Petaluma’s Past: 80 Years at the Buckhorn Tavern

Eighty years ago, a 34-year-old Petaluman named Merv McCoy borrowed $800 bucks from his brother-in-law, got a bank loan, and had a building constructed at 615 South Main St.

He then installed both an on-sale and off-sale liquor license in a new saloon he would call “The Buckhorn.”

The grand opening was Aug. 8, 1938.

Merv McCoy had worked for McNear Milling as a truck driver for years, but also had happily moonlighted as a bartender around town and had always wanted his own place, and he got it.

The year 1938 was a significant one in the Country.

Unemployment had hit an unbelievable high of 19 percent! The minimum wage was just 40 cents an hour, and a monstrous flood had hit L.A., killing 115 and wiping out 5,600 homes. Internationally, news was even worse, with Adolf Hitler’s Nazis invading Austria, the Spanish Civil War raging, and Japan declaring war on China.

World War II was just around the corner.

However, although the National and International news was scary, Petaluma was enjoying the fastest business growth of any city in California (14.8 percent), with liquor sales leading the way.

Merv McCoy wanted a piece of it.

To justify his tavern’s name, he placed numerous deer, moose and elk trophies on the walls, plus a couple of eagles, for good measure. All of those - plus more - are still there today. Merv wanted The Buckhorn to reflect the good old times of the classic hunting cabin, so he lined the walls and ceiling with knotty-pine paneling.

And the restrooms?

Naturally, they are labeled “Does” and “Bucks.”

Well, the Buckhorn very quickly became a great local watering hole and, in addition to the folks from The Kresky Co. right around the corner, Henri’s Roofing just up the street, and the boys from Jamison Trucking, there were soon a bunch of “Regulars,” including Argus-Courier Columnist Bill Soberanes.

Bill often said that he got his best stories from The Buckhorn.” It was that kind of a place … and still is. The stories you hear in The Buckhorn are fun, exactly the kind you’d hope to get from a small town saloon.

Petaluma’s fast growth in 1938 was mainly a result of the new Golden Gate Bridge, which had been an immediate stimulant to local business, as motorists bought gas here - at 10 cents a gallon - and also stopped to shop. Many travelers discovered that our town was a good place to put down roots and (maybe) commute to San Francisco.

Columnist Herb Caen helped, too.

The year 1938 was his first year at the S.F. Chronicle, and he often touted the good times to be found “over the bridge.” Petaluma real estate values went straight up, as the average 3-bedroom home soared to $2,700!

Petaluma got its new fire station on ‘D’ Street that year, and the dedication brought back memories of our great fire horse, “Black Bart,” and the Knickerbocker engine, which had replaced him in 1915. The new station was designed by architect Brainerd Jones, and cost $37,000 to build.

Also that year, the Petaluma Poultry Producers unveiled their great new headquarters building. It was seven stories high and was called at the time, “Sonoma County’s greatest industrial plant.”

Our big argument of the year was, believe it or not, parallel parking.

The City had ordered all parking to be parallel, and local drivers found it to be more difficult than the diagonal method. The farmers called it a “Vexation!” Merchants demanded the city rescind the resolution. Our Argus editor labeled the public argument, “A nice little scrap.”

But parallel, it seems, was to be … except for Kentucky Street, which opted to retain diagonal parking … on one side. Some opined that Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds” radio program, which scared millions in ’38, had also stunned our City Council in its decision making. But, all that fuss didn’t bother The Buckhorn. Those happy drinkers gave nary a hoot - and besides, there was parking behind the saloon, as well as over on 2nd Street.

Why make waves, when you’re having fun?

Well, on August 18th of this year, the good ol’ Buckhorn will celebrate its 80th, anniversary, with an appropriately sizeable bash.

Bob McCoy took the place over from his Dad, Merv, in the early ’70s, and he and his son, Wes, run the Tavern now. The head bartender is “Sam” Albertoni Lane, but Sam has only been there for 23 years.

The shuffleboards have given way to pool tables, and along the ride, Bob and Wes also branched into McCoy Enterprises, which furnishes coin operated machines all over Sonoma County. But The Buckhorn is still their mother ship, and all are invited to come celebrate on the 18th.

It should be a good party.

Here are a couple of classic Buckhorn tales (among the few I can repeat).

A while back, the head bartender was a lady named Rosie Pompeii. One day, Rosie had gone to the stock room for something, and a young lady at the bar said she would “dance for drinks.” The guys, (including the assistant barkeep), said “YES!” and the lady quickly jumped up on the bar … and started removing clothes. About then, Rosie came back and, with much interesting language, ordered “ALL OUT NOW!”

She also fired the other bartender.

Bob told me, “Nobody messed with Rosie.”

And, here’s a dog’s tail (Sp.).

“Snuffy, The Bar Dog,” lived at the Buckhorn in the ’60s, and would often follow the postman as he went on his rounds. When Snuffy got tired, he would sit and wait till he saw a familiar car and driver, then bark and jump, and hitch a ride home.

Bob says, “Snuffy would help-out with drunks, too.”

And then, there was the time in the ’80s when Bob bought a new cash register and found that it wouldn’t work without a ground wire. So he sent Wes crawling under the building to hook it up. Wes got caught by his belt there, and couldn’t get out.

Much yelling, cussing and floor pounding didn’t help, because the bar had become so noisy by then. A long time passed before the bedraggled (and then beltless) Wes was able to finally work his way out.

His resultant language is another example of stuff I can’t repeat here.

Well, the three McCoys have kept their fun, local tavern alive and hopping.

You need to check out this great ol’ joint yourself.

Tell ’em Skip sent you.

(Historian Skip Sommer is an honorary life member of the Petaluma Historical Museum and Heritage Homes. You can reach him at skipsommer@hotmail.com)