May 30, 2007
Memorial Day Tradition and Party Recap
To understand the Memorial Day tradition in my family I have to give you a little back story. I apologize for the length of this post.
My father bought a tavern in 1984. Called The Big One, it was a predominant biker bar. Dad named it Jurgella’s Bar when he went into business and several years later renamed it to Frank & Ernie’s when he added a kitchen to the premises so that he could serve burgers and fish fries.
The clientele of Frank & Ernie’s was one of the most diverse than any other bar in the city. The most loyal crowd was the afternoon regulars who stopped for a beer after work, such as “The Journal Boys” because they worked for the Stevens Point Journal and “The Portesi Guys” who worked for Portesi Pizza.
The second group was “The Construction Guys”. These men were heavy drinkers, often potsmokers, and hard partiers.
Always the bartender’s worst nightmare (I speak from experience), these guys would order many shots of Jack Daniels, Tequila and Jagermeister and proceed to throw their plastic shot glasses over their shoulders after drinking their poison. Often loud, rowdy and obnoxious, they also spent most of their hard-earned paychecks in the tavern and never listened to reason.
In the late 80’s and early 90s my father hired several college kids as bartenders and Frank & Ernie’s became a popular hangout for the college set. We had a drink that no other bar offered, called the Chucklehead, created by a barteneder who’s nickname was none other than Chucklehead.
This secret recipe has been handed down from bartender to bartender and to this day, college kids at UWSP flock to the tavern in groups to drink this concoction of 13 popular shots. (You won’t see the recipe on this blog. You’ll just have to fly in to Stevens Point to experience it yourself. Many bartenders have changed the recipe, but the original is hanging on the wall in my parents’ basement.)
Frank & Ernie’s also had the lingering crew of bikers who stopped in for a drink during their Sunday rides, as well as many customers who lived in the neighborhood that loved the Ernie Burger and the company of my witty father. I have memories of the tavern, most of them fond, some of them awful. It brings a smile to my face, even now, to think back on all the years at F & E’s.
In 1992, my father began hosting a party every Memorial Day at Iverson Park. He would invite his most loyal customers, friends and family members to celebrate the holiday with us. My dad would supply half-barrels of beer, burgers and brats and each guest would chip in $10 or bring a dish to pass.
Iverson Park had a public pavillion located close to the bathrooms, the public beach, the baseball diamond, the playground, and it was right next to the volleyball court.
Many times I had to sit at this pavillion at the ass-crack of dawn to hold it until my dad could get there with all the party supplies. There was no way to reserve the place because it was an open shell and claimed on a first come basis.
Frank & Ernie’s volleyball matches were the best part. Each team had nearly 12 people on it and the games never had any rules. Combine this with drunk players and good times were had all around.
Of course many people invited themselves to this party each year and I cannot begin to tell you about every drama I witnessed. My father always told me to pretend I knew nothing even if I knew everything about any given “soap opera” situation. But as a nosy teenager, I loved the gossip. Can you blame me?
I smiled and laughed at Schelke’s drunken rambling about Sally the Salamander, his classroom pet in elementary school.
I pretended I didn’t know that Suzie broke up with Billy but now she’s dating Tommy, and Tommy just had a baby with ex-girlfriend Denise, and Denise gave the baby up for adoption, and now she’ll be at the party, so now we have to keep Suzie and Denise away from each other, because last year, Denise threw a can of beer at Suzie and threatened to kill her. As the Barstool Turns, anyone?
I ignored the fact that Jeff was a pothead who smoked his doobies in the woods behind the bathroom.
I laughed off the numerous times that Dave and Tom hit on me when my dad wasn’t around.
I didn’t acknowledge the many times Jay and Mike acted like complete assholes to anyone around them.
I just looked away when Bob and Sherry had one of their many marital arguments.
I tried to ignore when Dave and Kim fought about which girl Dave was hitting on when she wasn’t looking. (Yep. Same Dave that hit on me.)
I didn’t say a word when Kerry and Wade were doing drugs in the bathroom.
I didn’t confront these people. It wasn’t my place.
There were things you couldn’t stop even if you tried. I always pulled Dad aside and let him know what was up. And Dad always knew about these things anyway. He always took care of them. He was a man to be feared if he found out you were doing something wrong or illegal.
In many ways, my Dad was like a father to his customers. I remember how they looked up to him. Dad was the first person they came to for advice and help. They respected him and listened to him most of the time. They listened as my father spoke of the meaning of Memorial Day and the freedom so many soldiers and veterans fought for; the very freedom we have today.
Even with all the drama, I couldn’t undersand why my dad bothered hosting these parties. He always made sure his guests had a designated driver (often, that was me). If someone couldn’t afford to chip in he’d let them eat and drink for free.
I realized this was Dad’s way of showing his appreciation to his customers. When you think about it, these people put food on our table. They helped pay for my dental work. They were my father’s livelihood.
After a tragic accident in 1998, my dad stopped having the parties at Iverson. Two of “The Construction Guys” got into an awful drunk driving accident that killed three people. They had been drinking at another bar when they were out of town on a construction job and decided to drive home at bar close.
My father was so angry. He tried many times to get these men to quit drinking and straighten their acts. He helped these two, so many times.
I often wondered why he tried to teach these guys to be smarter and wiser. I also wondered when my dad finally realized some people are two far gone to save. After many attempts to offer advice and support he just stopped worrying about it. He stopped feeling responsible for what “might happen” and decided to let these two make their own mistakes and hopefully learn a valuable lesson. He cared about these people, but he knew it wasn’t his job to babysit them.
The horrible incident really affected my father and he was angry at Jay and Kerry for being so irresponsible. He was angry that three people died because of their stupidity.
I think it still affects him today. And Jay and Kerry never did learn. Kerry died of drug overdose last year and Jay is back in jail for probation violation (Possession of marijuana. No kidding!).
My father doesn’t associate with anyone from that group anymore. He washed his hands of them. He gave up trying to be a role model to people who take no responsibility for their actions.
When my dad decided to retire from the the bar business, he didn’t sell the tavern. Instead he leased it to a woman who ran a bar that was torn down when the property was bought by a neighboring car dealership for expansion.
He built a home bar in his basement and decided to start having a Memorial Day party at his house. Only this time, he’d invite the people he was closest to.
This year was the first year things got a little crazy.
A few people heard my dad was having a party and invited themselves because they obviously thought this was like the Memorial Days of the past. Chip in $10 and you can eat and drink all you want.
My poor mother was upset about this. She found out that one of the invited guests told the freeloaders about the party and mentioned stopping by.
This guest also brought a crack whore to the party. A party with several children present. Apparently, this drug addicted woman was his girlfriend and she could barely stand on her feet. And the guy who brought her? Drunk before he even arrived at my parents’ house.
All of this did not sit well with Dish. Dish is a former employee of my dad’s and she’s very close to our family. She’s like an older sister to me. A bit of a drama queen, she’s also the funniest woman I know.
Dish went off the handle about the crack whore and we found out (through the grapevine of the other freeloaders in attendance) that this woman’s brother Todd was the son-in-law of one of my Dad’s closest friends, but Todd died a few months ago from an aneurism and allegedly he was a heavy drinker and pot smoker.
Then my mother, true to her Catholic ways, tried to say we can’t prove it and that we should just pretend we don’t know anything and “turn the other cheek”.
“We don’t know for sure. She might just have the hiccups.” she said.
I couldn’t stop laughing. That just “cracked” me up. Staggering around like a homeless wino = Maybe she just has the hiccups.
My brother was a bit drunk at the party and started telling semi-naughty jokes to an eight-year-old. I’m certain little Adam will be called to the principal’s office today for telling a joke about Santa’s balls.
Around the fire pit, my father tried to teach us a repeating game. The rules of the game were to imitate the facial expressions and movements of the leader; basically mimic what the leader did. I think it was an adult version of Follow the Leader.
After every facial expression my dad would cross his legs and the players who didn’t cross their legs after copying the facial expression would be out. You can imagine the angry players who couldn’t figure out what they were doing wrong. It was quite funny.
Aside from the hiccupping crack whore and the party crashers, I had a good time.
Next year, I’m going to host a party like the celebrities. Send the invitation stating the guests must be prepared for a phone call the day of the party telling them where it’s at. It might prevent univitied guests, don’t you think?
Posted by Dana @ 7:25 am • Uncategorized
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May 30th, 2007 at 8:13 am, Cheryl Says:
Uninvited guests are a pain. I definitely approve of informing the guests the day of the party… but Dana… how many different places can you host a party like that in SP? I got a giggle about the hiccups.
May 30th, 2007 at 12:39 pm, Dana Says:
I know…but seriously…there’s got a be a way to do this without tipping off the freeloaders!
May 30th, 2007 at 11:34 pm, Leslie Says:
Gosh, what a bunch of characters! You could write a book about the people from the tavern.
Sounds like quite a Memorial Day!
May 31st, 2007 at 7:51 am, dana Says:
It would be one funny, drunken book, wouldn’t it?