(Photo/Josh Williams)
Some people simply do not understand the profound significance in the loss of Kelly’s Saloon and the bizarre history across the Valley with fellow landmark establishments that were also destroyed by fire.
I see the loss of Kelly’s as the passing of a beloved pet, and for those of you who have loved and lost an animal you understand how sad that is.
Whoever you were when you walked into Kelly’s, it didn’t matter. It was a chance to be ‘off the grid.’ You could have a beer or cocktail, listen to some good, live hometown music, and most importantly listen to people talking about everything but themselves. For my friends and I, that’s why we all went there, to finally get a break from people constantly selling themselves to others. The spirit of Kelly’s was about more then just having a drink. The Saloon was about telling funny stories, sharing ancient myths of the valley, and minding your own business.
During the community’s mourning stages for Kelly’s bar and culture, friends brought up points like this to me: part of Kelly’s magic was that no one would go to work Monday morning gossiping about who they saw drinking there, because that would mean admitting that they themselves were drinking at Kelly’s.
Kelly’s aura was built around deep humility. The building owner is a humble, hardworking man, Mr. Steve Burnette. Kelly’s longtime owners, the Roomes, are all incredibly humble and hardworking as well. Mr. Roome would arrive at Kelly’s on a daily basis to turn on the lights, survey the damage from the night before, have a cup of coffee, and read the paper. Other then a neighborly ‘hello’ we said few words to each other. When I would dump buckets of water on my shop’s doorstep at 75 Main, washing away whatever colored vomit of Kelly’s juice was served the night before from the sidewalk, I truly didn’t mind. Kelly’s was actually a huge opportunity to get the local headlines to the community, and I hung a TV screen in my window showing the homepage of the GeneseeSun.com so the smokers and those who were about to be sick could read the local news from the sidewalk.
I miss Kelly’s. I miss watching Buzzo cross the street for a drink, and I miss listening to the local musicians on Tuesdays’ open mic nights in peace. Kelly’s was rarely the center of fighting and mischief. Of course there were occasional issues between customers, but everyone knew that Kelly’s was not the place to start or end any feud.
To those who think of Kelly’s as ‘just another dive,’ think of it like this: Kelly’s was a door through which anyone could walk and be greeted with love, compassion, respect, and likely a friendly bar dog wagging their tail.
We have lost many iconic establishment in our valley, and Kelly’s leaves a unique footprint and a legacy equal to the Avon’s White Horse Inn and Conesus Lake’s Livingston Inn – both of which also met their end in fire.