McFann's was rather nondescript in appearance. A plain green sign on a white board was how anyone driving by was going to know about the place. Its menu was of the standard American fare,and there was nothing outstanding about the beer selection either. What it did have going for it was the neighborhood: Capitol Hill. If you were a hippie or a punk,and couldn't afford to live in Boulder,you lived in Capitol Hill. Ramblin' Jack Elliott and Allen Ginsberg spent their Denver time in Capitol Hill. It seemed to attract an inordinate number of artists. In the 1980's,if you were gay,Capitol Hill was one of the safest neighborhoods to live in Denver. It was affordable if you didn't have much,but comfortable enough for those who had a little more too...and Colfax Avenue was not far away. Never know what may come out of or from Colfax. McFann's found itself set in the heart of this neighborhood,and that's probably why it thrived.
In the 80's it was more of a restaurant than bar,but as far as I was concerned, McFann's was the epitome of a modern day Wild West saloon. I always related it to something bad happening. When my wife at the time would say "Let's go to McFann's",I learned to brace myself because something was about to go down.
In the mid 90's,I found myself back in Denver,back in Capitol Hill,and back in McFann's. Now it was more of a bar,complete with pool tables,but still nothing outstanding about the beer selection,and found out soon enough that I didn't have to be married to find trouble at McFann's. One night,a Pittsburgh Steelers fan made the mistake of talking smack about the Denver Broncos there. Bet he never did that again..I saw a waitress throw a drink into a customer's face. On another evening while quietly sitting at the bar nursing a beer,I was politely informed by the bartender,that in order to avoid trouble,because there was a man on the other side of the bar who wanted to start a fight with me,that I should probably leave. The bartender paid for my beer..
I will say this about McFann's however: it was through a friend who I met there who introduced me to the 13th Avenue Bar and Grill in Denver where later I met some of my best and closest friends .
One of the last times I visited McFann's was shortly before returning to Minnesota. I ran into my former neighbor who shortly was going to return to his homeland of Australia. He and I had struck up a friendship while living in an Ogden St apartment,and both of us found ourselves as sworn enemies of the landlord for reasons that had nothing to do with paying the rent on time. One of my "crimes" there was laughing too hard with my friends. That brought the landlord to the door complete with a billy club. Guess the landlord did something similar to my Aussie friend too.
It was getting close to bar close time. We had had a few beers and and spent the evening railing against the landlord,the political system,and even McFann's,but before leaving,my friend had to do one last thing.
As the jukebox ended the night with the Counting Crows' Mr Jones,He pleaded for,and got the patrons attention.
"I love Denver and I love Capitol Hill!" he shouted in his Australian accent "and I going to miss people like my dreadlock friend here!" I began to wonder if he had been a member of the Australian Parliament the way he was speaking. He certainly was getting the call and response from the bar crowd. "But I need to tell you,we were WRONGED by a corrupt landlord!" We must do something about this!" He asked me to join him..I declined,but it seemed like he had enough of the bar following him. I walked by my old apartment the next day,and did notice boards covering up the landlord's window.
McFann's no longer exists and neither does the Capitol Hill of the day. The Wild West can now only be found on Colfax/
