, Yes! They were on the Today Show and Judy got to say a few words to Ann Curry and give her a hug!  Chillerz jukebox had Frank singing “New York, New York,” which, of course, Don played.  We all joined in singing the New York part and danced too.  Then another Don favorite, Lady Antebellum brought more singing.  Judy’s birthday present to Don was tickets to see the play Lombardiat the Milwaukee Rep. Gee, they’re going to be all “played” out.

Make way for Elaine & Gary (Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Murray)

As I said earlier Chillerz is deep, but not wide.  Walking toward the back room, we passed the usual pool table and a folded up poker table.  Farther back there’s room and equipment for a small band or combo to perform.  There were spotlights and a mirror ball as well as two dart machines.  A small sign on the wall, read “Rehab is for Quitters.”  Outside there is a spacious deck overlooking a volleyball court.  I remember when Blondie’s put that up.

Jennifer and Don seem to know what makes a tavern successful.  A big wheel at the west end of the back bar reads, “Try the Spin of the Day.  Ask the Bartender.”  We didn’t do that as we were there for just one beer.  They have a website and you can be their friend on Facebook.

Most likely the 1918 building didn’t have indoor plumbing.  The restrooms look as if they were added later.  They jut out like small closets in the back room, men’s on the north side and women’s on the south wall.  Nevertheless the men’s had enough wall space for posters promoting the Green Bay Gamblers hockey team and “Halloween Express,” and a “Creative Health Center.”  By inserting three quarters, a guy could buy a “Glow in the Dark Cock Ring.”  Two quarters purchased a “Tickle Their Fancy with Pleasure” kit; another four bits offered “Premium Latex Condoms”—four choices: “Ultra Thin, Studded, Ribbed, Assorted.”

The Ladies was equally small, very clean and featured a lovely mirror.  The only drawback we noticed was the lack of a hook on the door.  Oops.  It also lacked anything to promote “Health.”  Gender equity, anyone?

Chillerz Wheel of Fortune

Marv noticed a big “Card Game” punch board on the back bar.  He told us that such boards were ruled illegal in Illinois a long time ago probably because many owners kept selling punches long after they knew all the “winners” had been punched out.

Chillerz sells sandwiches, but we had another place in mind for supper.  So we left with Jennifer telling Don Happy Birthday one more time.

Our conversation with Scott Engel, fourth generation owner of the place, was so interesting that I took notes.  (I am a former English teacher and sometime writer and always carry a small notebook.)  Hearing this our daughter Brenda suggested we start on blog about our beer trail rides and her husband Michael told us how to set it up.

When I heard of Steven Wesenberg’s death from Doug, our son Tom’s friend, I recalled our visit to Jerry’s and the blog post.  I reread it and thought about taverns and ownership.  Not many Oshkosh taverns have been in the same family for 100 years, but Jerry’s has.  Some we have visited have changed owners as regularly as we change the oil in our cars!  Steven Wesenberg was the third member of his family to own Jerry’s; Scott Engel is his nephew.

Marvin, Don, Scott Engel and Gary August 10, 2009

In addition to being impressed with such long-term ownership, which we immediately made a point of interest for the blog, we began to realize just how hard tavern owners, and often their families, work to make a success of their businesses. We also began to add that to our consideration as we went from tavern to tavern.  Jerry’s is best known as the home of the Otter Street Fishing Club; Steven was past president of it and devoted time and talent to its events.  Indeed, we were impressed on our visit to see the dozens of scrapbooks and mementos of the Club and its work.

On our next beer ride, we’ll drink a toast to Steven and the heritage of Jerry’s.

Joey's on Main

Earlier in the day I had looked up Joey’s menu online and noticed there were lots of choices and everything sounded good.  At the bar we visited with Darin, co-owner.  This place has only been known as Joey’s for a couple of years.  Before that it was Joe’s Sample House and before that?  Who knows?

There were eight taps including that Shock Top one and also a raspberry beer.  But I don’t like fruit flavored beer—too much like a sissy wine cooler.  So all of us, except designated driver Gary and Don, had a Fat Tire.  I don’t remember what Don had.  There was a small glass of the

Attractive Bartender

raspberry stuff, but surely he had something less “girly” than that.

We gathered at a couple of tables and read the menu.  Marv and Don had hamburgers named Heart Attack chosen from the burger list entitled “Kick-Ass Burgers.”  But they said these had less fat than others like the triple burger.  A couple of us went with cheeseburgers.  All of us chose the homemade chips.  The sandwiches and chips were tasty.No one tried the homemade pizza—another time, maybe.

Heart Attack

Elaine and GAry with Joey's Menu

Our talk was of New York City. Don and Judy asked if we had ever been there because they were leaving the next morning for the Big Apple.  Yeah, Marv and I said.  We spent a week of our honeymoon (49 years ago) in New York City.  We named the plays we’d gone to:  My Fair Lady, A Man for All Seasons starring Paul Scofield, Carnival (really bad acting), and Genet’s The Blacks.  None of that surprised our pals until we told of our visit to Yankee Stadium.  Marv is a lifelong Yankee fan.  The Yankees won 2-0, but I was in the restroom when they scored their two runs in the 8^thinning.  I did hear the cheering, though. We probably would not have gone to NYC except for the fact that we had moved to Potsdam, New York.  Can’t find Potsdam on the map?  Go 80 miles northwest of Lake Placid; or 60 miles or so southeast of Ottawa, Canada.  Aha! There it is.

Former Potsdam Couple

Don and Judy had tickets to three plays:  Memphis, Wicked, and Anything Goes and also hoped to be seen on the Today Show, as they have been fans of it for years.  Check our next post to see if they got on the show.

Don hoped to find “New York, New York” on Joey’s jukebox.  But no luck.  He had looked for it on Casey’s jukebox and not found it there either.

Joey’s has a warm, comfy feeling with its golden oak back bar and red walls.  The north wall where the booths and tables are has been stripped down to its cream-city brick.  A few neon beer signs hang on it.  The clientele was young and friendly.  A game was underway at the pool table in the back.  A couple of guys were playing Power Players Darts.  Joey’s also has an ATM machine.  That seems to be a requirement in every tavern.  In the “old days” bartenders just cashed one’s paycheck.  Now you just step up to the ATM.  Joey’s also has an assortment of gaming machines.

Judy, Elaine and I checked out the “ladies.”  Someone had made sure the sink was well

The Well-caulked Sink

caulked.  And we admired the French poster.  The men’s room, according to Marv, was very interesting.  A sign over the urinal read, “Pee in this direction” and had an arrow pointed up.  Lots of graffiti that Marv would tell us but which could not be put on the blog.  One read, “You all suck.  That’s right!  All of you!”  Sounds like that writer had anger management issues.  Another one was of a heart enclosing the message “Books on tape.”  Nice to know someone likes books on tape so much he wrote it on a men’s john wall.  Must have been an English major.

Back at our table we got on the subject of high school reunions.  Do you go or not?  Marv and I graduated from high school the same year, but not the same school.  His graduating class had only 26 kids; mine had over 200.  I’ve missed only a couple of mine.  My reunions go on for a couple of days and at various locales in Sheboygan; his, one night at the high school gym.  He missed his last one—well, actually it was cancelled. Oh, oh.  This wasn’t a reunion year for us, but was for Don (Campbellsport) and Judy (Chilton).  Don told of a former classmate who wanted to tell all the misfortune in his life.  “I didn’t even have to put a nickel in the guy to get him to spill his troubles,” said Don.  Judy’s reunion featured an Elvis impersonator as a guest.  “His voice was awesome,” Judy said and he “danced with the ‘ladies’.”  What? No scarves around the necks?

Bound for New York City

Our food was gone, and our beer glasses empty.  As we headed to the back door, we met the chef.  “Good food!” we said and had a laugh at his T-shirt:  “Do something worth while in your life.  Get me a beer!”  It had been a good night on the trail, but it was time to get our New York bound folks home.

Chef with a message.

The Hole in the Wall

Yes, we were on another beer trail ride.  These glasses were raised at Casey’s at 668 6^th Avenue.  It was Monday, Sept. 26.  We only had time for two stops as Don and Judy were leaving the next morning for a whirlwind trip to New York City.  We had decided on Casey’s after some research done by Gary and Elaine.  “Research” here means talking to their son, who described Casey’s as “old and safe.”  Hmmm, what does that say about the six of us?

Casey’s sits in a residential area not too far off Ohio Street.  It has two entrances:  one on the west side and one on the east.  Three of us chose the west entrance and were taken by a hole in the wall filled with a beer bottle.  The barroom is spacious and L-shaped.  The bar, roughly oval shaped (like a

The "Home Stretch" of Casey's Bar

race track) fills the south side of the room.  The back half of the barroom is empty save for a pool table and a foosball table.  No booths or tables, but lots of standing room for players and kibitzers.  If one wants to sit down, the black “leather” barstools with padded backs are comfy.

Bartender and owner is Lee who bought the place in 1999.  Gary and Don knew the previous owner—Anita, who worked at UWO.  At that time the tavern was called Stanley’s.  Lee showed us an old photograph of the place, which was then called Home Tavern.

There are eight or nine beer taps.   The usual Miller and Miller’s Lite, Bud and Bud Light.  But Marv and I chose the Leinebugel’s Oktoberfest and

Lee poses with the taps. Check the Shock Top!

Don, Judy and Elaine had the Belgian Shock Top. I think they chose that because the tap handle was so cute.  Gary, our designated driver, had a glass of water so he could join the toast to Amy.

Lee says the place has been remodeled three times.  The brick front and three octagonal windows smack of 60s architecture.  Lee says when he took over in 1999, the large octagonal windows were boarded up inside and out.  He tore the boards off and found the glass cracked and broken.  Seems the rattle and rumble of the Soo Line freight trains on tracks only 50 feet or so to the northwest broke the glass.  The cost of three large panes of glass specially cut into octagonal shape was just too much for the previous owner, hence the boarded up windows.  The Soo tracks and trains are long gone and so the windows are back.  The only train reference left is the name Casey as in Casey Jones:  “mounted to his cabin/ With his orders in his hand.”

There was a handful of patrons in the place, among them the son of our friend Joel.  Son’s wife took our card and said she’d look us up.  We also gave a card to Lee, but he’s not a computer guy.  He stuck it somewhere on the back bar.

While Marvin checked out the men’s room and the rest visited with patrons, Elaine explained to me how she got the nasty bruise on her chin.  While carrying a small stepladder down the basement stairs, she tripped and fell three steps.  The chin bruise was all I saw, but I gathered her jeans and shirt covered larger more remarkable bruises.  Something about one looking like a map of Russia.

Marv reported on the men’s room saying the walls of four-inch white tile were covered with posters from Bud and Miller listing specials at Casey’s and Packer schedules.  The Miller “Thank a Vet” campaign poster asking patrons to “Donate bottle caps here” was hanging above the urinal.  However, Marv saw no caps in the bottom of the urinal.  His guess is they were recently collected.

Casey’s has three TVs—one was showing a rerun of “The Big Bang Theory”—a favorite show of mine.  On our trail rides, we look for vending machines and game machines that were found in bars in the 70s and earlier, but except for an occasional pinball machine, most old machines have been

Elaine Pointing Out Casey's Logo on Glass

replaced with electronic machines.  Casey’s has four of these and a dart machine.  But Casey’s has an old cigarette vending machine—pull handles and all.  No cigarette packs are inside.  The machine is there to prevent people from hitting their heads on a shelf above that holds an old picture tube TV.  But I remember when every bar, restaurant, etc. had a cigarette machine.  We never bought our cigarettes from them as the packs of cigarettes were too expensive in the machine.  Maybe as much as 35 cents.  Cheaper to buy a carton for $2.75.

As we were swallowing the last of our beer, Lee was pulling out chairs at the green felt-covered poker table.  Guess there was going to be a little action there that night.  We, however, were headed downtown for supper at Joey’s.