I inquired of the bartender what was the soup of the day at Abel Conklin’s, at the corner of West Carver and New Streets. The Greek overheard and approached me from the manager’s station.
The Greek is Jimmy the Greek Varelas (Varelas means barrelmaker, like, “Cooper” in English). The Greek said to forget the soup; we were lunching at Canterbury Ale’s, instead, with Dana Cornell Riggs, who owns Abel Conklin’s.
This did not seem especially odd to me. I blend easily with narcotics detectives, hooligans and restaurateurs, and I know that, out of mutual respect and admiration, they habitually visit each others’ respective lairs, but rarely with such ceremoniously declared announcement. Suspecting a celebration, I asked the occasion.
The year 2007 marked the 30th anniversary of Canterbury Ales, which Riggs and John Byers had inaugurated, following the proliferation of young people’s taverns and saloons in a Huntington still reeling from the sucking sound of the commercial energy vacuumed out of town by the success of the Walt Whitman Mall. We were going to visit owner Billy Hoest and toast the anniversary of Huntington’s best known, longest lasting, English pub.
On Christmas Eve of 1977, Billy Hoest had just turned 19. Riggs hired him to check ID’s at the door and determine with legal certainty that the females entering the place were 21 years old, and the males, 22. One male patron didn’t like the idea that a 19-year-old was in the position of demanding proof of his having attained the age of 22. He took such permanent umbrage to it that one day during the following summer, he aimed his motorcycle at pedestrian Hoest and ran him down.
Hoest had long hair and a long beard at the time, and Riggs asked if he would dress as Santa Claus. Hoest complied. He worked the door and drank for free, until around 2am, when the knowingly smirking bartender handed Hoest what would be his last Black Russian of the night. Minutes later, Hoest dashed out back and involuntarily returned the drink to the earth, along with many of the other Black Russians he had dispatched, and some partially digested food, as garnish.
Canterbury Ales flourished, a bar in each of two rooms, sometimes with a band in one of them, sometimes my favorite band, The Jim Small Band, with percussionist Jimmy the Greek Varelas playing the conga drums. Hoest went away to Colorado State University, where his sons currently study (We all hope.), and returned to spend summers first as a bar-back at Canterbury Ales and then as a bartender. During two subsequent years of study (in ornamental horticulture) at Doylestown Valley College, in Doylestown, PA, he returned home every weekend to work in the restaurant.
“It made my Mom angry,” Hoest recalled recently. “She had gone back to school and become a nurse in Huntington Hospital, but I was making more money on a weekend—all in cash—than she grossed in a whole week.
“When I graduated,” Hoest recalled, “I went to work for John and Dana, while I was looking for a job in my field. All the jobs in my field were paying a starting salary of about $20,000. John and Dana had started Canterbury Ales in Oyster Bay by that time, and they offered me $30,000 a year to be one of the managers of both places. I said, ‘Sure.’ I worked three nights a week in each place.
“That was from 1982 to 1985,” Hoest remembered. “Then, one of their employees moved up to Burlington, VT. I visited him and bought a house near there with the idea that we would open a Canterbury Ales in Burlington. In the meantime, I said to Dana one morning, half-joking, I think, ‘If you ever want to sell this place, let me know.’ He said, ‘Really? Make an offer.’ Well, I had been doing their books for the last year or two, so I threw out a number. He said he would talk to John and get back to me. They called me a few hours later from the Oyster Bay store and said, ‘Let’s sit down with a lawyer and work out a deal.’
“I said, ‘Well, hold on a minute. I don’t have any money.’ I didn’t have money. I didn’t have a lawyer, and I was not very savvy. We used the same attorney, which years later I learned is not a good thing to do.
Hoest was dating Kari Morimoto at the time, daughter of Noriko and Nori Morimoto, who have owned the Kura Barn restaurant for more than 30 years. Hoest confessed that he used to finish up at Canterbury Ales and visit Kura Barn with his sister, Molly, and flirt with Kari, who would have none of the flirtation, because he clearly already was accompanied by either a wife or a girlfriend. Once they cleared up the confusing detail, the romance began. Hoest casually mentioned to Kari that he might buy Canterbury Ales.
“Dana and John asked for only $50,000 down payment,” Hoest said. “I went to my wealthy cartoonist father, who was re-married to a wealthy woman, and asked for a loan. They turned me down. I then approached to my mother, who owned her house outright, and I asked her to take out an equity loan of $50,000 that I would pay back. Within three months, I owned Canterbury’s.
Dana, The Greek, and Billy and I celebrated the 30th anniversary of Canterbury Ales and Hoest’s 22nd year as owner over lunch, a few months ago. Friday, Oct. 31st, was the 21st anniversary of ABEL Conklin’s.
This is a good town. |
