by Robert Fischer
Going to taverns and saloons is sort of a family tradition. Actually, outside of the South, it’s an American tradition. Even a cursory reading of American history reveals that taverns have always played a significant role in politics as well as in our social lives. I miss it.
My father was a devoted fan of taverns. He always met his friends there, and having a beer was part of his German-American upbringing. My excuse is that he frequently took me with him, and I, too, took to the “tavern culture.”
Though he visited lots of taverns, his favorite was Moes’s, close to Dubuque, Iowa, and not far from our home. Julien “Judy” Moes was my godfather and ran a small grocery with a tavern in the back where locals gathered. Located in a small crossroads community called Rockdale, it was right on Catfish Creek just before it dumps into the Mississippi River.
My earliest recollection of Moes’s Tavern with my dad was meeting Jess Whitaker, an old one-legged fellow who presided at the bar. He was a raccoon hunter and a former bootlegger during Prohibition. Coon hunting was a favorite sport of locals, including my father. Old Jess was only one of the characters who hung out there.
Another favorite sport was playing euchre, a fast slap ‘em down card game. At Moes’s, it also involved quaffing beers, and my father was quite good at both. There was a room in the back where the men gathered to smoke their cigars and play cards. Losers bought the beers.
The point, I guess, is that the tavern was a place that you took the family. Everyone was sort of family, and you met interesting people there. I miss that!
*This post is for my brother-in-law, a Republican, who has found most of the political stuff too negative. He wanted something “positive,” and I know he enjoys bars!