Julius' Bar
Now that Dick's bar has become the fratty 12th Street Ale House, where can you go for a gay dive-bar experience? The answer is Julius' bar on 10th and Waverly. In fact, go there for the vintage-bar experience, because Julius' is one of the oldest, unchanged bars in town.
No one seems to know when exactly it opened, but the best guess is 1867 -- the same year that the Jacob Ruppert Brewery opened in Yorkville, on the Upper East Side. Julius' tables, chairs, and bar are made from the brewery's wooden barrels and they're stamped "Jacob Ruppert." (The brewery was replaced by Ruppert Towers, an example of architectural "brutalism.") The footrail at Julius' bar is a string of beagles standing nose to tail and cast in brass. "We think the original owner liked beagles," the bartender told me. (Though the breed is debatable--some say those dogs are Bassett hounds).
One wall is covered with framed photographs of the once-famous. None of them were recognizable to me. They are slick-haired men and women in furs, a few naked burly-Q girls, a couple of boxers. The bar may have come out of the Civil War and gone through days as a speakeasy, but the feeling you get is very 1950s. On another wall, Walter Winchell tells you why he loves Julius' and Eddie Condon poses with '50s burlesque queen Lois DeFee.
There is little in Julius' that marks it as a gay men's bar. A softball trophy reads, "It's not easy being the queen," and the straw I got in my mug of Coke happened to be pink. If you go on a weekday morning (Julius' opens at 11:00), you'll encounter a few regulars, older men in Yankees caps who sit and talk about the weather. In the evenings, it's livelier and gayer, but no less gray. The kitchen, a grill in the corner, is cooking delicious burgers and fries, and the TV is tuned to Jeopardy.
Unlike other old bars, like McSorley's, Corner Bistro, and Chumley's, where you can only go during the day because the nights have been overtaken by frat boys, tourists, and girls with pointy shoes, Julius' has stayed authentic. I am sure that's due to the gay factor, which protects Julius' as one of New York's best-kept secrets. The patrons will not tolerate idiotic, yuppie behavior. These guys went through Stonewall -- they are not afraid to kick some hetero ass.
The bar is quiet enough and friendly enough that, if you're chatty, you can have fantastic conversations with men who knew the Village way back when. And who knows how long this will last? Julius' has survived building collapse and seizures, and the landlord seems to support the bar. Said the bartender, "As long as the owner of the building stays alive, Julius' will stay alive." He figures at least another decade.
Some of the photos on the walls there of the famous guys you can find in a really great book called The Eddie Condon Scrapbook of Jazz, by Eddie and Hank O'Neal. When they were putting the book together, Eddie said, "Let's go over to Julius, they'll have some pictures we should use." Because back in the 1940s, Julius’s was a favorite place of the jazzmen who were playing at Nick's in the Village on 7th Ave and 10th Street, they'd go to Julius on their breaks because the drinks were cheaper than at the bar at Nick's So a lot of their pictures ended up on the walls.
ReplyDeleteThose hounds ain't beagles! By their long bodies and short legs, they look morelike bassett hounds.
ReplyDeleteThe bar rail: they are definitely Bassets. I remember those wonderful dogs well. The stories they could tell. It was 1963 when I discovered Julius after some abortive visits to a few of the gayer, more frightening, very dimly lit bars, including the one with a spotlit plaster statue of David sans fig leaf. Weekends away from college in Cambridge were only worthwhile by visiting Julius, where one could rub elbows with sweet hearts and great minds like Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, and later on, Malcolm Forbes. There was cold beer, gin tonic, and those wonderful beefy burgers.
ReplyDeleteFilled with a thirst for nostalgia, a visit a few years ago disappointed. Fey hookers, older men drinking too much, and the burgers were not at all what I remember. I guess I've changed as well.
truman and tennessee? do tell. we want to hear more. and, yes, the old fellas do drink too much. it's a real alkie bar, which can lead to some interesting conversations. also, i'll buy the basset diagnosis...
ReplyDeletethanks romy! someone should make a project out of going in there and identifying everyone on that wall of faded fame.
ReplyDeleteI dropped in there now and again during my AIDS activist days; sadly, I had to give it up. All my friends died and I couldn't take it any more. It was a fun bar, particularly when we all ran out of money. Given the work that we were doing--and some of the cute boys we were doing it with--we could almost always cadge a drink or two.
ReplyDeletefrom "American Big Bands Database":
ReplyDeleteIn 1945, Condon and Pete Pesci - manager of Julius's Bar - came up with a plan to open a jointly owned Club and this became the first "Eddie Condon's" (on West 3rd Street - Greenwich Village area).
No surprise that's now an NYU building. I think I would have liked it better at Condon's, where the motto was: "We don't throw anyone in, and we don't throw anyone out."
Thank you Barbara; for reminding me. I so well remember those days.when we were careless, silly, and horny. I was around when the boys were creating GMHC, and as one by one, they fell prey to AIDS. For me, going back to past places causes me pain, but also keeps alive my anger and determination.
ReplyDeletePlease don't ever lose those memories, the images of their faces, their names, and the fun you had together. As long as we remember it will live. As long as we tell the true story, never allowing them to forget, we're solid. Those who write history will never include the important things. You can be sure they will include facts, statistics, cold and heartless, but you will--you must remember the blood and guts of that fight, and how much Life meant to us then and I hope now too.
To tell you the truth, I've been uneasy about returning, afraid almost, because I'll be looking for the faces and the sounds I know now only exist in a ghostly world. Hers'a a hug for old time's sake. Keep loving.
- Michael
It's my favorite bar in New York. They decorate it for every holiday. There's a terrific, diva-heavy jukebox (Liza, Barbra, Judy, Madonna, Cher--all the big ones). On New Year's Eve, they served an impromptu breakfast at 2 a.m. (biscuits and gravy, bacon, eggs, etc.). It was heaven! They've just signed a two-year lease, so it's not going anywhere. Julius' is the last of its breed in the West Village. It is New York history.
ReplyDeleteThanks to the posts here, I made a visit to Julius' last week. It was around six o'clock, and the bar was comfortably populated with just the sort of quiet, pleasant guys at the bar I'd hoped for. I got lost on a reverie of past times, people, and the me I was so long ago. The bartender interrupted by sternly asking, "Can I help you?" indicating I was not welcome to just stand there. I began to explain, but instead just left a fiver on the bar and eased on down the road, happy to know there was still a Julius. What ever. I knew I'd go back when I had the time for a beer and a sit me down.
ReplyDeletethe dog depicted in the bar rail is the original "julius". The original owner named the place after his bassett hound.
ReplyDeleteI used to hang there in the late afternoons in the early 1980's... To have a burger and a beer after a day of auditioning... Used to be a major place to meet up with friends before moving on and making the rounds to Ninth Circle, Uncle Charlies, and more and etc...
ReplyDeleteYour post reminds me, I should drop by for old time's sake!!
I go back to the early 1960's when it was a straight bar, full of artists like myself. After a day of working in my studio around the corner, I would have dinner, which was always a burger cooked by a big German-American guy have a beer and talk with my artist buddies. What I remember most is the stuff hanging from the ceiling. Who knows what it was.Probably years of dirt! I miss the old place. I grew up there.
ReplyDeleteIt kind of broke my heart when I went back years ago to see that ceiling cleaned of all that wonderful moss, or whatever it was, and please don't tell me.
ReplyDeleteGreat photos of my favorite GV bar. Was just sent the link to this post by a friend. The burgers are still some of the best to be found! And a great bunch of folks there as well. Love it!
ReplyDelete