300 calls to 911 in 365 days. As legend has it, that’s the record that marked the end-of-the-end for the Esquire Tavern, a hole-in-the-wall on the Riverwalk that, prior to its forced closing in 2006, was a 73 y.o. boozy downtown San Antonio institution that played host to denizens of all types, united solely by a common desire to get drunk. The Esquire opened in 1933, the year Prohibition ended. At one point it boasted the longest bar in Texas (77-feet), which is capable of holding 5,973 Lone Star longnecks; that they actually did this is a testament to the fact that good ideas are good ideas, regardless of your blood alcohol content.
“It was puro San Antonio,” the old caretaker said in a recent Express-News article. “At the bar, you might see a judge, a homeless person, a war vet, a crack addict all drinking beer.” …Intriguing. What’s more, “People were afraid that when they went around a murky corner inside the smoke-filled tavern they could get mugged or stabbed, but, at the same time, they still felt safe.” …Less intriguing.
Fortunately, after the Esquire closed but before someone turned it into something terrible, a local fellow purchased the dirt and has spent the better part of the past two years restoring it. We were there last week for a private party (recognizing the artists-in-residence at Artpace) and got a sneak peak. They’ve hired Jill Giles to do the interior, and if one of her other what’s-old-is-new-again projects – the Bar at Bohanan’s – is any indication of what’s to come, we’re in for a treat.
I asked the new owner how he planned to keep out the riff-raff. “We’ll increase the cost of beer six-fold,” pegging the new price at $4.50 a bottle (or thereabouts). Do the math. And God Bless this town, where for under five bucks you can move the ability and willingness-to-pay a few very critical rungs up the socio-economic scale.
To be sure, the re-incarnation of the Esquire might be positively tame by comparison to its former self, yet speaking as a member of the silent majority - those who are looking for authenticity while also actively avoiding knife play - it may just be... the place to be. But I don’t want to be around when the bus stop insurrection occurs.
P.S. These pictures are dreadful, but I was dealing with incredibly low light and a new camera with which I’m not yet entirely comfortable.
