It was 20 degrees Fahrenheit in Green Bay, Wis. at game time this past Sunday. It was not appreciably warmer on Beacon Hill.
But the Beacon Pub opened early that day, to accommodate its regular customers who wished to take in the Seahawks/Packers wild-card playoff game on the big-screen TV. And the proprietors saw to it there was hot coffee and breakfast waiting for them. On the house.
"Good old-fashioned American food," said Laura Francis, as she brought out the sweet rolls and the biscuits-and-gravy and the corned-beef hash and spuds from the kitchen.
Her offspring, Dan and Laurie Lusko, took over operations at the old Beacon Tavern about three and a half years ago, renamed it the Beacon Pub, and have gradually, gradually made improvements without changing the essential neighborhood hangout feel of the place.
Laurie, a construction worker (she helped build the new stadiums, among other things), had tended bar at the old tavern whenever work in the trade fell off. She liked the place, and she liked the clientele. She just figured it could use a little tweaking.
"It was so dark and dingy," Laurie said, gesturing toward the windows she installed in front. "But this is a great little neighborhood pub. We like the people here. We get a good mix-older people, younger people."
The Luskos and their mom ("she comes here every weekend," Dan said, "we couldn't live without her on the weekends") had only about half a dozen patrons at kickoff time. But it was only 10 a.m., after all, and patrons trickled in by the ones and twos and threes. By halftime 20 or so folks, many of them addressing one another by first name, were catching the action on the big screen and the other pair of TVs behind the bar.
If you've spent much time in a cold-weather, blue-collar Midwestern town (a place like Green Bay, Wis, say), where, as a matter of practical necessity, the neighborhood tavern is a cultural institution and something of an art form, the Beacon Pub would feel familiar. It's cozy like that, a refuge from the weather and the all the other misery the world dishes out. It has faux brick part way up the interior walls, and a suit of armor near the door and a velvet Elvis painting and, by the new pool table in back, one of those tapestries showing dogs shooting pool.
"There's always a lively mix of people here," said Jamie, who, despite residing in far-off Maple Valley, stops by the Beacon Pub two or three times a week. "Everybody gets along. There's never a fight. It's a family atmosphere and it's fun."
Part of what brings Jamie by is her boyfriend, a fellow named Primo who lives in relatively nearby South Park. Primo is a musician, the frontman for an ensemble called Primo the Band, which gigs at the Beacon Pub.
"It's a beautiful place," Primo said late in the fourth quarter, when the outcome of the game was still very much in doubt "It's a good crowd, nice people. It's getting to be pretty well-known among musicians."
"My sister works really hard at booking bands," Dan said. "We book new bands on Thursday. They play for their friends and the neighbors."
Saturday nights also feature live music, Dan said, and on Fridays it's karaoke.
"There's no cover charge, but we pass the hat," he added. "Sometimes that works out better."
To the Luskos' everlasting credit, their rehabilitation of the bar's restrooms spared what has to be a candidate for the World Urinal Hall of Fame, a gaping one-customer-at-a-time unit with teeth painted about its rim.
"We redid everything, but we kept the shark," Dan said.
"I thought, where's my life going?" Laurie chimed in. "I'm painting a men's urinal!"
With the new year came another change at the Beacon Pub. They now serve distilled spirits, so you can get a bump to go with your beer, or a bloody Mary (they were a hit on Sunday morning) with a stalk of celery protruding from it.
Dan said the menu will soon be expanded. His little pub will be serving burgers. It makes sense, he said, because it's hard to find a hamburger on Beacon Hill, and because it's in keeping with the unpretentious nature of the place.
"People celebrate their birthdays here," Dan said. "In fact, we even keep a helium tank in back to fill balloons."
Running a neighborhood bar has been a real education.
"My sister is a really good bartender," he said. "I learned everything from her. When we first started out, if she wasn't here I got really nervous."
But that's been a while now, and Dan has settled in right along with the bar.
Like its neighbor up the street, the bar at the soon-to-depart South China restaurant, the Beacon Pub draws a crowd that reflects its surroundings. The customers come in all shades and sizes, Dan said, and he likes it that way. He has himself lived on the Hill for 16 years, and it suits him fine.
"It's sad to see the South China go," Laurie said. "It's been there forever, and they make some good martinis down there."
The Beacon Pub remains a work in progress. The wall-to-wall carpeting was torn up recently (it was hell to keep clean, Dan said) and the concrete floor beneath was painted with a star-shaped stencil. The stage was moved from the back of the space to the front, and the kitchen is awaiting a couple of pieces of new equipment.
"We're doing the best we can with what we have," Laurie said. "What you see is what you get."
[[In-content Ad]]
