Brews, brawls and banter

Chick DeJohn did not call his former watering hole, Sharkey’s Bar, "the roughest bar in South Philly" without good reason.

"It was like walking into a madhouse every night," said DeJohn, who acquired ownership of the tavern at Broad and Porter streets from his father, Louis, in 1968. Louis opened up shop in 1951.

The tavern was named after Tom Sharkey, Louis’ boxing name. Scannicchios Italian Restaurant, which opened in 2003, is now on the site.

Dubbing it a sailor bar due to its proximity to the once-bustling Philadelphia Navy Yard, DeJohn said Sharkey’s was a popular destination for members of international fleets entering Philadelphia’s ports. Word-of-mouth advertising from these overseas travelers further intensified the bar’s popularity.

"They always made a beeline for Sharkey’s when they got to Philly," he said.

Bar fights, DeJohn said, were as prevalent as on-tap beer.

"The place was set up where they couldn’t do much damage," he said. "I used to let them go at it. When they get all tired, I’d grab them by the arm and throw them out. They’d be so tired, they couldn’t resist."

The busiest – and most boisterous – crowds could be found at Sharkey’s on payday and the week thereafter.

Run-of-the-mill conversations usually erupted into unusual circumstances. DeJohn recalled one evening when a patron was bragging about owning a boa constrictor. After other customers refused to believe him, the customer went to his home and returned -with the animal inside a trashcan.

Crowded around the receptacle, the group watched in shock as the bin tipped over and the snake slithered its way onto the road.

"It was crawling across Broad Street," DeJohn said. "It took about two or three of us to pick it up because it weighed about 150 pounds."

And the craziness only stepped up during the holidays. Opening the bar at 8 a.m. on New Year’s Day, DeJohn’s staff would serve the masses that frequented the establishment before, during and after the Mummers Parade.

"It would stay crowded the entire day," he said. "I would normally have two to three bartenders on a busy night. That day we would have six to seven bartenders. It was wall-to-wall people."

Though his bar has served countless libations in its existence, DeJohn admitted he hardly ever sipped the sauce – much less took puffs from cigarettes.

In 1988, DeJohn decided to transform Sharkey’s into DiGiovanni Restaurant. The clientele, he said, went from enlisted men to decorated officers. He closed his restaurant in 1999, but still resides atop the building.

Christian Varalli, one of the owners of Scannicchios, said many of his customers continue bringing their appetites and fond memories of Sharkey’s to his place. And the resident from Eighth and Reed streets also has a few of his own.

"When I was in the Mummers Parade, I was too young to go in here, but the guys used to stop in here for a quick shot or beer," he said.

DOM PANTALEO SAID he will never forget the location where he and his cousin heard the Eagles defeat the Green Bay Packers in the 1960 championship game. It was at Charlie Mayo’s Bar, formerly at Broad and Wharton streets, where the game was broadcast on the radio. In those days, television stations would "black out" home games and later run them that night, said Pantaleo, originally of 15th and Wharton streets.

As was the case with many of the area’s neighborhood bars, these establishments always had an inviting presence.

"The atmosphere back then was nice and friendly," said the 70-year-old Center City resident. "Most of the people knew each other. They were friends."

Frequenting these taverns at least once a week from the 1940s to the 1960s, Pantaleo said bartenders did not habitually check for identification. The drinking age was the same as it is today.

"They didn’t want any little kids, but if you were 18 or 19, they didn’t ask for no age card," he said.

Pantaleo would attend Yo-Yo’s Bar, formerly at 15th and Dickinson streets, primarily for its good eats, including hard-shell crabs. The building, like most bars, had a side entrance, also referred to as the "ladies entrance."

Women "did not want to be seen walking into a bar," Pantaleo said. "For a lady in those days, to be standing outside of a bar, you sort of got a bad name."

It was typical for the former resident to fork over a quarter per beer as he filled up on food. One of the area’s highlights for drinks and grub, the South Philly Grill, 12th and Mercy streets, closed this year.

"The other bars just had [bar] food," he said. "Here, you could get macaroni of any kind and great antipasto, some of the best around. They had dishes only Italians would know, such as greens and beans."

Many of Pantaleo’s favorite bars are gone, but his recollections of them and bonds with his friends are as strong as a shot of sambuca.

"I miss the guys most of all," he said. "There was a lot of laughing. We still do that when we get together today."