The saloons and bars were a part of our social life in this period, and though there were plenty of men who did not drink, I knew very few. The place was strictly for the male species as the female had not arrived at the period when they tried to improve the atmosphere of the saloon.

There were some men who drank to much as there are to day, but the great majority knew how to drink and when to ease up. Money was a scarce article in these days, and that had a good effect on our drinking. They used it as a tranquilizer instead of a stimulant, and one thing that drinking did was to bring out their true inside look at life, weather it be a morbid one or a happy one. If you ever drank enough with a man you really knew him, as it is very hard for a man to hide anything with a few stiff ones under his belt.

Churchill's saloon was one of the best in Detroit. A very refined spot and I still can see Mr. Churchill himself sitting on a very high stool, back of the bar, watching both the bartenders and his customers. What his reasons for setting so high, I never found out and I will have to leave it to your imagination.

The place had a feeling of culture with a number of old master painting on the walls, and located in a small recessed room in back was a pastel by Ralshoven of a nude. As this place was dimly lighted, it carried a feeling of being in some scared place.

The back room was usually occupied by a group of lawyers, business men, or artists. It had one large round table, and the room was much sought after place, and I imagine many difficult problems were settled in its quiet atmosphere. No loud laughter or noise came from this room as the well upholstered nude seemed to calm the average male and made a cultured human being out of him.

As the Detroit Opera House and Temple Theater were within thirty yards of the rear entrance of Churchill's, it was a common sight to see actors stand at the bar drinking a short one between acts. To see Mark Anthony, Julius Cairen, Ben Huron, or a couple of acrobats standing there, made quite a picture, and has always remained in my mind.

Churchill's was noted for its Tom & Jerries, and they were out of this world. Served with the best of taste out of a wonderful cut glass punch bowl on Christmas and New Years Eve.

But with all its class, I still remember a bottle of wine he gave me as a Christmas gift, and after a drink in my home, I happened to hold the bottle up to the light and found spiders and other funny insects floating around in the bottle. Churchill informed me they were perfectly harmless as the wine had made them very digestible, and he was right as I had no after effects.

Boman's saloon on Grand Circus Pard had the most wonderful free lunch with all kinds of cheeses from Limburger, roast beef, pretzels, boiled eggs, hams, onions, stews, and all kinds of sausages, cold slaw, potato salad, and lots of other dishes. All you had to do was look respectable, and buy a few drinks, and you could eat all you wanted. This amount of feed would cost you four fifty today, and wouldn't taste as good.

I still remember members of the Y.M.C.A. who played hand ball for an hour or two, had a shower and a good rub down. They would have reduced their weight by four or five pounds. Then they would go over to Bomans for a short one, and a snack. Before they left the saloon, they had regained all the lost weight and possibly added a few more pounds.

Of course, many of the customers would have attacks of indigestion after these affairs, but they kept doing the same thing day after day. Playing handball while wearing a rubber shirt to sweat off a few pounds, and then they would go back to Bomans. This kept the physical director of the Y.M.C.A. skinny, by worrying about them.

Across the street from the City Hall, was a saloon that served the best Corn Beef Hash in the world. Most saloons served some kind of a free lunch, and sometimes served regular meals besides. As the free lunch was well seasoned, it helped to sell drinks. Now days, they ought to give you a few drinks to wet your appetite for the food they sell you in most places.

At the foot of Woodward Ave., was Dolf's saloon. Run by an old German with high ideals, and who was very fussy about whom he served. You had to be careful when you were in his place. No loud talking, no noise like bouncing your silver money on his bar, or making smart remarks or he would most likely refuse to serve you. He could tell in one look whether you ought to have another drink or not.

But, boy oh boy, could he draw a perfect glass of beer-just looking at it was a pleasure, just the right amount of foam, and right degree of coldness. He had a grand reputation, and was proud of it. He was a perfectionist.

Some of the saloons in those days had a trough with running water along the front of the bar like a small open sewer usually full of cigar butts, matches, and I imagine it was for sanitary purposes, but it never seemed to accomplish its purpose as I have seen drunks using it for all kinds of purposes.

All bars had a brass rail about six inches off the barroom floor which was used as a foot rest. It seemed to work as you could stand in front of a bar with one foot on the brass rail for hours without getting leg weary. They never had bar stools in those days as a man felt safer on his feet than on his rear-end.

The neighborhood saloon always sold beer for home use by the pint or quart. You furnished the container, usually a tin pail with a handle and cover. Five cents a pint, and ten cents a quart for a fine tasting beer.

All neighborhood saloons had a back door with a peek hold for Sunday, holidays, and after hours and it gave many the wives a way to get a pint for an afternoon coffee clutch, and don't think they didn't use it. I remember a very dignified advertising man who was shocked when he found out his wife had rushed the growler for a few friends on a hot July afternoon.

Woman in those days were not allowed in the barroom at this period. Why I don't know, as they get just as thirsty as men and most of them like beer as well as men do.

Everyman had his favorite bar in those days, and it felt good when walking into a bar and have the owner or bartender welcome you by name. A sound that warms the cockles of your heart.

Jacoby's saloon was a favorite of mine, and was located right behind the old County Building. Jacoby's served a wonderful free lunch, and was patronized by judges, lawyers, politicians, working men, artists and some reporters. It wasn't much of a place to look at, but Jacoby's stew with all the bread you could eat was a god send to anybody who was short of money. I doubt if I would have survived with out that stew which had real meat, and you could have it refilled if necessary. Of course you had to buy a beer if you had a nickel.

A pal of mine, Charlie Voilher had an idea to get a little extra money. I made a drawing of a bunch of female figures having fun in a mountain stream and teasing a poor tramp. We had a woodcut made of the drawing, and had about five thousand cards printed. We would sell these cards by the hundreds with the saloons name on the other side and would make five bucks a saloon. These cards carried up through a very tough year, until the saloonkeepers found out we were selling the cards to any saloon, and that put us out of business.

In these days, to live, enjoy yourself and dress in style required a lot of work, but it was worth it.

I really think the saloon did as much good as it did evil. It was one place you could forget your troubles, get some advice, and sympathy, argue politics, or ever borrow a buck or two if you were lucky.