Flashback Friday

New Years Eve was never a biggie for me.  Somehow the "having" to do something fun rather than the usual evolution of it seemed unnatural.  I preferred the spontaneous to the forced.  But still, one does what Romans do when in Rome, I suppose.  In the following case, it is what Keithsburgers do when at Blackie's.  You wouldn't know it by driving through it today but when I was in college Keithsburg was a rollicking little town with three bars going give or take.  There was the Lighthouse down by the river, Press's and then right across the street from that one was Blackie's, or the HiWay Tap.  

That's where I spent my formative years.  It had a grill, Lotto tickets, pinball machines, a pool table and cold beer.  On Sundays in the summer Blackie would treat everyone to finger food (some kind of fish).  And when you are legal, again, give or take, it was a fun place to hang out.    

New Year's Eve at Blackie's was as festive as any place around.  This is my buddy Karl Pfannebecker, a former Peoria resident, who, by the way, worked at Keystone Steel and Wire, and lived down along the river South of Keithsburg in one of those residential outgrowths. 

  

This is Blackie Bushong, owner, cook, purveyor of alcoholic beverages, quipster and general all-around barkeep.   His first name, and most were not aware at the time, was Julius, which made some other nickname mandatory. 

As I have mentioned many times in this blog, Blackie was not given to extending free beers to his patrons very often, nor was Helen his wife and other co-Boss of the place.  It is why it was surprising that when I'd stop in for a coffee when heading to Denver in my car to return to grad school he'd always walk over and get me a carton of my favorite cigarettes.  It was a thoughtful thing to do.     

This is Yvonne and Chick Olson.  They usually had semi-reserved seats at the bar but on this night, they had a booth.  Chick and Yvonne were Dave Olson's aunt and uncle.  Dave was one of the partiers at the Wombie's retirement bash featured last Monday.  He's the one talking to Phil.  

    

This is Karl's wife, Betty Pfannebacker, who seems a little ticked  at all the photography going on.  As you can see in this picture, she is helping to put paper on the pool table so that the food can be placed safely on the pool table.  

I have blocked out the eyes to protect the identity of the individual getting the joint New Year's squeeze from Betty and Jerri Nylin.  You'll never guess in a hundred years. 

Dave Olson said something at Mark's party about how going to the bars back in the day was an all night thing.  You would arrive at your favorite place after cleaning up from work and stay most of the evening.  You knew the other patrons and it was an enjoyable way to spend your night.  Nowadays, Dave said,  folks have a a few beers then move on, neither getting "established" at a place or staying long enough to "feel at home".  There are probably societal reasons for that, and I'm no expert, but perhaps the stronger DUI laws, the loss of neighborhood bars like Blackies, and increased prices play a role in all that.  

Blackies no longer exists.  It was sold to others, most recently to someone who changed the name to Tweety's.  When I was last in there a few years back, with Tim while riding the cycles, the interior had been changed, and no longer had the old feel of fun and fraternity.  It closed for good last year.  

Jerri was the first to pass away of the group, followed one by one all the rest.  The only one remaining is the mop-haired kid who got a squeeze from two friends at a New Year's Eve long ago.  We mark our days and welcome new years.  Someone once wrote that the gift of friendship is the greatest gift of all.  If lucky, we keep our friends a good long while.