Setting the bar high for community devotion.

Originally posted June 4th 2021

The bar was quiet, which was rare. Pickled Pete's is usually humming with some sort of chatter. However, today was Sunday. A day when the small-town bar and grill is usually closed to visitors. The jukebox is silent although the shuffleboard game occasionally calls out automatically, encouraging the empty air to a game. Maybe, I think, sometimes late at night, old ghosts answer.

There's plenty that could haunt these walls.

Most bars, depending on their quality have a scent. Pete's is no different, but the smell is a clean one. More like a diner than any backstreet bar. The owners have always kept it that way. Sure, during the late evening of Saturday nights it smells like fried food, beer, and tang of pool chalk. It never seems to stink though, and Pete's has never had the gritty film of life so many bars seem to get.

The owner’s Matt and Pam care too much. Not just about the bar, but the people that wander through the doors.

You see Pickled Pete's is located in a small town, and although a long well-used bartop has pride of place, it's hardly a big city drinking den.

In fact, if you wandered through at just the right time every day you'd think it was a teenagers clubhouse. Every day the town's high school kids grab lunch uptown, and Pete's is a popular choice. Quick cheap burgers and fries and a waitress that knew your order on sight are hard to beat for any teenager. Pete's is full in the early evening too. A mix of adults and kids of all ages wander through. Some eat at booths, play shuffleboard or pool, adults drink a beer with friends.

After any hometown event from a football game to the school play, Pete's fills quickly. Parents grabbing a few seconds of peace while their kids watch Matt work the soda gun at the bar or play pool. It's a bar sure, but it's a lot more than that.

Long before the term "bar and grill" was taken over by chain restaurants places like Pete's set the gold standard for them. At the core places like Pete's are community gathering spots, with beer foam on top. Not the other way around.

If you, dear reader, are not from a small town, I need you to understand. This is not a city bar. I spent a lot of my childhood within those walls. Most of my group of friends did… Although thinking about it, most of the town can probably say that too. As a 90s kid, my generation was the last without the internet as the main focus of our worlds. We didn't have cell phones much as teens, and things like YouTube didn't exist. We had to go find something to do, and in our area, that list can be pretty short. Pete's was always a sure bet, especially if you couldn't drive yet. You felt like you were in the adult ocean, but safe in the shallows. Watched over by not only the staff's careful gaze but that of anyone in the community who happened to be there as well. As a young teen, you could grab something to eat, play pool, feed the jukebox, and watch the adults. Matt had a landline and we were all welcome to use it at any time to check in with our parents.

You also knew, absolutely KNEW, with the same kind of certainty that you breathe with, that if you acted up in Pete's your family would know before you even hit the front door. I don't care if you lived two blocks away and ran the entire way at a dead sprint.

Our town didn't need cell phones to communicate the misdeeds of an errant child with lightning quickness. Pete's was safe. No bully on a bike bent on trouble was following you in there to start anything. Not with that look, they would get from whoever was behind the bar. I imagine many first dates happened at Pete's too for many of the same reasons.

We learned how adults behaved in a more relaxed setting than a restaurant, and how a bar worked. When we turned 21, Pete's was a darn good place to nervously order that first beer. After all, they didn't care if you did it wrong, and probably disappointingly didn't ID you. Why should they? You likely grew up with their kids and they were at your 21st birthday celebration anyway. (Trust me though. When in doubt they always ID.)

Pickled Pete's has been a major part of the fabric of our small community for almost a quarter of a century. It's a good place. The kind of business that donated to everything the school or the kids had going. Whether they got credit or not. A solid place owned by kind people, but well… nothing stays forever.

That's why I'm there that sunny Sunday in May. A day when usually the place is quiet. I meet Matt, Pam, and their son Jarrod with big hugs. It's time to put the place up for sale. Matt is in his 60s now, and Jarrod has a busy life that while he loves it, doesn't include being a barkeep. Hard to blame him. Owning a place like Pete's requires well over 60 hours a week to keep rolling.

When I heard of the sale I asked if I could come in with my gear. Just capture a few things. As always when the community comes asking for nearly anything, Pam and Matt said yes.

I honestly believe whoever buys the bar will do a good job. They will make it theirs, and change this or that. Change, is good, especially for small towns which like to stay stuck in older ways. I also believe with all my heart that Pam and Matt deserve that retirement.

Yet. I wanted to capture it. Like a kid desperately getting signatures of high school friends before graduation. Before the changes.

Not for me, or not JUST for me. I wanted to capture Pete's because Pam and Matt did so much more than have a bar. They built a safe place for the community. They fed a lot of kids over the years, sometimes with Pam whispering to them not to worry about the bill.

They protected and sheltered residents when life got insane. Pete's was always a safe place to grab a few quiet minutes, to find out what's going on. Pete's was where every fundraiser ever went with hand and heart out. I thought about it the other day. Just the donations I personally know of.. Over the years they have donated well over twenty grand to the community. Likely that's about a half of what Pam's records would show.

Simply put, Pickled Pete's made Frontenac a better place. I want Pam and Matt to be able to look at these photos and remember that. They did MORE than run a bar. They played a huge part in a lot of people's lives, a lot of kid’s lives as we grew up on those quiet streets and wide sidewalks.

I want them to always be able to look back and remember because I know Frontenac will never forget.