Molly Each

There is no eye-catching sign, no colorful board boasting nightly specials and no trendy outside decor. In fact, if it weren't for the neon Old Style and Schlitz logos in the dimly lit windows, you would never notice the tiny bar on the corner of Chicago and California. But it has been there, owned and operated by the same family for almost a hundred years. There isn't even a name outside--possibly because it is still up for debate.

"Well, when I'm working people call it `The Pizza Lounge' but when Chris is working they call it `The Hiawatha Bar,'" says Arlene, the petite, grandmotherly woman who greets every customer like a regular. Arlene and her "old man" Chris, the bartenders and owners, have been together forty years, and are the eyes, ears, heart and soul of not only the bar, but the neighborhood around it.

It seems like the kind of place you would find off of a rural Wisconsin highway--a rickety door, year-round Christmas lights, a few small tables, a collage of photos behind the bar, Old Granddad whiskey, a $3 beer and Beam special, animal skulls on the wall (Chris is an avid hunter), and the most eclectic jukebox that has ever existed: Prince, The Beatles, Backstreet Boys, Johnny Cash, Monster Mania (songs from all the Godzilla movies), Nina Simone, 28 Irish Pub Songs and a group called Betty Tetzlaff and the Spears family, whose CD cover is of a rather homely looking clan from the 1970s.

Leaning against the back of the bar, between a handwritten sign declaring that there is no change without purchase and a button that reads, "Oh shit, you're not going to talk to me are you?" a large black-and-white photograph stands out.

"This was taken in 1939. That's my dad behind the bar," says Chris, a white-haired guy with playful eyes, pointing to a strong-looking man in a dress shirt and tie. Chris dives into the history of the bar, beginning when his grandfather bought it in the early 1900s. Officially named "The Hiawatha Bar," after the old train line that ran close by, it closed for six years due to prohibition, and reopened in 1933. Chris has been a part of this bar for so long he remembers when the iceman used to deliver ice via horse and buggy. Yet there is no plaque outside, no certificate behind the bar to mark this establishment as the time capsule it is.

Because while the Hiawatha Bar/Pizza Lounge has evolved with time, it hasn't moved too far. Soda is dispensed from cans, not a spray gun. There are no beer taps or ice machines. There is only one television, the pinball machine is an Addams Family edition, and the yellow wooden booths look as though they are from a 1960s bowling alley. Though in the 1970s Arlene used to cook up a full menu that included burgers, Italian sausages and pizza (hence the name "Pizza Lounge"), now the only food available is a rack of potato chips hanging behind the bar. Conveniently, they are attached to BYO spot Feed, and according to Arlene, "we accommodate each other." Customers can bring their drinks into the restaurant if hunger strikes, and Feed's employees are always popping in with information on their dessert selection.

Arlene brings out a stack of photo albums and places them on the bar. Beginning with the oldest, she flips through pages of Halloween parties, the annual Christmas venison feast (Arlene cooks it all herself), late nights at the bar and family photos. She studies each face fondly, recalling names, occupations and anecdotes. As the pages turn the faces age, the fashions evolve, and the energy of the bar changes. It's an illustrated history of Chicago, and Chris and Arlene have been at the center of it, providing a cozy, welcoming place where everyone feels like an old friend.

Two men enter the bar, one who Chris has known for thirty years, and the other for ten. They exchange stories about the way the neighborhood has changed, reminisce about major moments in Chicago history, remember the streetcar that used to run in front of the place. As Chris refills their drinks, one of the men speaks loudly. "Chris is the best, man. If I'm going to school, I want him to school me, you know what I mean?" That must be the ultimate compliment.

The Hiawatha Bar/Pizza Lounge, 2801 West Chicago Avenue, (773)862-2834, is open every day at 11am except Sunday.

(2006-03-28)

Also by Molly Each

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