BERLIN Nightclub, Chicago
OFFICIAL STATEMENT FROM BERLIN:
The party ended at 5am, November 19, 2023 – nearly forty years and more than 10,000 nights from when it all began. The final chapter will surely be written by the essayists, the journalists, and memorialized in tribute events and documentaries but the magic that happened at 954 W. Belmont will never be recreated. It couldn't be. It was a remarkable tornado of talented performers and staff, inspired friends and customers, a crazy location and a lot of dreams. The expenses of increased security, insurance and licensing, equipment, rent and more cannot be overestimated and we could not imagine morphing the bar into a bottle service, VIP area venue. So, the doors are locked. The music is silenced and our dreams are now memories. We hope you made some memories with us and that you smile when they visit you. The first ads in 1983 announced Berlin as the Neighborhood Bar of the Future. Unfortunately, the future is now and it's time for us to go home.
In the winter of 1982, at the age of 21, I found myself navigating the slushy streets of Chicago near Belmont & Clark. On one bone-chilling day, as I made my way to the El platform, the clamor of construction piqued my curiosity. Drawn by the uninvited sounds pouring onto the street, I ventured through an open door, eager to discover the source of the commotion.
Inside, an annoyed figure, masked and donning protective eyewear, turned to face me. Pulling down his mask, he inquired with a curt "What?" Undeterred by his irritation, I repeated my question, "What is going on here?" The response came, "Oh, we are building a bar." Serendipitously, I happened to be a bartender actively seeking employment.
Excitement surged within me, and I asked if I could fill out an application. "When are you opening?" I inquired. The masked man, revealed as the contractor, responded, "Sometime next year, but for staffing, you'll need to speak to Tim or Shirley; it's their place."
Armed with this information, I was resolute in my determination to secure a job at this nearby establishment.
Months passed, marked by locked doors, missed encounters with Tim and Shirley, and construction delays. Finally, Berlin opened its doors. However, my aspirations faced a setback when I discovered that the owners themselves were tending the bar and had no immediate need for another bartender.
Undeterred, I refused to let disappointment dictate my actions. Determined to be part of Berlin, I proposed an offer they couldn't refuse—I offered to work as a cocktail waitress for tips only, without an hourly wage.
It started at a legendary club called Berlin, and the story continues. Come with me as I take you along the road less traveled, where my life unfolded.