| TRAVELS OF DURSMIRG VOLUME IV THE ROGUES OF ST. AUGUSTINE AND OTHER SOCIAL MISFITS Chapter 30 |
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previous chapter 29
A word about the St. George Tavern;
This was not just a tourist destination, this authentic real life American style tavern was an antique of questionable
age.
As far as the old-timers were concerned it had always been there.
Featuring beer, booze and something to eat at workingman’s rates the seasoned old no-nonsense owner Chuck
Crowley enjoyed a steady revolving clientele.
Old stable Chuck the brains and instigator of operations kept his St. George Tavern perpetually in motion beginning
with the morning eye-openers, the noon lunch crowd, afternoon strolling tourists, after work blue collar bunch that
followed evenings by the Flagler College horde that dominated the place until closing time.
That college bunch made old Chuck their idol that was near and dear to their hearts, respected as a guardian and
held up like the mascot of their parental custodian.
A certain charm beckoned you into this no frills establishment that possessed a magnetic allure with its open doors
and was unassuming to the point of being totally authentic.
Street strolling tourists in the Old City’s historic section were easily enticed by the savory cooking aromas that
wafted out onto St. George Street from the front window kitchen of this old town tavern that knowledgeable
conversant Chuck so cleverly incorporated into his scheme of things.
Wondering in the open front door of the tavern was a natural turn of events for sight-seeing tourists and once inside
the authentic old place nostalgically said; “stay a while”.
Easy going and congenial Chuck had a winning low-key way of making his new-comers at home congenially offering
a seat and easing their thirst.
As Chuck instinctively knew, a comfortable seat and a refreshing drink promptly served were the first keys to happy
clients that would stick around for food and more drink.
Couples and families tended to take the high backed booths that were more intimate and slightly private but single
men preferred a bar stool where they could be part of the crowd.
Make no mistake about it this was a pleasant place with enticing ambiance.
St. Augustine was still a quiet off the highway place with a pace of life that was small town in the 1970s and hadn’t
yet geared up to entice hordes of visitors for mass-tourism.
These were the days before St. George Street became a walking street with that theme park atmosphere so limited
motor traffic still passed by on the roly-poly red brick street clacking along with the horse drawn tourist carriages.
The local patrons entered the tavern by way of the even less conspicuous rear door off a narrow alleyway only
signified by the tiniest of weather worn signs. Mornings delivery people would be seen rolling in their hand-truck
laden cases and kegs of beer to be stacked in the corner of this single story structure. Unless you had prior
knowledge of this unobtrusive rear entry way your chances of you finding it were slim-to-none.
And this only added to the mystique of Chuck Crowley’s enticing establishment.
What went on in this mans meticulous mind was a collection of a lifetime of astute interpersonal relationships of a
master publican who had gained his prowess over the duration of years to become a master of his trade.
What seemed like a natural flow and progression of events as you stepped into the naturally no-frills inviting St.
George Tavern was actually a methodically orchestrated subliminal invitation to be a part of this step-back-in-time
nostalgia trip.
Totally devoid of glitter and glitz the St. George Tavern’s low profile Americana of a time long gone by possessed a
special subconscious message that is commingled not just with sights and sounds but wafting aromas slipping
silently out to entice you in.
Never noisy or rowdy, but easy going and friendly enterprising Chuck kept a lid on the audible ambiance and placed
his kitchen up front adjacent to the entry way where enticing culinary aromas would slip out onto the street and
silently suck you in.
Once inside the St. George Tavern the ambient atmosphere wasn’t too dark, wasn’t too bright…just right.
The first impression was an invitation to linger.
A long darkened by age bar that conjured up fond memories of past centuries sporting a shiny polished and worn
bright brass foot rail spoke of countless clients that preferred leaning against the bar instinctively getting a leg up.
The dimensional size gave an impression of un-crowded cozy intimacy 20 some feet wide with a ceiling height to
match. The ceiling was clad in ornate stamped steel panel dating back to the last renovation in the pre-Flagler era
and was mellow toned by years of tavern smoke.
The bar was just long enough for one bartender if the crowd wasn’t too big and Chuck normally worked it with only
the help of an efficient barmaid who not only served up the drinks but doubled as cook-waitress and washer.
One of the secrets to the popularity and success of the Saint George Tavern was the seemingly unhurried but
efficiently delivered service…first seat the customer and then get a drink in their hand fast.
Once the customer was in their seat and relaxing with their drink the full ambiance of the Saint George Tavern
became apparent.
This uniquely distinctive place was a real antique unto itself built in an era when old world craftsmanship went the
extra mile with ornate solid constructed fixtures with the intent that it last many lifetimes.
The bar and back-bar matched the long gone time with eye pleasing appeal.
But as soon as your eyes surveyed the tavern’s lovely furnishings and fell upon the centerpiece of the back-bar you
would be immediately riveted upon the bewitchingly beautiful oversized oil painting nearly six feet tall and twelve feet
long of the Jacksonville waterfront in the days of sailing ships.
Chuck would always challenge his patrons of the St. George Tavern that were transfixed on the painting to count the
number of people depicted there. This always called for the patron to order another round of drinks and ponder the
painting again.
This lovely little slice of St. Augustine’s past leaves me with the fondest of memories and a longing to go back to
those wonderful days when the world was just a little less hurried and there were lovely people like Chuck Crowley to
make good memories that would last for a lifetime.
Sadly Chuck’s years advanced and eventually he sold out to take his retirement but he did sell his memorable and
controversial back-bar painting to a hotel in Jacksonville where it is prominently on display to this day.
Old St. George Street was just another downtown city street actively engaged in local business and the
above advertisements from the St. Augustine Record in the mid 1970s attest to some of the mom and
pop well established businesses not aimed at tourism.
Historical spots however abounded and the oldest school commingled with the White Lion Lounge that had a little
better class of clientele than the Trade Winds, but as smoky.
The most fun of all was the Mill Top Tavern. A tumbled down building with beams of light streaming through the walls
and ceiling into the building by day and out by night, upstairs bar and “restaurant’ and downstairs knick-knack shop.
The upstairs bar jumped and jived featuring live music mixed with slapstick comic routines nightly with local
entertainers. One of our memorable local entertainers wrote much of his own lyrics that included my favorites; “Stick
out your Can”. The song went like this; Stick out your can I’m the garbage man and I’m not taking any of your trash if
you don’t stick out your can! With applause and a bow we were welcomed to St. Augustine, “The gateway to
Bunnell”.
Fun, laughter and lots of good times, this was about as cultured as old St. Augustine ever got back in the 1970s.
At the corner of Cathedral Place and St. George Streets the authentic 1821 vintage British government
building still endures and is actively part of the community.
next chapter
