Courtesy of our friends at The Storm Lake Times--Dec. 30, 2016
The day the music lived
Patrons rise to Byron Stuart’s aid to preserve Iowa groove shrine
Over $6,000 raised to keep Pomeroy bar boogying
By Art Cullen
Byron Stuart has reason to celebrate New Year’s Eve, not for the money but for all that love.
He is the owner of a funky little bar — Byron’s Bar, of course — in
downtown Pomeroy that is a legend in Iowa music circles for giving
succor and an appreciative audience to starving road minstrels over the
past 21 years on early Sunday evenings.
The bar has been having a
bit of a hard time this year. Another bar opened in the town of 600 in
July. Byron has felt it in the cash register. It stings. Plus, his
building dates to 1893. The roof was leaking. If you set a pool ball on
the floor near the bar it will roll into the bathroom on its own.
So it could use a little work.
That’s where Byron’s friends came in. Ree Irwin of Sac City and Roger
Feldhans of Pomeroy made copies of Byron’s face and transformed them
into masks. They put them on a popsicle stick and sold them. On
Halloween, Amelia White and Sergio Webb of Nashville played while the
crowd dressed like Byron in tie-dye shirts and pastel-color overalls and
held their masks. Byron was overwhelmed with a $2,000 contribution.
“It brings me to tears just talking about it,” Byron said.
“But it was the best-looking crowd I have seen.”
Then, in late December Byron’s friend Todd Partridge of Auburn — front
man for the band King of the Tramps — organized a social networking
fundraiser on the Internet. The goal was $5,000. As of Wednesday total
contributions topped $6,000. In just 10 days.
Musicians from all
over the nation sent in donations. Bruce Katz, who played keyboards for
the Allman Brothers Band and for the Butch Trucks Band, chipped in
along with dozens of others from Austin to Boston to Nashville.
Byron received contributions from people who had never even been there.
One man from Houston, Tex., sent a check for $815 when he heard that the
drive was $815 short of $5,000. He had never met Byron, but the man’s
brother is a regular for the Sunday shows.
“I’m living the dream I never knew I had,” Byron said.
Never did he think, working on the family farm just out of Iowa State
University, that he would be listening to the great Woodstock band
Canned Heat in his bar for his 50th birthday. They called him, asking if
they could play Byron’s. They heard that it was the groove center of
the world from another musician who played there. For $500 and a motel
room in Rockwell City, Canned Heat rocked Pomeroy.
Byron had
sort of been knocking around the greater Pomoeroy-Knoke region when the
bar came up for sale. He took it over and shortly thereafter friend
Larry Myer of Havelock suggested that he could play there. Byron said
okay. Myer introduced him to Rob Lombard, another Iowa musician who
played the place. All the while Byron was decorating with photos of
Jerry Garcia, memorabilia of the Grateful Dead and tie-dyes by Roger.
It became “the hipness center of the universe,” in the words of
keyboardist Katz, who also had heard about Byron’s from his home,
actually at Woodstock, and asked Byron if he could play there. You could
have knocked Byron over with a feather boa, which he has been known to
wear.
The thing snowballed. What was an occasional music gig
turned into twice a month. This year Byron has had 61 shows — most of
them from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. on Sunday, and a few on Saturday nights.
His roster of artists is a list of rising stars in Americana music,
bluegrass, funk, folk and even ragtime. Todd Snider, the reigning king
of alt-country, played there in 2001. Freakbass out of Cincinnati played
there this year, and is considered one of the hottest acts in a
resurging funk/soul scene.
“It’s the vibe,” Partridge said of
why musicians go so far off the beaten path go get to Byron’s. “You walk
in the door and everybody is tuned in to what you’re doing. You can’t
really put your finger on it. And, he treats the musicians so darn
nice.”
Partridge said many of his patrons and musicians suddenly
realized, “Wow, we could lose this place if we don’t help him get over
this hump. This place is in our back yard. It’s personal for us. I don’t
think another place would pop up in Northwest Iowa if Byron’s weren’t
here.”
Indeed not. For Byron, it’s a labor of love. He considers
it a victory when he can clear $100 from one of his Sunday shows. It’s
not exactly a drinking crowd.
“They come here to listen, not to get drunk and talk,” Byron said.
They are doctors, bankers, lawyers, hermits, bikers, professors,
hippies, farmers, women in peasant dresses, men in stovepipe hats,
politicians and castabouts.
They pay $10 for a ticket, which
gets them a free drink or two free cans of pop plus a chance to win one
of Byron’s door prizes. The most prized are framed photos made by
Byron’s friend Roger Feldhans. A biker from Bode who brings his little
dog Clyde every Sunday (Clyde has to sit outside on the motorcycle,
where patrons shower him with affection) offers intricate carvings that
Byron gives away.
Byron anguishes over raising prices because he
doesn’t want to turn anyone off. A pizza is just over $6. The barmaids
work for tips and have been with him from Day One. Often you see them
dancing behind the bar together.
Sometimes Byron takes a bath
when the weather turns bad and 20 people show up. Most of his crowd
comes from a 60-mile radius of Pomeroy. But he keeps forging on, trying
to stay afloat. He already has acts booked every Sunday through April.
And these are not your brother’s garage bands.
He had a ukelele
player. A zither player. A digeredoo player. A band named Spongecake and
the Fluff Ramblers whose van broke down the minute they showed up at
Byron’s faded front. They went in to play like it was Fillmore East, and
shoved off to their next gig in a borrowed livestock trailer. The Paper
Moonshiner lady sang through a glittered megaphone. Her partner sang a
better version of “Gentle On My Mind” than the Original John Hartford.
Most important, Byron supports Iowa musicians. Chad Elliott and David
Zollo adore him. Joe and Vickie Price stay at his house. Brother Trucker
considers itself Byron’s House Band. Bryon prays that Greg Brown and
Iris Demint will play there someday.
“I’m addicted to music,” Byron confessed. “I just have to keep doing this.”
So he will celebrate. This Saturday, around 8 p.m., Partridge will
show up with his band and rip into a song about a dude from Lohrville
who pulls a tooth with a pliers from his overalls. Byron expects a
Grateful Dead cover song from this outfit. Patridge says he is working
on a song about Byron, but whether he plays it Saturday depends on how
loose the King and the crowd get. They could get pretty loose this time.
That’s all Byron really wants in life. They will play until they can’t
anymore, and for $10 you could be in that groove that a keyboard player
from Woodstock found one recent night. Just go to Pomeroy and search
for the vibe. You can’t miss it.
New Year’s Eve at Byron’s
Time: “8-ish” to midnight or better
Band: King of the Tramps, playing a rock-blues style they call “Whiskey Gospel”
Tickets: $10 at the door, includes free drink and chance at door prize