Many bars have come and gone. For some, it was a miracle that they lasted so long. Some were destined for an early death. And most importantly, some truly great establishments will be sorely missed.
But some of the dearly departed were old friends, and I will miss them:
Jasmine Tree (formerly at 401 SW Harrison): In the late 90s I enjoyed quite a few evenings here after work (my first “real” job) drinking bottles of Henry’s and chatting with coworkers. Another regular was an honest to god Goombah, always dressed sharp and wearing a giant pinky ring, that held court at the bar. I don’t miss the job, but I do miss the (mini) catamaran hanging from the ceiling.
Jockey Club (formerly at 1001 N Killingsworth): The Jockey Club was a cinder block bunker right off the freeway on Killingsworth. From Saraveza (1004 N Killingsworth) you can now wistfully observe the bulldozed spot down the street where, in the late 90s and early oughts, my brother Steve often dominated Portland Pinball League tournaments. I drank $1 pints of PBR and inhaled copious amounts of second hand smoke. And usually came in 6th place. I think I came in 4th once.
Medicine Hat Gallery (formerly at 1834 NE Alberta): Another former Portland Pinball League location, I also saw my friends’ band play here a few times. The space was amazing; a huge disheveled warehouse with a large mezzanine and sprawling basement.
Rose and Raindrop (formerly at 532 SE Grand): This wasn’t one of my favorite places, but they had a great beer selection and the interior was beautiful. The plush booths transported you to a different, and better, era. Occasionally my indoor soccer team would come by after late night games for beers and oyster shooters. I think Bar Fly’s analysis of it’s demise is perfect: Sadly, the Rose & Raindrop has closed down to make way for a bank. A fucking bank.
And one that was not on the list, probably due to it’s disappearance before the Bar Fly website was launched:
Sam’s was a divey old-school chain restaurant; cafeteria-style roast beef buffet with a full bar and a pool table. On Sixth, where that damn McDonalds is now. There were no windows then, so no natural light was shed on the sedate subterranean setting. [more]
You are all missed.