5.7.08 // It must have been 1990. New Year's Eve. I had been on the wagon for about a year and was feeling pretty good - still just a little squeemish about the notion of being in a bar, but greater than that squeemishness was my desire to play some live music. I called up Patrick Winningham somewhere around Christmas and he invited me down for a "hoot" on New Year's Eve.

The "hoot" consisted of a guy named Mark playing drums (a guitar player by trade playing a borrowed kit). Andy played lead guitar (a geeky looking guy who was brilliant). Pat singing and strumming. Maybe C. Gillingham on keys, then me on harp. Our band had the opportunity to really gel over the on-stage handshakes before we started. "Hey." "Hey."

As we loaded into the first number Pat turned around said to us, "slow blues in A... Marty, make 'em cry." It was about 10pm. We rocked... played for about an hour, at which time Pat shut it down and told the raucus NYEve crowd we'd be back in about a half hour.

11:30... 12:00... 12:15...

12:30 we finally went back on. As we took the stage Pat's genius showed itself. He huddled us up and had to yell over the crowd. "Boys, let's give 'em some Brown Sugar." As the opening chords emerged, the Utah erupted... I mean it was COMING APART. Girls started dancing on tables; the whole place was singing along in one giant drunken slobber of fun and music and frenzy; and for just this one moment — frozen in my clearest memory — Mick and the boys had nothing on us.

Cheers.

Martin Carroll

4.17.08 // Today is my 65th birthday. I met Paul Gaer 40 years ago when he was the roommate of the father of my children. When Paul died I was asked to give his eulogy.

In 1979 I received a call from Paul asking me to come to SF to manage his bar. I accepted and got into my stupid VW and drove to SF. Among other things, I immediately gave instructions to all the bartenders to pour a 4 count instead of a 3. Within a week, the place was three deep including gays, locals, and a whole slew of new clients that I was — unknowingly/illegally — giving a free forth drink. The place was hopping!

Three months later I quit and moved to LA to start law school. I passed the bar, practiced as a defense attorney for the poor for 14 years, and am now living in Guaanajuato, Mexico.

Paul Gaer was a man who shaped my life. And the history of the Hotel Utah should be preserved. The back bar was build in Holland in 1850, shipped to Australia until it was shipped to SF for the Hotel in 1908. The Hotel Utah was one of many hotels named after U.S. states so that people from those states could go there and meet friends and collect their mail.

Through thick and thin, I will always remember Paul as numero uno (fighting for first place with my brother-in-law for 10 years, John Phillips (I am Michelle Phillips's sister)). Did you know that Paul's father was the Secretary of the Treasury under Roosevelt? (I think) That Paul was married to Al Capone's daughter for ten years?

Una sonrisa, Anna

2.18.08 // A few summers ago I was at the Utah with a group of friends and let's just say I'd had my fair share to drink :) The Heather Combs Band was playing and for whatever reason I decided I wanted/needed to get up on stage and play the tambourine.... Heather was incredibly gracious; she let my drunk ass up on stage, introduced me to the crowd and I did indeed play the tambourine with the band for a couple songs! It was a blast, and to this day my friends still refer to me as "Tambourine Girl"! Thanks and cheers Utah!!!
—Suzanne

1.29.08 // I remember the stage at the Hotel Utah being the setting in 1979 for a live radio program called "Sitting Around the Kitchen Table." A guy named Jim was the host. I particularly remember one evening when the guests were Susan Van Zandt talking astrology and her good friend, Henry, playing guitar with David Canzone.
—MaryAnn Lis-Simmons

Remembering our dearly departed
Doug "Doogan" Flier:

3.16.07 // Let's drink to the hard workin' people.
Doogan, my buddy, gonna miss ya. Save me a stool at your new bar.

—KB

5.29.07 // Doogan, I always looked forward to you coming in to make the happy hour so much happier. Thanks for helping make the Utah what it is today.
—Rick McDonald
Hotel Utah GM 1988–1994

3.19.07 // le doog, le doog
i can't believe that this has happened... to you, to us all, to your sweet momma, to your surrogate family ken and cindy and your wonderfully gifted godchild.... it was not so many days ago you would be on your way back from lawrence—a success, finally, in your mind—but you have always been a raging success in mine... you definitely were one of my favorite people on the planet. now you are my favorite person in the cosmos. fuck, doog, this isn't right. i'll remember everything you taught me (fucking hoo-wars) and try to maintain the musical excellence in your honor (this is my house—the fall) this was your house... our house... what a true and fortuistic pleasure i've had being your humble servant these past years... i will really miss you for so many real reasons... did you send those jayhawk fans? thanks, they were good tippers... btw, we'll get'em next year. rawk-jawk jay hawks!!!
—amandroid

1.18.07 // I think we played in SF 3 times this past summer. Every time I visit The Utah I feel like I'm returning home. There always seems to be someone from our first visit 3 years ago there. It's a great refuge for us arizonians who are intimated by the hilly streets. Thanks God for the HU!!
—Mike Montoya

12.14.06 // well i was in sf from phx az, to play our last show of our west coast tour, somehow we got free rooms in the hotel utah. I was heading up to my room to take care of some biz and found some guy in my room playing my guitar. I was like wha the fuck is this guy doing playig my shit. someone in the room was all dude that Anton, I was like who the fuck is Anton. He was all the brian jonestown massacre dude. I had heard the band name from my friend reggie who played guitar in the bjm. so Anton ends up knowing my drummer through some friends and they talk about dungeons and dragons for a few hours. we played a great show. then hit the streets begging for gas money. its funny nobody in sf had any money to help us with gas, but everyone got enough cocaine to give you a heart atack. well it was a blast the bartender was real cute made us some good food. see you next time.
—kill Baby Kill

9.21.06 // I began performing at the Hotel Utah in 1997 when Cheri ran the open mike — followed by Donna Jean Castro, Matt Foster, Dayla Soul, Bob O'Magic, El Zakador, and now the prince, JJ Shultz. Seven hundred plus consecutive performances on that little stage provided a deep growth experience that I call The Naked Underground. What else compares to the community, support and friendships one finds there? May your juicy bubbles of sound continue to effervesce and ascend for many years to come.
Affectionately, Jeseppi Trade Wildfeather (pictured with Denise)

5.13.06 // the utah... it is a place we all go to, to find whatever it is we need at that point. it's a place of non-judgement and a respite from the world. it's our superman's fortress of solitude, but with people around. it was monday nights for me at the utah many years ago i cherished so much that on tuesdays i was looking forward to mondays.
—paul kirchner

11.28.05 // The Hotel Utah is a place that seems beyond timeless to me. Yes, the characters' names change, but the characters remain. The last time I stopped in, I was picking up art from a gallery I'd shown in near Alameda. I needed to cool down and I was hoping to run in to Rebecca, the bartender. Looking for that sweet smile and an Anchor Steam, I cooled my jets over "the world's best burger" (they are, folks!)... and a different barmaid. A new smile and the background of bumper to bumper traffic across the bridge was great visual entertainment, as usual for a Friday early afternoon. A few construction workers drifted in and out and downed a few shots, all the while I was philosophizing with the new bartender and feeling nurtured.... yeah, nurtured. Where can you get anything close to that in this world? At a bar, the Hotel Utah.
—ToeKnee

10.18.05 // I've been coming to the bar, off and on, for the past
30 years. The characters' names have changed, but the characters haven't. I call it the place where blue bloods, blue hairs, and blue collars can mingle. A lot of attitude is checked at the door.
— Matt

07.18.05 // 'Round about 4th of July in 2003, I was turning 50 & thought it was time to play out at the local open mic. Soon thereafter I met Mr. Lee Mallory and the rest, as you may already know, is history. Did you know Lee's mom lit out from Utah (the state) on a troop train during WWII, came to Berkeley, drove a cab, hooked up with another cabbie and gave us the great Lee Mallory? (Now you know. Running away from home to pursue a dream must have been a family tradition.) Be kind to cabbies. Support Live Music. And remember to tip your bartender! Photo: Nina Jo Smith and Lee Mallory in Murphys, California, by Chrysara, 2005.
— Nina Jo Smith

05.10.05 // My dear friend Dan's band, Blue Max, was headlining. He was kind enough to ask our trio, Loaded Boxers, to open for them. It was Friday the 13th, so the theme was Triskaidekaphobia. Dan made some posters and decorations including some "Jason" masks, and I dressed as a school girl like a typical victim in "Friday the 13th" (I guess it was a stretch because no one got the outfit).
At the end of our set, we needed to kill some time because the next band wasn't ready yet. We were out of songs, so Russ the guiarist started playing "Rubber Ducky." Billy the bass player took a mouthful of water and started doing a gargle solo but choked on the water, so I went up and finished it off for him.
We are happy to see the Utah is back in business!
— Lisa

01.30.05 // Went to the Ann Arbor folk music festival on Friday, where Vienna Teng happened to be playing. Took me about 30 seconds to realize that this is the same girl I heard at the Utah one night. She sounded just as good, except this time she had an audience of a few thousand instead of 23 people.
— Cheese-o-licious

03.02.04 // Hey San Fran! This is KT’s mom! You know KT; she’s that tall, willowy, green-eyed beauty of a bartender who’s been serving you all those wonderful drafts! My connection with the Utah goes back to the summer of ‘99. It was my very first visit to your fair city, and the first time in four years that I had seen my baby girl! Given tight money situations and circumstances, getting a chance to come home was impossible for KT and not easy for either her Dad or I. But that June we made it happen. Coming in from the airport, I was anxious and worried, I hadn’t seen KT; she’d sent her boyfriend to pick me up; “You’ll like this place,” he said as we walked down the block through a neighborhood that made my eyebrows fly up to my hairline!!! At that time, the Utah’s surroundings were less than savory — or so it seemed to these mid-western eyes. And then there it was — “WOW! Now THIS is San Francisco!” I thought, taking in that wonderful old building that just screamed Old California! It was beautiful. Then of course the sight of my sweet girl along with all of her friends, the entire establishment and various lookers-on there to meet and greet KT’s mom, made the setting even more spectacular. To some the Utah may be just another old building, a rundown old bar, not worth very much at all. But you see, the Utah will always be, in one way or another so special to me because of the special people who made my first night in San Francisco a sweet memory. Thanks Utah — and ya’ll remember to be good to my Baby Girl!
Love, Mom

04.13.03 // Well it was the last week of April and I was in San Francisco for a mini-reunion with a few of my oldest friends when they practically dragged me to the Hotel Utah's Open Mike to get over my stage fright. Well my guitar was at home in New England, so I got up there with a borrowed guitar bought at Costco and said to the crowd, "This is my first time playing in public, so please be kind." To that, everyone in the bar cheered me on before I had even played a note. I played and sang and when I was done, several strangers came up to give me a pat on the back. Needless to say it was not only enough to get me over my stage fright, but also enough to convince me to move to San Francisco!
— Priscilla

03.10.03 // My name is Frank, and it was my friend, Steve's, birthday, as well as Halloween. We knew everyone at the Utah back then (1997?). Well, we were partying pretty hard, all in costumes and stuff, and this guy came in, and he was drunk as hell — we all were — but he started to strip and run around and we all laughed, and Steve started singing that song,"You'll Be A Woman Soon," the one in Pulp Fiction. Hilarious. After the bar closed, we continued the private party, and people started dancing on the bar, and Steve slipped and knocked a whole tray off pint glasses onto the floor. That was one of my favorite nights at the Utah.