The Pub Crawl . . . . The Beginning

Pub Crawl: [ puayb kra all]. The visiting of one or more "establishments" with the express purpose of absorbing the atmosphere and ambiance of each to create a combined effect.


The intersection of Louisiana Highway 1 (Youree Drive) and State Route 3032 (East Kings Highway) holds a special place in my heart. In such a small area you could find many of favorite watering holes and gathering places of my youth. "The Cell" (Carousel Lounge); The Christian Union Building (The Cub); The Nail (Rusty Nail); The Peanut Gallery; and Sub and Ale (Bayer's) are names from the past with only the Cub still remaining. Although it is still a pub, they now offer a "fine dining experience" as well. A few years ago, a few days before my "oldest's " vows to "The Jim", we all went to the Cub. I walked inside after nearly thirty five years. It was as if I never left. But something happened to me for the only the second time at any bar/lounge or pub. I was asked to leave. My youngest was with us as well and she was only seventeen. In Louisiana, you have to be at least 21 years of age to be on the premises of any establishment that primarily serves alcohol. Jeez!, they have come a long way since the days of my youth. I was perfectly willing to let her wait in the car, but my bride was not happy with that idea. So we were asked to leave. The Cell has gone through several transformations. A few years back (20 or so) I once went inside, for old times sake. It was known as the Zodiac then and now it is known as Fat Cats. I looked on the jukebox and shockingly, I could not find that Johnny Nash's song that seemed to be playing every time I entered the Cell.You really can never go home again. The Carousel Lounge was owned by Boyd Gammel. He was not a very friendly man. The rumor was that he was "connected". Yes it is true that the "Buckle of the Baptist Bible Belt" was tarnished by the "Mob". He owned another bar called the Cotton Bowl Lounge located in another part of town. My next door neighbor had a mom and pop convenience store adjacent to the Cotton Bowl Lounge and Liquor Store. (named the Cotton Bowl Market). I worked for Mr. B. one summer. During that time I got to know Mr. Gammel. He used to hang out at the Cotton Bowl. In addition to stocking shelves, sweeping, and mopping, my job was to see that the "hot links" were put on each morning and to watch for shop lifters. Each day at noon I would hide inside the cooler and look through the rows of beer and malt liquor out into the store looking for thieves. I caught a lot. I used to stack the beer cases into what looked like a fort. I would slip in it and spy at the customer/thieves. I once caught a beer delivery guy stealing large slabs of bacon from inside the cooler. He always wore a large jacket and he sweated a lot. He would bring the Pearl in and slip the bacon inside of his jacket. We wondered why he sweated so much inside of the cooler and I suppose we found out why. Back then it never was a problem getting alcohol when you were actually too young to legally purchase it. I was buying bottles of whiskey from Mr. Gammel at the the Cotton Bowl Lounge when I was a sixteen year old. Back then, I was a good old Southern Baptist kid. I sang in the youth choir every Sunday night. Gary, Phillip or Phil as I called him (the choir director's son), C.L. (his first name is Caroled), Hook (later to be my first college roommate), Chuck and Fish (he got the nickname because he drank like a fish) would each take snorts from my bottles prior to choir practice each Sunday afternoon. We felt that it made us sing better. Damn, I am getting off the subject.

Both the Carousel and the Cotton Bowl had rotating bars. The bar area was in the middle and surround by chairs. The bar it self, moved in a very slow clockwise motion. So in the coarse of an hour or so you could circle the entire place. Mr. Gammel built his his rotating bars to copy the famous carousel bar in the Monteleon Carousel Piano Bar & Lounge which is immortalized in the writings of Ernest Hemingway among others. The Cell was a college bar. If you did not go to college or at least look as if you did, then I suppose it was not the place for you. If you attended the local Loly Poly U (Louisiana Tech) or Northwestern (Louisiana) State you were in good company. If you attended LSU then you received a "few extra feathers in your caps". The Cotton Bowl Lounge was a redneck bar. Back then if your hair even touched your ears, you were considered a dope smoking hippie. Hell most of us were. The Cub was a bar that never truly catered to particular crowd. I once walked in only to find my father and a couple of his friends hoisting a few. It was actually pretty weird. (In the next few years, I "crossed paths with Dear Old Dad a few more times. I gradually got used to it. Besides he always paid) The Nail and the Peanut Gallery were there too. Also close by was Murrel's # 2 (cafe) as was (is) Strawn's Eat Shop. (famous for their strawberry pies).The Nail was located in a building that used to sell four track tapes and tape decks. Yes, I said four track. It later became known as The Killer Poodle. The Peanut Gallery attempted to cater to the bohemian crowd. They had live music (I actually played there a few times). Also they had several foos ball tables and they prided themselves as being a mecca for foos ball players. Bill Sullivan and I were partners. (No, we are not related)We were damn good. Well....lets say he was damn good. I just stood there. Ever so often I would have a flash of brilliance and make a great block or score. The aforementioned bars (except the Cotton Bowl) were all within walking distance. I admit, we usually drove to the Nail since it was across the King's Highway. Bayer's Sub and Ale was a across Highway 1 and access to it required driving for sure. Bayer's was a local hamburger chain. Old man Bayer opened his "Sub and Ale" as a restaurant with a bar attached. His restaurant sold po-boys and submarines and hamburgers. He may have sold more but I do not recall. At some point I remember being told that the pub in the back of the Sub and Ale was the place to be. It was. You could purchase a pewter stein and have your name engraved on it. The steins were hung over the bar and they stopped selling them after they had no room for them. So if you had one it meant you were cool.

My friend Gary used to work with his dad in his machine shop. (actually not far from the Cotton Bowl) Gary worked with an old black man whose name was Stomy. Gary would make fun of me and call me Stomy. ( Stow Me) I was not too fond of it. So you guessed it, the nickname stuck. Hell, my own mother called me Stomy. Nearly all of my friends knew me as it. But then the Classics IV came out with a song called Stormy. It was a follow up hit to Spooky (little girl like My nickname went from Stomy to Stormy and that was the name I had on my stein. I made me seem as a bad ass. I had this tee shirt,(Baseball warm up sleeves actually) that had an Irish flag on the back of it along with my nickname. On the front was printed "Get Drunk and Fight". Everyone began to think I had this horrible temper. I was never much of a fighter but the image followed me. So I really loved the Sub and Ale. Sadly things change. It seems that the bar could not satisfy Mr. Bayer's projections and he seemed to be loosing money on his venture. At one time he worked hard to get all of our crowd to hang out there and then later he went out of his way to run us off. There were a few legendary fights in the parking lot. I never was involved in any of them and for that matter I never witnessed one. But I sure heard about them. And finally, we were no longer welcome. He threw all the steins away. My cool nickname sorta of went away about the same time too. I write all of this because almost every Friday and Saturday night with or without dates, we would make our rounds at the aforementioned bars. Thus the pub crawl concept was begun and embedded into me. So for years when we went out we ended up at several place rather than just one. Of course there were other places in town as well, Mom's on Centenary (a titty bar) was a favorite place. Well it was until someone (connected with the Mob) threw a bomb in it and blew it up. (They sponsored a bowling team I was on.); The Raven, (Formerly Caroline's) on Old Mansfield Road; Mr Crow's;(Still open) on W. 70th; Glen and Glenda's ("I love you Cedar Grove" written on front door) (I once played in a band there. There were more people in our band than actually showed up at the bar);The Stage Door, (North of town , owned by the same people(my first wife's cousins) who owned Glen and Glenda's);The Wagon Wheel (where my first wife's uncle Dean was shot); King's Lounge, (great pop corn);The Spot Club, (pool hall); Tooters,(where I made my football bets with a real bookie); the Blue Note; the Gay 90's (another titty bar)(which was not a gay bar but was next door to one (The Elbow room); The Coachman; Club Westwood; Lake Cliff Lounge (a real shit hole where I once saw Willie Nelson play); the Apollo Lounge;The Afro-American Scene (which was opened before integration was truly accepted in Shreveport. We went there to buy pot.); Pleasants'; and The Orbit Lounge (Where I used to play with a couple of different bands. One night while on break, an airman from nearby Barksdale Air Force Base hit me over the head with a full beer mug. It seems he thought I was stealing his girlfriend from him. I was trying to at least.) were just a few of the places I would go on my pub crawls. There were many more and I am sure but the years has faded them from my memory.

I never have been the type to settle into one place or another. I have always felt the ambiance of many out weighs just one. The concept of pub crawls was with me then and frankly is still . I shall be writing about some of my pub crawls in future musings so stay tuned...



Pic of the old Gay 90's -->

The owner, Clyde Hyde was loosing money
so he drove to Memphis, Tn. and attempted to
rob a bank. He was killed in the attempt.

The bar was completely covered in Silver Dollars.



















Note: As you can easily derive, I grew up in Shreveport, Louisiana (1960-1974). My first wife and I were married there. She lives near there now as well. I currently have two living aunts ( my dad's sister and my mother's sister)that live in the area. I have not visited either of them in a long time. I feel bad about that. I also have two cousins who live near there as well. My oldest and her husband (The Jim) have moved to the Lone Star State. I rarely have a reason to visit my old town. I merely pass through. Some of my writings have centered on the Shreveport area. The pictures I insert are actually real pics of the places I speak of in this rambling. It is a part of my past and shall be subject to recall from time to time. It is a great place to be from. My old hometown is the pedestal upon which my story rests.


Le Bon Temp Rule



The Third