Many years ago, when I was 18 years old in Hutchinson, Kansas, there were three taverns, better know as beer joints down on south main street. They were known as the 3 Queens. You should know that it was also about the same time the Navy base was being phased out. Now brother Jake and I liked to drink and I liked to dance. In Kansas, at that time any bar worth frequenting had a dance floor. So, let's set the mood here by clicking on the title of the song! queen of the silver dollar
So, this oasis down on South Main Street in Hutchinson, Kansas housed a plethora of bars. Brown Derby, Manhattan Club (which was my favorite), Anchor Inn, another one that slips my mind, and the Crystal Ballroom. The Crystal Ballroom, which had a giant crystal ball mounted high above the dance floor, was only open on Saturday night. It was mostly for old people. There actually was a bar called the Silver Dollar, but it was clear across town on Highway 96 on the way to Nickerson. I was only there once or twice. I did not like the ambiance there.
The Manhattan club was owned by a man known as "Dutch" somebody. I would sometimes work the bar so he could go do errands in the afternoon. A few notes here. At that time it was illegal to sell alcohol to Indians because it "made them crazy". It was hard for me to differentiate between them and Mexicans, who could drink until they fell over. Sure different from now when you are required to serve people of every nationality.
There were whores who worked the bars. I knew only one and her name was Seabiscuit. That was not her name, but it was her "working name." I do recall she drank White Horse Scotch with cream. Pretty sure those two things together would curdle, but not my circus; not my monkeys! I came to know her on a different level. She once had a family and a home like normal people, her husband had left her and taken the kids and South Main Street became her home and prostitution her means of survival.
There was another one who was a little "pudgy" and giggled a lot. I am not sure she charged for her wares, but rather did it for the sheer enjoyment of the work. Her name was Berniece.
My step brother, Gene had frequented the bars and they both remembered him. Since my maiden name was Bartholomew it was easy for anyone to link us together. Gene Bartholomew, Delbert (Jake) Bartholomew, Louella Bartholomew.
Fights broke out fairly regularly at the Manhattan Club, but as soon as the police arrived the fights stopped and they were warned not to do that again. I still carry a scar right below my ankle from a beer bottle someone threw across the floor that broke and went into my heel.
The last time I went to Hutch, I was going to go to South Main Street and check out my old stomping grounds, but I didn't. The next time I am going to make it a point. I am willing to bet that the bars have turned into antique shops. That time of my life was over 60 years ago, and time marches on!
My kids will no doubt, cringe in horror when the read this post. But then again, they may actually be relieved to know that momma was young once and wasn't always a prude. And they may understand how I figured out what they were doing because Momma done been there and done that!!!
