Kennedy's Bar and Grill (also known as "the bar that smells like poo") is no more. Mabel was on the scene this morning to capture these pics.
Hundreds gathered in the heart of Waldo to gawk and say things like "I just can't believe it" and "That was a good bar." And it was a good bar, even if it did smell like poo.
Several nearby buildings were also destroyed, though 75th Street Brewery appears to have survived. Which is good because according to a rotund lady in a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, "If the fire gets to them tanks of beer ... God help us all."
Unfortunately several firefighters were injured, and there's nothing funny about that. Anydoodle, feel free to submit your favorite Kennedy's moments.
4 comments:
I love Mabel's prolific days...
Ah, Kennedy's. Can't say I spent a majority of my time there, seeing as Bobby Baker's was just a few storefronts away, but a fine establishment nonetheless.
As for favorite stories, I happen to have hoisted a relic from the walls back in the early salad days of 2003. It's a promotional tin Chiefs/Bud Light sign and I believe Snakin helped me with the theft. I had just hosted a National Championship party at my St. Regis apartment and we relocated to Kennedy's for some later debauchery. After stealing the sign, I climbed into the backseat with a large-chested friend of the ladyfriend. While that initially didn't go over too well, they were impressed with the booty I had come away with.
What was unfortunately overlooked in most stories about the fire was the little clothing shop (not the bridal one) that burned down. I think it was called "frankly basic"
It was all girls' clothes, but it was a cool store. I went in there with my girlfriend and because the people working there saw that I was a little uncomfortable in an all-girls store they told me there was a really comfortable couch I could sit on. So I sat on it, and it really was comfortable. But now it is burnt up I guess.
I very distinctly remember a night when the now Mrs. Rowboat and I rolled into Kennedy’s for a couple of adult beverages. She thought I was breaking up with her, I on the other hand just wanted a couple of beers. Boy that made for a few awkward moments when she was finally forced to ask; “so are we done, or not?” Apparently my answer was not as I didn’t want the night to end so quickly. Damn wheat, hopps, and barley……
2 years later we can no longer go back to the place she thought I was going to dump her at. Sadness abounds.
She on the other hand doesn’t ever remember going into Kennedy’s until the Snakin reminded her of the poo smell. Obviously she has spend some serious time blocking this night out of her mind, but it comes racing back when coupled with the smell of fecal matter.
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