At the minimum, the Club should be respected for what it, like many bars in small towns across Alaska, brought to the community. In the lonely dark hours of Alaska, bars were a community center, a gathering place before the times of light boxes and growth-induced activity.
The building was uninsurable when my mom bought it (to her surprise). It was the community of Homer that helped rebuild it (and a second mortgage on our home). Built into the walls of the Club are the hours of sweat and joy from the dedicated “family” that held the bar in a special spot in their hearts.
Sadly, while the painting and the famous city council meeting can be looked upon now as a sort of small-town Alaska story, the experience caused my mom enormous pain. She was ill-prepared for the hate mail she got and so naive.
Her 25 years of marriage and minimal secretarial skills made her ill-prepared to run a business patronized by the most needy in town and withstand undeserved hatred. She left Homer bankrupt.
We now know that the gradual loss of the use of her legs she experienced in the last two years of the bar were part of the colon cancer that killed her few years after she left.
My mom brought joy to many people with the Club. And I hope that the people who actually knew her will always remember her for her beautiful smile and ever-giving and friendly nature. My vote for the building is to keep it true to what is was built for — community gatherings and celebration. Honor it as part of Homer’s legacy.
Elise (Bedsworth) Wolf
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