Old time tavern at old time prices. 100 years of hospitality. A place to relax or good comaraderie.
Maryann Ignatz never figured on being part of the family business. She wasn't allowed in the place.
A taproom filled with railroaders and foundry men was no place for a young woman in the 1950s and 60s.
"You could come in with your wife but there was never women hanging around here," said Ignatz, whose great-grandfather established Steve's Cafe at 766 S. Main St. in Phillipsburg in 1915. "It was a working man's bar."
Things changed in 1977 when Ignatz's father Steve — the third-generation owner — was stricken and died at age 64.
Maryann Ignatz gave up her teaching job in the Easton Area School District and with her mother, Mary, took over the place that survived the Great Depression, Prohibition and the retreat of manufacturing jobs from the proud, blue-collar town in Warren County.
"I'm doing what I love," said Ignatz, 68. "It's so much a part of my life. Everybody knew where Steve's was at one time, but times change."
Splendid centennial
On Wednesday, the Phillipsburg Area Chamber of Commerce will recognize Steve's with its Milestone Award, marking its 100th anniversary, at Marianna's Restaurant in Phillipsburg.
Ignatz's great-grandfather Steve bought the tavern along the old Morris Canal in 1915 when it was called the Morris House. For years, it relied on workers from the nearby Pennsylvania Rail Line and Ingersoll-Rand for business.
In 1951, Steve's underwent a major renovation that used pieces of the old freight track to buttress the tavern floor. Other upgrades included a new bar, stools from a town sweet shop, knotty pine walls from Pickel's lumber yard in Bloomsbury and a sparkling red Coca-Cola ice box to keep bottled beer cold.
They're all still there, frozen in time — like a museum to the shot-and-beer joints of old. Old family photos and historical mementos adorn the walls.
Ignatz opens the place now — it's just past Andover Morris Elementary School — when she feels like it and sponsors events for historians and firefighters.
'Old-time tavern. Old-time prices.'
On Friday night, some of her old friends from the Phillipsburg High School Class of 1964 stopped by to celebrate Steve's centennial.
"She's worked hard all her life," said Anthony Piperata, a classmate and retired teacher and school administrator. "Not a lot of us are drinkers, but we drink Coke and look at the pictures and have a good time."
Ignatz smiles when asked what it costs for a drink. Five bucks will get you two bottled beers and a shot of Wilson rye.
"Old-time tavern. Old-time prices," she said.
Everyone has a phone in their pocket today, but not during the golden years at Steve's. The bar didn't have a phone, which Ignatz said may have contributed to its allure.
"You couldn't be found," she said. "The wives knew in an emergency to call the butcher shop across the street. He'd run the message over."
Phillipsburg once boasted 54 taverns, Ignatz said, and Steve's became one of the busiest in the 1950s when her father hatched a deal with the Horlacher brewery in Allentown.
"Before that, everybody had Ballantine," she said. "With the deal he cut, others in town couldn't get Horlacher's on draught. He ran it 100 percent. You couldn't get anything but Horlacher's. They took good care of him, and he moved the product for them."
At its height, the little tavern ordered 95 full barrels a month, with bartenders sliding 16-ounce mugs across the bar for 15 cents apiece.
"It was all walks of life — everybody — and they'd be three-deep at the bar," she said.
Undeterred by Prohibition
Some of the history isn't available for public consumption.
"Between you and me now, we're just talking," Ignatz says to signal a visitor that what she's about to relate is off the record.
But she still manages to offer up gems of history, like how her grandfather Steve managed to keep the business afloat during Prohibition as a speakeasy.
"The way I was told, grandpop would get his stuff by car," she said. "The seat had a false bottom and he would sit granny and three kids on it and he'd pick up booze from Montana Mountain and Allentown."
Her mother and father met at the old Rakoczi Hungarian Club in Phillipsburg. They wed in 1939 and instilled in their daughter the importance of family and history, which still surrounds her today. Her mother died in 2005 at age 91.
Besides the bar business, Ignatz's dad was known for his band, Steve and the Night Owls. He was an expert violinist and played all over the Lehigh Valley.
"My mother caught his eye one night at the Hungarian club," she said. "Every time she danced by he hit her on the head with a fiddle bow. Kinda nice the old time ways, you know it?"
Ignatz said she'd get silver dollars from customers when as a little girl she'd sneak into the barroom from the adjoining family home. It wasn't all that long ago that she cashed 33 of those coins into the bank, she said.
Ignatz said she's been flattered and energized by the recent attention paid by old friends and the chamber of commerce. She's a little sheepish about making an acceptance speech Wednesday, but expects to deliver her words from the heart.
"I love people," she said. "And I loved having the camaraderie in a bar like this. It's hard to explain.
"All these years later, I feel very privileged that I got to be here with so many of the customers. It was well worth it. It was a great life. We looked out for each other. It's just a lot of memories."
