DOWN at Frick's Bar

Photo of Frick's Bar

Article below is from the Quad Cities Times Posted: Friday, February 11, 2005 12:00 am | By: Bill Wundram

… And a guy who hid 2 shots in the men's room

DOWN at Frick's Bar, the vintage neon sign in the front window at 1402 W. 3rd St. still says, "Good Beer, Served Properly." The air is redolent with the sweet smell of beer in what's claimed as Davenport's oldest-running bar. It is a saloon of memories, of hog butchers who elbowed the bar with politicians, and a little man who always hid two shots of whiskey in the men's room. Frick's is thought to be 130 years old — no one can say for certain — and the only thing new is the owner, Bret Dalton, who has just bought the place. He stands, smiling behind the shiny bar, which has a network of deep round dents. It is a mystery how they got there. Dalton bought the saloon — which is as historic as any church, landmark or old house in the city — as a fluke. "I saw this ad in the QUAD-CITY TIMES about a tavern for sale in downtown Davenport. I was interested, thinking I'd buy out my competition," says Bret, who owns Dalton's, a popular downtown watering hole and restaurant. "I was surprised to find the place was Frick's, a dozen blocks from downtown."

Probably, it is the narrowest barroom in the Quad-Cities. The space from bar to wall is 15 feet, and the place is 75 feet long, Bret says. As it always has been, Frick's is still a social gathering place for the west end of Davenport. It has been that way since the Frick family took over in 1888. It was a bar before that, doing back to the mid-1870s. The mosaic front entry still bears the name Frick. Generations ago, working men crossed that mosaic, carrying their quart pails to be filled with beer to be taken home. They'd smear grease around the rim to cut down on foam and get more beer. Through prohibition and depression, wars and peace, the old corner tap has hung on like a dog to its bone. It survived prohibition by selling ice cream, near beer and root beer. Who is to say that the beer wasn't spiked with grain alcohol in cars parked outside on West 3rd, where the trolley cars rattled along the brick street. Since taking over, Dalton has made few changes. He has painted the ceiling, and done other sprucing up, but the place still lingers with a built-in essence of cigarette and cigar smoke. There's no way to squeeze the barroom scent from a knotty pine wall. That pine stretch has a long shelf, about a yard wide, a congenial place for stand-up drinkers to debate the Cubs' trade of Sammy Sosa. Thankfully, the original mirrors have been returned to the back bar. That is an admirable move, because a mirror is a good place to stare at life, if at nothing but yourself, on a lonely afternoon.

Long ago, in the Frick family days, the hog butchers from Kohrs Packing Co. would stop by after work for boilermakers (a shot and a beer), and Oscar Mayer employees are still patrons. Ed Frick, one of the finest mayors to ever run the fair city of Davenport, presided over political decisions in front of that mirrored back bar that still is embellished with Tiffany style tulips. After the death of Mayor Ed Frick, his son Ross took after. When Ross died, it passed on to others in the family for a spell. There are so many stories about Frick's, in the brick building that began life as a bakery. Searching through musty drawers, the new owner has found such items as a baseball betting sheet, likely from the 1920s, when each league had only eight teams. The place for depositing bets was listed as a health facility at 220 Harrison St. In so many words, a bettor could say he was "going to the hospital" as an excuse for wagering. Then, there was the gent who would come to the bar with his wife. It was always a respectable place for women. In advance, he would call the bartender to put two shots of whiskey for him in the men's rest room before he arrived. He kept ducking in there to take a snort. His wife never knew. One night, some other guy went in the restroom and drank his drinks.
Ed Frick often told that story, repeating, "I never saw a guy so mad."

Reference

Quad Cities Times:… And a guy who hid 2 shots in the men's room. Retrieved 01 May 2009 from http://www.qctimes.com/news/opinion/editorial/columnists/bill-wundram/article_1a3bfb77-1326-5e79-aeeb-cdd02e665460.html