It’s the face of our community, and easily the most prominent historic landmark in town, this time-honored and weathered brick building on Front Street. To see it is like beholding the face of an old friend. This author still remembers seeing his first vintage photograph of Mokena as a five-year-old, an ancient view of this place in Robert Sterling’s seminal A Pictorial History of Will County, and being awed at the age of this old spot. In passing by on a daily basis, I can’t help but to notice, no, to feel the stories of hundreds of Mokenians who have called this place theirs for well over a century, either in maintaining their residence here, running a business at this spot, or just making it a home away from home. It has seen countless comings and goings, and untold beers poured and kegs tapped. It’s none other than 11034 Front Street, the building that is now home to Little Al’s Bar and Grill.
When you have a story as long as this one, the best place to start is at the beginning. Anyone who is a long-time reader of my work will be familiar with the storied Schiek family of Mokena. Among the first settlers of Germanic origin to what would later be Mokena, the Schieks fled their homeland at a time of tumult and revolution and arrived in our neck of the woods in August 1848 via the small village of Neckarbischofsheim, in what is today southwestern Germany. The family unit came as one, made up of patriarch and matriarch Georg Heinrich and Juliana Rosina Schiek, as well as their seven children. Their second oldest then still living, Johann, was born on June 1st, 1825 in the old European hometown. John, as he came to be called after he got settled here, was working the family farm by 1850, and came to maintain a saloon and inn called the Western Hotel in the new town of Mokena with his wife Helena as early as 1859, a mere seven years after the Rock Island railroad was completed.
While he tried his hand at farming again in the period immediately after the Civil War and into the 1870s, eventually coming to own two farms just outside town, the beer and hostelry business lured John Schiek back. In September 1873 Schiek bought a lot in Mokena from Luxembourgers Bernard and Anna Maria Folman for $1,600, which today is the site of Little Al’s Bar and Grill. At the time Schiek came into possession of the property, there was already a building on it, which in all likelihood, was not the structure that stands today. What exactly its function was is lost to the ages, but it appears to have been at least ten years old, and may have been the hotel of the Folmans’ Civil War veteran son, Henry.
What the fate of the original building was, whether Folman or Schiek wrecked it or had it moved, has long since dissolved in the fog of history. However, it’s worth noting that John Schiek lost a building in the village due to an attack of arson in the fall of 1875. Contemporary accounts of the blaze were not made with readers 145 years into the future in mind, and thus they leave no indication where this structure stood in town. Could it be that today’s 11034 Front Street is where this fire happened, and that the current edifice was built to replace the lost one? Without any hard documentation from the time as to these specifics, it all remains open to question.
Another fact that remains elusive at this late date is when exactly today’s building was built. Popular local lore has it that this structure was the first erected in Mokena, but closer examination of this legend reveals it to be confused with an inn built in 1853 by John Schiek’s brother-in-law, Carl Gall, a year after the arrival of the Rock Island railroad. A painstaking examination of property records indicates that Gall’s possession was further west, at the northeast corner of what is today Front Street and Wolf Road, a location that, decades later, local old timers would remember Gall’s inn occupying.
Our structure today is constructed in a style that architects would easily recognize as having vernacular aspects of the Italianate style, featuring elaborately carved wooden bracketed cornices under the building’s front-gabled roof, and tall, narrow windows on the second floor with curved crowns. That these architectural details were in vogue in the American Midwest in the era following the Civil War, would likely place the construction of this building in the time of John Schiek’s ownership of the lot, he likely having built it around 1875 or thereabouts.
Even the clay that makes up the countless bricks in this structure is worthy of note, as it came from a long-forgotten pit near the Rock Island tracks, south of today’s Francis Road, where it was baked in a kiln on site. John Schiek’s beer hall occupied the new building’s first floor. A patron, perhaps a railroad man or a farmhand whose work was done for the week, would have seen the room’s stamped tin ceiling and long, polished bar with a big mirror gracing the back bar. Not unusual in this time were a towel or two hanging off the bar’s edge, a convenience for customers to dab beer froth from their mustaches. He could even expect spittoons on the floor and a brass foot rail on the bar, all complete in the 19th century style. Talk of the harvest, politics and local gossip would’ve abounded within these four, solid walls. As most of the Mokenians of the day were of Germanic birth or heritage, beer would’ve flowed freely here, along with bourbon and rye, also being common drinks of choice in these early years. John Schiek was in good company when he first threw open his doors at this spot, as he was joining the other six saloons in town at that time, all run by fellow Germans.
At around the same time the building was completed, Schiek also conducted a livery stable in Mokena. Whether or not this business ran in conjunction with the saloon, remains an open question.
The new building quickly came to be referred to as the “brick hotel” in the mouths of Mokenians, as rooms were rented out here to those passing through town. As late as the 1970s, one barkeeper claimed remnants of these confined spaces and their wallpaper were still visible in the basement. Two separate, exterior entrances led to the overnight spaces. One was an outside staircase that led down to the basement from the street level just to the west of the main entrance, which over the years, also proved to be a handy delivering spot for barrels of beer. In later years a walk-in cooler stood across from this spot in the basement. Another entry was a doorway to the east of the main entrance that led upstairs to more space for weary travelers. Both of these portals have long since been bricked over.
John Schiek was noted as keeping business in the brick hotel by a Jolietan traveler to our village in 1877, and had the misfortunate to have his chandelier come tumbling down in the summer of 1879. In a colossal understatement, one account described the mishap as “smashing things generally.” Schiek was still at the old stand in 1880, the historic year of Mokena’s incorporation, and a year later, he rented his concern to local farmer Nicholas Marti and William Becker, the town’s doctor. Their tenure slinging beer was short however, for John and Helena Schiek’s oldest son Charles began running the show here right after New Year 1882. In this era, the place was called the National Hotel, and the correspondent to the Joliet Republic, a local known only as Frank, beamed that Charles would “keep a first-class house” and also promised that he’d “give the boys an opening dance.” A short time later, the paper noted that the younger Schiek had settled into the brick hotel, and in giving him some free advertising, said that he “sets a good table, takes care of his friends, and keeps good beer and fine wines and liquors.” That Charles Schiek’s was the place for merry-making in Mokena is plainly displayed by the accounts of the many parties, masquerades and even “grand balls” that were held there throughout the 1880s.
The combination saloon-hotel also served a dual purpose, namely as that of a meeting place. Starting on December 5th, 1883, the Mokena village board under mayor Ozias McGovney began using part of Schiek’s basement to hold their monthly gatherings. For supplying them with space, the town dads paid the saloon keeper $4.50 a month, or around $125 in today’s money. Village elections were also held in the basement from time to time. Imagine Charles Schiek’s disappointment when incoming mayor Noble Jones knocked down the rent to a mere $1.50 a month in the spring of 1884.
The brick hotel could occasionally be a rough and tumble place. Towards the end of July 1880, a local troublemaker named Jacob Weber savagely beat an Irishman for some long-forgotten offense here. Perhaps too romantically referred to as a “youthful desperado” by the Joliet Sun, Weber “kicked and pounded in a disgraceful manner” the unnamed Irish railroad worker, who was too intoxicated to fight back. Lucky for peace and order, Weber was arrested immediately and hit with a $10 fine. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be his last violent offense in the village.
This sometimes-rough atmosphere is further evidenced by a grisly barroom brawl in early March 1891. During this bloodletting, farmer John Huwiler stabbed fellow agriculturist Myron Jordan a trifle above the eye with a knife. The blow was such a severe one, that the blade of the dagger broke off in Jordan’s skull. An old Union soldier, Jordan lived with the blade embedded in his cranium for five ghastly years, until it was finally surgically removed in 1896.
The structure itself was also not free of issues, even in these early years. The village board of health visited the property in November 1881, and in a bewildered report, found that the basement floor was “covered with water” and that a bad leak in the roof had gotten into four upper rooms. They declared the building “in a dangerous condition to live in on account of dampness” and ordered the Schieks to remedy the problems.
John Schiek, the father of this landmark, died of Bright’s Disease complicated by the flu in February 1890. In testament to his prominent standing in the village, as well as his having held a trusteeship in town at his passing, the mayor and village trustees issued a resolution of respect expressing their sorrow over his passing. His mortal remains found their final resting place in St. John’s Cemetery just south of Mokena.
As is the case for many areas of our community’s history, happenings in this location aren’t easy to bring into focus during the 1890s. A lack of hard sources such as local newspapers and clear recollections for this specific portion of the village’s history contribute to this blank spot, these dark ages, on the record of our years. What is known, however, is that during the exciting days of the great World’s Columbian Exposition of Chicago in 1893, the brick hotel was home to a saloon run by Frank Moriarty. Part of a well-known farming family whose acreage was situated just west of Mokena, Moriarty submitted his first dram shop bond to the village in January 1892, and his last in October of the following year. It may not have even been this family’s first foray into business here, as there is evidence that Frank’s older brother, auctioneer Charles Moriarty, may have briefly conducted a watering hole here as early as 1887. Nevertheless, the exact nature of the Moriartys involvement in business here remains hazy, as they appear to have run another saloon further west down Front Street in this same period at the end of the 19th century, and the few extant records of the day don’t differentiate between the two establishments.
The old basement still served as council chambers for the village board during this timeframe, with the arrangement that Frank Moriarty furnish the light in these days before electric illumination beamed in Mokena. By the end of the decade, the board was holding its meetings elsewhere. As if these years couldn’t get any murkier, it is known that by some point in the 1890s, the property came into the hands of George Geuther, member of an old Frankfort Township tribe. What was happening at this location during the Geuther years has been difficult to pin down. It is known that a man from Braceville whose name is alternately recorded as James Powell or Rowell set up a saloon here in 1898, but this, like Frank Moriarty’s venture, appears to have been a very short-lived concern. Within a year, one George Hader opened a barbershop in the basement.
The turn of the 20th century is a very unique time in the story of this place, as it marks the only era in its entire history in which it wasn’t a saloon or an inn. Known around town as Geuther Hall, at least two of Mokena’s churches used the building to hold functions, such as the socials held here by the German United Evangelical St. John’s Church in the fall of 1901, and also the Baptist Sunday school and services that took place at this spot, as this congregation had just lost their own building in a court battle with the local Methodists. Not to be left out, the newly formed and modernly named 20th Century Band held practice here.
A turning point in this landmark’s history dawned when Frank E. Hirsch moved in, taking over the saloon facilities of Charles Miller of Joliet, who had been in business for less than a year. Hirsch welcomed guests to his grand opening on December 15th, 1902, and served a bowl of oysters with every beer on Christmas Day. The first day of business was even noticed by the Joliet News, but it wasn’t necessarily good press. Under the headline “Hilarious Saloon”, the correspondent sarcastically quipped that “if noise and drunkenness are essential to the proper opening of a saloon, it was a success.” Prominent citizens were seen amongst the revelers, and village constable Oscar Klose was even summoned to deal with some “out of town people (who) got into a mix-up.”
An idyll of yesteryear: Frank Hirsch's saloon, circa 1905. (Image courtesy of Richard Quinn)
Frank Hirsch’s start in the watering hole business ushered in a long era of stability, breaking the chain of fleeting enterprises here. From our standpoint in the year 2020, we’d be remiss not to take a closer look at this long-time owner and proprietor, as his family name is one of those writ largest in Mokena’s history. Born on December 29, 1862 in Mokena, the family of his father was one of the few to proudly say that they arrived here on the wild prairie before Mokena was built. After the Rock Island railroad came ten years prior to his birth, Hirsch’s father became a prominent figure in community business circles, owning a store and eventually running the grain elevator. The Hirsches also came into possession of a big farm at the northwest side of today’s Wolf Road and 195th Street, which in later years would be worked by Frank’s brothers, who were considered to be some of the leading dairymen in this region. Frank Hirsch grew up in Mokena, and after marrying local girl Philippine Zahn in 1884, moved to Blue Island and Chicago where he worked as a fireman for the Rock Island, feeding coal into the fireboxes of puffing, soot-spitting locomotives. After being gone from the old hometown for 17 years, the Hirsches moved back to Mokena, where all paths led Frank to saloon keeping.
In Hirsch’s era, as well as those before him, the saloon was strictly the domain of men, with no women being allowed entry as customers, at least not to those of a “proper” upbringing. Inside, the barroom was thick with cigar smoke, a place where local men congregated to engage in dominos or long card games such as skat or euchre. A hearty meal could be had at Hirsch’s as well, with Philippine Hirsch being long remembered for her skills in the kitchen. It would later be recalled that during hunting season, roast raccoon would even be on the menu. An integral part of Frank Hirsch’s life as a saloonist was the annual ice harvest. In the years before modern refrigeration, village tavern owners relied on huge blocks of ice sawed out of Hickory Creek in the dead of winter to cool their beer, which was stored in specially built icehouses to last the whole year. During the cold winter of January 1903, the local crystal was about a foot thick and took Hirsch and his helper Erhardt Oswald two days to cut.
Early on in the Hirsch years, the place was starting to show its age. It got spruced up when two to five feet of crumbling brick along the top of the building were replaced in May 1903. Frank Hirsch installed a new beer cooler in his basement right after, and in the spring of 1912 had a small brick addition built on to the north side of the main structure. Typical of everyday hassles around the bar was the swarm of bees that took up residence in a crevice in the saloon’s window in July 1909. They were back the following March, and said to be “merrily flying about the place.” They were still there in May, when Bill Semmler, Mokena’s correspondent to the Joliet News, said they were “making things interesting” around the old place.
A well-known face around town, Frank Hirsch was elected by his fellow townsmen to the office of village trustee in 1912, an office he held until 1916. With the coming of national prohibition and the passage of the Volstead Act in 1920, history hasn’t left us any details as to how this effected Hirsch and his business, although one source whimsically lists him as a “café owner” in 1928. With the repeal to the 18th Amendment in 1933, he was able to legally sell beer and hard spirits again, and was going as strong as ever. Frank Hirsch hung up his apron in 1941 after 39 years selling beer in the same spot. At this time, he rented the business to his son, Frank Jr. The younger Hirsch held a grand re-opening, modernized the place by adding electric refrigeration, and also opened a special room in the brick building for events.
Yet another juncture in the grand tradition of this location came in the history-making year 1945, at which time Richard and Eleanore Muehler purchased the bar from the Hirsch family, after more than four decades of their ownership. The Muehlers held their opening for the new tavern on May 12th, 1945, at a time when the village and the rest of the country was in a state of euphoria over the end of the Second World War in Europe, the event having only taken place five days previously. Like the Hirsches, the family name Muehler is one that occupies no small place in Mokena’s long history. Richard Arno Muehler was the second owner of this establishment to have been born in Germany, first entering the world on May 16th, 1910 in a town called Frohburg in the country’s east. After being brought to America by his parents at the tender age of three months, the family originally called Joliet home, before settling in Mokena in 1923. Much like his forebear, Frank Hirsch, the 13-year-old would inherit a business tradition in our community, as his father, Martin Muehler, would open a butcher shop a little further east down Front Street the year they moved to town.
Richard and Eleanore Muehler at their Front Street Tavern, circa 1945.
(Image courtesy of Rick Muehler)
When Richard and Eleanore Muehler first took over the old brick tavern in 1945, they and their 4-year-old daughter Barbara lived in what is today the place’s kitchen, while the former inn space on the second floor was being converted into a three-bedroom apartment. Within two years of their start here, Mildred and Tex Morris were running a restaurant in conjunction with the tavern, where 65 cents could get a hungry patron lunch. Later on, a gentleman whose last name was Roman sold pizzas as well.
In the early 1960s, Richard Muehler made some significant improvements around the building, namely sealing off the Front Street-facing basement entrance, and having the large stone platform in front of the main entrance removed, a relic from the days of horse-drawn carriages. One local observer at the time said that Muehler’s was “the hub of many activities” in town, with a fixture at the tavern over the years being feather parties, the name given to lively get-togethers where dressed turkeys and live ducks and geese would be raffled off to attendees. Rick Muehler, the son of proprietors Richard and Eleanore, simply remembers them as “the best time ever.” The turkeys were brought in from a farm in Manhattan, while the live fowl was ferried into Mokena via pick-up truck. On the night of a party, the ducks and geese would all be kept on the building’s back porch until they were handed out to the winners. It wouldn’t be unheard of for 100 boxed turkeys to be raffled off in a night. Rick Muehler remembers the inside of the tavern being so packed on feather party nights that it was hard to walk. During a party, sixty wooden paddles would be sold for $0.25 each, then a wheel would be spun numbered 1 to 60. If the number the wheel landed upon corresponded to a sold paddle, then that patron won a turkey. While Muehler was never awake late enough to see the ducks and geese get dispersed, he does remember that on the morning after, the tavern’s floor would be covered with feathers.
During Mokena’s fabled annual Homecoming celebrations, the Muehlers’ tavern was always a focal point. In addition to the various carnival rides and games that were set up along Front Street, Richard Muehler would build a beer garden in the establishment’s driveway, complete with a big bar and lights strung up. In addition to the usual beverages such as beer and hard liquor, Rick Muehler remembers it being an exciting time for neighborhood kids, as the selection of pop in the beer garden was significantly larger than it normally was at the tavern. During the year, only Coke, 7-Up and Squirt would be on hand, but during Homecoming little bottles of Canfield’s Cherry, Black Cherry, Strawberry, Root Beer, and Cream Soda could be had.
After the infamous Homecoming of 1956, when a tornado-like storm swept into town and toppled a pole that injured a reveler, fest-goers thronged Muehler’s to get out of the weather, and before all was said and done, their soaked clothing left at least a quarter inch of water on the historic building’s floor. At the same time, a large tree in the back yard was struck by lightning, its toppling having the misfortune to crush Rudy and Irene Kurnat’s new Ford auto that they had just won through a drawing sponsored by St. Mary’s church.
After Richard Muehler’s untimely passing in 1965, his widow Eleanore ran the show at the tavern until it was sold to Pete and Ron Michalski in November of 1966. In the earliest years of the 1970s, Bonnie Clegg tried her hand at barkeeping here, wistfully calling the place Bonnie’s Never Inn, or alternately, the Old Hotel Inn. Mokena was still very much a rural place in this era, as it wasn’t unusual for customers to ride up on horses and hitch them up behind the building. After the tenure of Bonnie Clegg, the tavern came into the hands of World War II veterans Dick and Bob Fortman, then it became the property of Joe Walsh, who towards the end of the 1970s, changed the name of the establishment to The Mokena Inn. He sought to usher in an era of change to the old landmark, as the bar had recently been saddled with something of an unsavory reputation. Just after he took over, Walsh recounted that “arguments were (being) settled with fist fights or bottles smashed over unsuspecting heads.” In 1977, he overhauled the place by completely gutting the first floor and lowering the ceiling of the ancient barroom, covering the historic stamped tin that once covered it. He also had the vines scraped off the building, and covered half of each huge front window with board. 20 pounds of bees, an annoyance at this location for at least two generations, if not more, were also removed from a cornice.
In the mid 1980s, the property passed through another set of hands until 1985, when it was sold to Al Pizzato, who promptly opened Little Al’s Bar and Grill in this historic location, which remains open to thirsty customers to this day. He’s been at the old stand for 35 years and counting, and is now a veritable king of Front Street. (Incidentally, this knightly honor is also shared by Bob Braeunig, who in the same year opened Mokena Video on the opposite end of Front Street, also still in operation today)
The old brick hotel, this timeless, priceless landmark, is a font of local flavor and antiquity. This author would like to think that all the faces, voices and tales of years gone by have been retained by the building, all stored in its craggy masonry for eternity. If there was only a way to tap into it like so many kegs have been, we’d be swept away in a tidal wave of Mokena history.
(Special thanks to Rick Muehler, from one Mokenian to another, for his invaluable and enlightening assistance to the author in the writing of this piece.)
Another great piece! Thank you Matt!
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