Bill’s Drinking Establishment bids farewell to Marion

In my humble opinion, Bill's Drinking Establishment in Marion was a perfect bar.

It was uncomplicated and unpretentious. It was friendly and familiar, even if it was your first visit. It was, as its name made very clear, a drinking establishment. Not a club or a gastropub or a mixology institute. Owner Kevin Bell and his bartenders filled frosty mugs with cold beer and mixed strong drinks. The popcorn was free. So were Friday afternoon wings, and Guinness stew on St. Patrick's Day.

It was a place to drink and talk and laugh, maybe catch a ballgame or play darts. It was that comfortable, relaxed spot you look forward to visiting after work. It was a place where people celebrated, reunited and met new friends. It was a small-town spot in a town that's no longer so small.

It was, as I said, a perfect bar.

Yes, you noticed my use of ‘was.'

Bill's closed for good last weekend, ending a run that began, as its neon sign said so prominently, in 1969. The bar moved to its current location on Seventh Avenue in Uptown Marion during the 1980s. On Thursday, auctioneers sold just about everything in the joint from its bar stools and its 28-degree beer cooler to its vintage signs and railroad town memorabilia.

For me, the news was a jolt. Why close a perfect bar?

'I'm just not renewing my lease. Eighteen years is enough,” Kevin told me before the auction.

'I'm going to take some time off, do a lot of kayaking and fishing. Try that thing they call a vacation. I heard it's pretty nice,” he said.

OK, I can't argue with that. I can't blame a guy for wanting a change of scene after 18 years, even if it means shutting down my favorite Marion joint. Looking around at all the memorabilia yet to be sold, I asked him what mementos he planned to keep.

Nothing, he said.

'It's just stuff. That's all it is,” Kevin said.

But then there's the important stuff, the stuff you do keep.

'I just remember a lot of good times with friends, a lot of people you meet over 18 years' time. It's been pretty nice,” Kevin said.

Some of those folks made a point of showing up at Bill's during the last few weeks, as news spread of the bar's end. Kevin played it close to the vest.

'I don't want a three-month funeral. I mean, the last two weeks were tough enough,” he said.

I first walked into Bill's on a raw, rainy weeknight in November of 2007. I was living in an empty house in north Marion, along with a TV, coffee maker, camp chair and an air mattress. I had just started a new job. My family had yet to move from Ames. I had no idea how things would work out, but at least my new home base had a good place to grab a few beers.

In the years since, my wife and I would meet frequently at Bill's on Friday afternoons to reconnect after a hectic week. The place filled up around us, with folks we recognized from our kids' school or the grocery store or the Maid Rite up the street.

Kevin hosted all sorts of special events, class reunions, birthdays, retirement parties. My wife threw me a surprise party for my 40th birthday in Bill's backroom.

Needless to say, a lot of people in Marion are going to miss Bill's. You'll probably see those poor, thirsty folks wandering aimlessly on Friday afternoons. OK, maybe not.

At least the old place went out with a decent bang.

A week ago Saturday, Bill's marked 'Halfway to St. Patrick's Day,” an annual event that, in this case, was the bar's swan song. Kevin opened at 10 a.m. and remained open until the beer had all but run out, around 4:30 p.m. He left the door unlocked one more time for his Saturday night regulars, people who came to Bill's on '50 out of 52” Saturdays.

'It was busy. It was a good day to go out on,” Kevin said.

By now, Bill's fans are wondering why I have failed to mentioned the famous Whaler. Others are wondering what is a famous Whaler?

'I always say it's a potent, yet refreshing, citrus cocktail,” Kevin said. 'And the second one always tastes better than the first one.”

The Whaler is Kevin's cocktail calling card, and the recipe is top secret. Many have sipped the drink like CSI analysts, attempting to discern its mysterious components. On the final Saturday, patrons downed the final batch of Whalers by noon. But will the end of Bill's really mean the end of the Whaler?

'I'm taking that with me. It's always good to have some type of intellectual property,” Kevin said. 'You could give people the recipe and they still wouldn't make it right.”

When he's not paddling or fishing, Kevin will be sticking around his hometown. At this point he has no plans for what's next. I asked him if he's done with the bar business. 'Never say never,” he said.

But Bill's is done. By Thursday afternoon, the bar was cleaned out. Its friendly, well-worn bar stools were being loaded into a pickup truck in the alley.

I'll follow Kevin's lead and avoid a sentimental ending. It was only a bar, after all. But it was perfect.

l Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@thegazette.com