News From An Historically Important Bar in My Hometown

Check out this story about the Big O Bar in Rice Lake Wisconsin.

http://www.chronotype.com/newarticle.asp?T=L&ArticleID=11327

It was a warm April evening in 1969 when two classmates and I (names removed to protect the guilty) were driving around Rice Lake drinking beer illegally (underaged). Some time after 1:00 am we ran out of beer, but our young thirsts had not been quenched.

It was too late to get our regular stash guy to buy us another 6 pack. Something had to be done but what?

Tom, in his alcohol-induced haze, came up with a grand idea.

"Lets break into the Big O and steal a six pack."

Not being very good at stealing things, we parked my Mustang directly across the street from the bar (hey, we were drunk, and not supposed to be thinking clearly) and then crossed the street. At that time there was the main door that faced west and a side door on the north side of the bar near the back of the building.

We chose the north side rear door.

Steve somehow knew the machinations of breaking in a door and very easily gained access for us. Once the lock was broken (and of course nobody wore gloves) we stepped inside and marveled at the beer cooler sitting there unlocked with all of that nectar waiting to be consumed. But we weren't greedy. All we wanted was one six-pack to finish off the night.

In those days nobody thought of drinking anything but Pabst Blue Ribbon, and thats exactly what we took. One six pack of it.

We really didn't steal it because, on our way out the door, Tom was overcome with a sense of conscience (Catholic guilt creeping in?) and left $1.25 on the bar. The exact cost of a six-pack in those days. So, technically, we didn't really "steal" the six pack. But we did commit breaking and entering.

With our ill-gotten bounty in our hands we raced out of town and went up by Lake Desair to drink it.

I got home at something like 3:30 am or so and was promptly rousted from bed at 5:30 to go out and milk cows. Finishing our chores about 7 that morning we went in the house for breakfast and during it, as tradition would require, we listened to the news with Dick Kaner on WJMC radio in Rice Lake.

Munching on my eggs I heard Dick lead off the news with some breaking information. "Rice Lake police are investigating a break in at the Big O bar sometime over night."

My fork was almost to my mouth and it remained there in suspended animation while I thought to myself "oh shit."

Dick went on in excruciating detail to report what the Rice Lake police had found about this crime. "Apparently" Dick said "nothing was taken from the bar and all the money remained in the till."

My dad was known to frequent the Big O bar on more than a couple occasions. He sat across from me at the table slowly chewing his food and then finally at the end of the news piece said "I hope they catch the sons-a-bitches."

His son, who was one of the "sons-a-bitches," sat across from him thinking "you just called mom a bitch!! I was also hoping they wouldn't catch those sons-a-bitches.

And they never did.

Twenty-seven years later in 1996 when I went home for my mom's funeral, I went to the Big O to confess. I told the bartender (a very important and revered job in Wisconsin by the way) about our crime that night. I didn't mention the names of my co-conspirators. The bartender, who probably wasn't even born the night we broke in, didn't have a clue what I was talking about but he was impressed by my latent honesty and bought me a beer for telling him.

Thats one of the highest honors that can be bestowed on a Wisconsinite....someone buying you a beer. And its even more important when its done for having committed a crime to get the beer in the first place.