The Red Arrow sign reminded me of a very small country tavern about a quarter mile from the farm where I grew up. Prior to the Red Arrow Inn, it was Dodge's tavern. Dodge was a nickname because he was a "Dodge" man. A life long bachelor, Dodge lived in the back half of what may have been a building measuring 20 feet square. Inside was running water, but the restroom was an outhouse. With about eight stools, it was enough to support Dodge for most of his life.
The tavern was located at the intersection of Wisconsin State Highways 32 and 96 about a half mile from the farming village of Morrison on Highway 32. (Today County Highway W).
Since the Red Arrow Memorial Highway passed by the front door of this country tavern, the Red Arrow Inn was a logical name chosen by the new owner. The Red Arrow Inn was also where I practiced the craft of bar tending. Since I already had a job, I am not sure why I wanted to tend bar. It didn't last long before I let the license lapse.
Tending bar at the Red Arrow Inn was an easy job. It was mostly beer with the rare call for hard liquors. One requested drink was a Boiler Maker -- a shot glass of whiskey and a glass of beer as a chaser. Ouch.
Subsequent visits to the Red Arrow Inn were as an infrequent customer with University studies taking priority.
I was younger. ambitious and no body pains. The Red Arrow brought back great memories.
How about a comment to relate your memory of the Red Arrow Inn at Morrison Wisconsin.
It can be both happy and sad, thinking about memories. Still, it's good you can recall! Blessings, Lynn
ReplyDeleteReminds me of the good old days too. My good old days. Back when the owner of the little grocery store knew everyone who came in to shop. When the owner was also the man behind the cash register and was also the butcher who thought nothing of coming to the cash register with a bloody apron. The store so small that items were stacked to the ceiling and the same man would come out with a long pole with a grabber at the end to bring down anything you needed. And when little kids always got a piece of candy for being so good as to run their mother's errands for them.
ReplyDeleteThere was that sense of a community all contributing to the upbringing of each child. Just as adults looked to reward good behavior with a lollipop, so they thought nothing of disciplining as well. Worked pretty darn good I would say.
I miss those days when people really knew people.
Your comment reminds me of the general store in the farming village of Morrison. A country store had everything -- from food to shoes. The memories of the circa 1945 general store may require a post.
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