True Tales from Behind the Bar
McShea’s Pub, Narberth:
“Late one night, someone came running inside the bar to say someone was dead on the sidewalk,” says bar manager Teresa Decker. “The guy wasn’t dead; he was just taking a nap. But when someone thinks there’s a body out front, I guess that’s a bartender’s job.”
McNally’s Tavern, Chestnut Hill:
Back in the ’60s, a McNally’s regular asked for a different sort of steak sandwich—one on a kaiser roll stuffed with grilled salami and steak, fried onions, cheese, tomatoes, and special sauce. Contrary to rumor, the Schmitter wasn’t named after the legendary Phillie. “[The guy] didn’t want his name associated with the sandwich, so it was named after his drink of choice: Schmidt’s,” says bartender Maria Hughes.
Bar Savona, Gulph Mills:
During a summer power outage, two businessmen who’d been traveling all day were dying for a meal. “One of our servers with a military background had night-vision goggles in his car,” says Savona mixologist Samuel McCoy. “We strapped those on and
made salads for the travelers.”
The Old Guard House Inn, Gladwyne:
Gladwyne resident Dr. Robert Quigley is an acknowledged expert on the social workings of this esteemed watering hole—so much so that he checks in with bartender Joe Belza and owner Albert Breuers several times a week. Belza is hush-hush about his clientele, but does reveal Allen Iverson’s preference for Amstel Light. “We respect anonymity and loyalty here,” says Belza. And isn’t that so utterly Main Line.