Bars don't tend to grow old gracefully; most come and go within five years or so. It's notable when a bar has a bit more staying power and reaches elder status.
Chattanooga has several longtime bars, and each tells a story about the city and its people. Each has its own cultural identity, yet each is distinctly Chattanooga. I made it my mission to find out what made these venues not just bars but Chattanooga institutions.
The Big Chill
It might seem ironic to include The Big Chill in my list of Chattanooga's oldest bars, since its current location in North Chattanooga is brand new. And 1997, the year the Chill opened on Market Street, doesn't seem all that long ago either.
But its new location-"The Bigger Chill," as my friend Tony refers to it is indeed larger, and slightly more chill. On Tuesday night, which also happens to be karaoke night, most of the tables are filled, but it's not overly crowded. Known for its frozen daiqui- ris, the Chill draws a mixed crowd ranging from frat boys to young professionals to older patrons, from black and white to athletes and geeks.
"We get a real potpourri of people, and they've followed us over here," says owner Scarlett "Scottie" Bowman.
The Big Chill has always had good food, and they serve late (the kitchen is open until 2:30 a.m.
every day). Banning indoor smoking at the new location makes the food seem a bit more appetizing, and Scottie confirms they have been selling a lot more of it since the move.
I had the B.A.T., a new sandwich added to the menu at the time of the move that is now one of the bar's top sellers. It's topped with bacon, alfalfa sprouts and fried green tomatoes, and is especially delicious when washed down with a Bushwacker, a drink similar to a chocolate pin~a colada.
Scottie says the consistency of the food, as well as the service from her many long-term employees, are the keys to the bar's success.
"A lot of places only stick around three to five years," she says. "I put my heart and soul in it, and I've never stepped back. I hope we have another 20 years in us because that's how long our lease is."
Bud's Sports Bar
I had never been to Bud's Sports Bar, mainly because I'm not a fan of sports. But that doesn't really matter, because there is more to Bud's than its 80-something TVs. It's the type of place where you feel like you can be yourself, and you feel welcome even if your name isn't on one of the plaques nailed under the bar. On a Wednesday night, the place is packed. There are all types of people, from guys who obviously just stepped off the golf course to guys who clearly just stepped off a Harley.
"It's a great mix of people, the service is very good and the price is fantastic," says regular Hugh Cunningham.
Owner Andy Dillon strolls around the bar in a seersuck- er suit, patting patrons on the back and stopping to say hello. Andy became a dish- washer at Bud's in August 1978, saving money over the years and eventually buying the owners out. Now he's treated like a celebrity when he enters the room.
He says he's watched his customers grow up, from around age 25 to 30 when he first bought the bar to 50 to 60 years old now. And he's now serving the grandchildren of his original patrons.
Bud's typically gets around 200 "suits" at lunch, he says, and a good happy hour crowd in the 40- to 60-year-old range.
"At night, we have more of a partying crowd," he says. "The later the night, the younger the crowd."
Located on Lee Highway for 28 years, Bud's has been at its current Brainerd Road spot-an English Tudor- style building that was an old Steak and Ale for eight years. And at 4,000 square feet, the new place is twice as big as the old. The bar has had 25 to 30 different logos over the years, and I see a few of them on patrons' old T-shirts. To keep up with the sports theme, the waitresses wear referee outfits; many have worked at Bud's for 20 years or more like Kathy Kimbrough.
"He takes care of his people," she says of Andy. "I've never been to a restaurant with so many longtime employees."
If you go to Bud's, you've pretty much got to order wings-the bar sells more than two tons of them a month. I wash mine down with a Bud Light.
And, if you want to hear live music-it was acoustic country when I went-you can sit in the
smoking room, but there's also a large non-smoking area with a separate bar for those who don't like their rooms to be cloudy.
Mayo's
Mayo's is a true family establishment and, along with Bud's, is one of the few remaining bars on Brainerd Road that isn't a chain.
When the bar first opened in 1987, there were at least five bars between Mayo's and Brainerd Road tunnels through Missionary Ridge, owner Rick Mayo says. "Most people stayed away from downtown then, especially at night," says Rick.
On a Saturday night visit around 10:30, I'm greeted by Rick, who says the live music has just wrapped up and they are starting karaoke. His sister is running the karaoke show for the night, and Rick says she's the best karaoke singer he has ever heard. Both Rick and his sister sing several songs, Rick offering a lovely rendition of "Easy" by the Commodores and dedicating it "to the lovers in the room."
It's clear that everyone in the bar knows one another, but they are very friendly to newcomers. And they treat Rick like the old, respected patriarch of the family. Which he pretty much is. A picture of his father, Pat, who started the bar with his wife, Sara, hangs to the left of the bar. Pat passed away a few years ago, but Sara's still involved in the operation of the bar.
Mayo's is a classic that hasn't seen many updates over the years, but that's part of what makes it feel so comfortable there. When they ran Mayo's together, Pat and Sara were very much into the local dart leagues and one entire wall of the bar is dedicated to dart boards; pictures of tournament winners from years past line the yellow walls.
Regular Miranda Smith says she comes back to see the Mayo family.
"They're very interactivevwith their customers," she says. "I've met people from all over the world in here. I like the diversity that brings." Mayo's is filled with regulars every day around 4 p.m., and "at night it turns into more of a bar," says Rick. "When we first opened, we were kind of like a 'Cheers'-type place. A lot of friends and locals came every day."
There's no liquor at Mayo's, so I have a couple of Coors, play some darts and run into some people I knew from high school.
Alan Gold's
I don't want to miss the 12:30 a.m. drag show at Alan Gold's, so I head that way. Alan Gold's has long been known as the place to go in Chattanooga when you want to dance. On a recent Saturday night it is pretty crowded, but not as packed as I remember it to be about 10 years ago.
Alan Gold first opened the bar in September 1977 on Patten Parkway in the Honest Pint's current location, then moved into an old Yellow Deli on McCallie Avenue in 1983 (the year I was born). The wooden accents and odd angles of the place give it the feel of a pirate ship's interior. Like all the Yellow Delis I've been to, it has stained- glass windows and a spiral staircase.
Current dance hits and songs like Mariah Carey's "Fantasy" play as various men take turns dancing solo in drag as everyone else cheers and dances around them. The crowd is really a mixed bag of people-you'll find lots of straight men with their wives or unattached men trolling for straight women, because in Chattanooga (and perhaps elsewhere) gay bars seem to be a great place to meet straight people.
"Everybody and anybody comes here. They accept a variety of people," says owner Gary Smith (not his real last name, and don't try to contact him), who took over the bar in 1989 when Gold moved to Florida. No, they don't keep in touch.
Regular Jonathan Burke says he likes that the bar never has a boring crowd. "You never know who's going to walk in the door," he says. "It's almost a tourist trap."
In addition to the main dance floor with upper and lower levels and a wrap- around bar, there's also a separate bar that appears to have something of a country western theme, judging from the neon cactus on the wall. It has a pool table and there's more opportunity for interesting conversations away from the noise of the dance floor.
CBC
I take in Chattanooga Billiard Club, CBC, on a Wednesday night. Long-time iconic bartender Tommy Stanley is working; he's been there for decades. I sit at the upstairs bar and watch him single-handedly serve about 35 people.
"He's the best bartender this side of the Mississippi," says CBC regular Jamie Connor as he takes a sip of beer. "They also have the best honey mustard on the entire planet."
I order a Blue Moon on draft and some chicken fingers with that delectable honey mustard. The ham- burgers are pretty good, too (CBC grinds its own meat). I play some songs on the jukebox ("Wicked Games" by Chris Issak and "Let's Dance" by David Bowie), which has pretty much anything you could possibly want.
I remember when CBC was a real dive bar, when the bathrooms were super tiny and the bar upstairs was horseshoe shaped. Everyone would meet there on holidays when we came back from college.
When they made improvements to the bar a few years back, it lost a bit of its gritty charm. High wooden bar tables replaced (most of) the folding tables of old. The first floor was converted into a branded Avo Lounge, named for the cigar celebrity and jazz piano player Avo Uvezian. In recent years CBC has become the place to go for the discriminating cigar smoker with the addition of Burn's Tobacconist in the old Shapiro's Deli building next door.
In November 2013, the bar also opened a private Davidoff smoking lounge on the third floor that is open only to members. The exclusive members-only club contains leather chairs for lounging and several big-screen TVs, plus a humidified locker for each member and a banquet room available for rent. Currently the lounge has 93 members, and owner Phil Windham says they plan to cut off membership when they have 125-150.
So it makes sense that CBC is probably one of the smokiest bars around. It's got quite a few loyal regulars- Phil says a good 300 to 400 people would have nowhere to go if the bar suddenly closed.
"It's all about the atmosphere," says CBC patron Kate Burkhalter, praising the bar's wide open spaces and selection of beers on tap, as well as the fact that it allows smoking inside. "There's a historic feel to it, reminiscent of pubs in Germany. It speaks to a culture that doesn't happen often in the South."
Phil says the bar's younger patrons typically order lots of shooters, with Jagermeister being the most popular. No matter what you order, be assured that Tommy will re- member your drink the next time you come in, says Phil.
Here's a tip: for the best service in town, pop into CBC when Tommy's on duty Wednesday through Saturday after 6 p.m.
Walt's Karaoke Cafe
Walt's Karaoke Cafe, formerly called Walt's Fireside Lounge-there's now a speaker in the fireplace, for karaoke-is much bigger than it looks from the outside. There are black-and-white checkered floors and wooden booths with cushions in primary colors covered in plastic. It kind of reminds me of an old skating rink or bowling alley.
CDs attached to the wall glitter around the karaoke stage and dance floor, which includes a stripper's pole. I get a beer and some of Walt's award-winning wings. The spicy honey barbecue sauce is delicious.
"We've won every contest we've ever been in. I've had people drive down from Knoxville to get my wings," says owner Walt Marler, who worked in radio and TV for 40 years before opening the bar with his wife Jeannie in 1994. Walt's was originally on Brainerd Road across from Mayo's on the hill, but moved to Bonny Oaks a few years later.
"It's a really comfortable place to come by once a week after work," says regular Juan Calderon.
Go on a Saturday night if you want the true Walt's experience. On a typical Saturday, around six people celebrate birthdays at the bar. Jeannie makes at least two cakes a day every Friday and Saturday, and the club puts up birthday banners on the weekends.
Walt is very proud of his lighting and sound systems, and karaoke is the main reason, aside from the wings, that people come to Walt's. Most sing country tunes, with a little bit of rock'n'roll thrown in.
"If we don't have it, it's not worth singing," says Jeannie.
Walt has held karaoke competitions with prizes upwards of $10,000. "We're just a friendly big neighborhood bar, and we have more music than anywhere else," says Walt.
Pickle Barrel
I've probably been to Pickle
Barrel more than any of Chattanooga's oldest bars. I love the building and sitting in the corner booth where it makes a triangle. I love looking at all the old graffiti, and I love the burgers and the way (some of ) the waiters give me that extra little bit of martini on the side that wouldn't fit in the glass. I love sitting out on the patio on a sunny day or squishing into a cozy booth when it's cold out.
Like Alan Gold's, it's a former Yellow Deli and has a bit of that same wooden pirate-ship feel, along with stained-glass windows and a spiral staircase. Originally built in 1890, Pickle Barrel added another bar on the second floor last summer as well as a new outdoor deck. A reality show that focuses on bars that need saving recently filmed there, as evidenced by a few more random knick-knacks on the walls and new chairs.
I'm not sure why they felt the Pickle Barrel needed saving, and I'm assuming the revamping involved more than just knick-knacks and chairs, but owner Ben Bowers said he's not allowed to discuss the show's name or what they did until it airs later this year. The bar's soon-to-be released new menu was also a result of the reality show.
Along with selling more Pabst Blue Ribbon and Miller High Life by the bottle than any other bar in Chattanooga, Pickle Barrel also sells quite a few Orange Bombs, an accurately named concoction of orange vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice and Red Bull.
If you want to eat, get a Reuben; the corned beef is made in-house, and Ben says they use his great-grand- mother's recipe for kraut, fol- lowing the Farmer's Almanac as to when it can be made. Warning: You're pretty much required to smoke while you eat if you sit inside.
The most important lesson I learned from my adventures in Chattanooga's oldest bars is that people are creatures of habit, especially me. I tend to frequent the same places, meet the same people and order the same things. The reason these bars have survived is that people have made them a part of their routines or their lives. Loyal patrons are the hallmark of any good bar and, as shown by these bars' history, no matter where they move or what changes they make, their patrons will follow, maintaining their stature as Chattanooga institutions.